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  1. Banzai

    Banzai One-time Mod, but on the road to recovery Contributor

    Mar 31, 2007
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    Reading, UK

    Weekly Poetry Contest (171) - Loss of Self

    Discussion in 'Monthly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Nov 14, 2011.

    Poetry Contest
    One Hundred and Seventy One

    A new week comes around, and brings with it a new poetry cont

    The Rules
    • All entries must be on the set theme.
    • Only one entry per member.
    • No editing of entries once posted without my express permission (i.e. PM me and ask).
    • Poems must be titled
    • Entries must not have previously posted on the forums, and are not permitted to be posted for critique until AFTER the contest is completed.
    • Any violation of these rules will result in disqualification of entries, and possibly infraction.

    The entry stage will be open for seven days, closing on Monday 21st November 2011.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 24th November 2011.

    And this week's theme is: (courtesy of RusticOnion) Loss of Self

    The next (171st) contest's theme will be (courtesy of LX_Theo): Paradoxes, and it will be opened on Monday 14th November 2011.

    Be imaginative, have fun, and get writing.


    PS: If you have any questions, please feel free to PM me. I don't bite (much).
  2. Cacian

    Cacian Banned

    Oct 25, 2011
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    bric brac
    there goes
    yourself in loss
    feeling the faint?
    dashing or quaint?
    flauless it goes
    selfless inside
    selfish outside
    losened in bolts
    joined up no more.

    cruise up and down
    searchful to find
    a symbol fake
    something to grab
    whilst turning right
    colded and flat
    metallic slack.

    rev up those gears
    from nought to four
    fast as you can
    look out
    for twist
    it's out to quit
    those fives in flicks
    then grits and grounds
    then time is stuck!
    the move has brupt
    and steal has flungged
    courage is down
    no longer fit
    in forward back.

    selflull is it?
    loathed in glitz
    full up a brim
    grimace to grins
    selfless is best
    managed in bits
    too lost for words
    oh well it's world!

    get off your self
    wipe off the stern
    picture is blurred
    nothing to say?
    left is a turn
    straight is ahead
    cirlce is full
    sefless in speech
    selfull in fierce.

    lost on a hill?
    mountains it feels
    climbing has art
    skillful and strenght
    none of them fit
    yourself in wits!
    run down and quick
    nature can flip
    just like a cloud
    looking so sloft
    then comes the wind
    torrent is rained
    wonder no more
    give up your oars
    sea waves are force
    weakness is washed
    shorefull of bliss.
  3. One1Winged1Angel

    One1Winged1Angel New Member

    Nov 9, 2011
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    The Loser
    Cactus colored bed sheets
    much softer than your own
    halfhearted diary entries
    from the life you loaned

    Their minuscular wingspans
    saying they found your body
    somewhere in the wasteland
    in a barrel with burning money.

    Silver screen prophets
    know the location of your brain
    you probably just forgot it
    on the airplane seat in Spain

    Very doubtful sources
    glimpsed your flickering soul
    running with wild horses
    with no clear goals

    A long lost ex-lover
    saw your running heart
    hiding under her green covers
    camouflaged in the dark
    1 person likes this.
  4. RusticOnion

    RusticOnion New Member

    Nov 3, 2011
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    Estoy Viejo (To be/I am Old)

    The days of joy and boundless glee,
    flee into the haze, retreating from me.
    Grief-filled nostalgia laced with woe;
    reclamation is serendipity.

    As man casts away all his youth,
    like dead-weight on the Styx, he wants to row.
    Jaded by cynicism he can’t sleuth;
    greeting his end, like an old foe.

    Atop our thrones, beards weaved of time,
    eyes rimmed with glass, faces carved out of lime
    gold hair, all topped off with a bow.
    This mockery of wisdom masks our crime!

    To lose one’s values, dreams, beliefs;
    self-adaptation to the old motifs,
    society cannot fore-go.
    Leave, relate to peers for social reliefs.

    Thus preparing the corrupted fields, for
    the next generation to sow.
  5. architectus

    architectus Banned

    Aug 19, 2008
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    Tries To Hold On
    Every night he thinks about killing Jill.
    Wonders if she will beg for help or shrill.
    Wonders if she will die fast or strive long.
    Understands that such thoughts must be wrong.

    At work, Jill pops in his head.
    Thinking of her being dead.
    Thinking of her on his bed.
    How the sheets would be stained red.

    Thoughts come more often but are not sin.
    Trying to hold back desire for her skin.
    Trying to stay at her door as she does sleep.
    But can't stay his knife that must plunge deep.
  6. Waltznmatildah

    Waltznmatildah New Member

    Nov 13, 2011
    Likes Received:
    British Columbia
    Behind a Facade of my Own Devising

    There are so many days
    Heaped haphazardly
    So that one runs into the next.
    Through a haze
    In a daze
    I’m touching this intangible thing
    Named time-
    As if life is measurable.
    Forever is taking over
    And I'm slipping down,
    Beyond my grasp.
    My eyes have become mirrors-
    Who can see past polished glass?
    I am a rock
    I am smoke
    Dual natured.
    You’ll see me over the sink
    Hovering at the edges,
    Prying with bloody fingers
    Hammering to be let in.
    1 person likes this.
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