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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 (215) - The End

    Discussion in 'Monthly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Nov 19, 2012.

    Poetry Contest
    Two Hundred and Fifteen

    Sometimes I think about how long these contests have been running, and I feel pretty damn impressed.

    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 26th November 2012.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 29th November 2012.

    And this week's theme is: (courtesy of Sackninja) The End

    The next (216th) contest's theme will be (courtesy of LX_Theo): The Inevitable, and it will be opened on Monday 26th November 2012.

    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. Selbbin

    Selbbin I hate you Contributor

    Oct 16, 2012
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    We Embrace

    We embrace.
    I embrace.

    Her vanilla smell I once savoured
    Turns to vapours I can hardly breathe,
    But I hold on to her like she just saved my life-
    Like she just saved the world.

    Concentrating hard on everything just past her head;
    Soaking in every detail,
    Except for her
    And the way she is so:
    And beautiful,
    Like she must have been the night she fucked...
    It doesn’t matter who;
    And it doesn’t hurt to think about.
    But either way,
    I remember.

    Her mother in the car,
    The sparkling braces
    And dirty old sneakers,
    And the sign of the station
    So far from home,
    Reminds me of everything between us.
    I can feel her bottled up.
    I could pour her out
    But I’m trying to avoid a scene here.
    "How are you?"
    "Yeah. I’m ok."
    It doesn’t matter which of us said what.

    She pulls us apart
    Just far enough for me to see
    She wants to go.
    I let the moment pass us
    And say my final good bye,
    With a kiss
    On her cheek.
    She lets me,
    But with a silence that says...

    She climbs back in the car with her mother.
    I get back on the train.
  3. Michael Collins

    Michael Collins Senior Member

    Nov 9, 2012
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    Rome, Italy.
    Ashes (Haiku).


    One last word, my dear friend!
    Bitter thundering waves
    torment the lonely shore.
  4. Sackninja

    Sackninja Member

    Oct 2, 2010
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    Burning sky

    I called them all fools,
    And now look at me,
    I just lay there,
    I couldn't get up.

    I closed my eyes,
    The image of the burning sky,
    Stuck in my head,
    Then I woke up.
  5. Darkkin

    Darkkin Reflection of a nobody Contributor

    Jun 21, 2012
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    Following the footprints in the sand...
    Night Wind

    Said the Night Wind...

    Calling from far, a sound so sweet,
    So clear...

    With the fading light, a sea of leaves...
    The fading tears of the frail year...

    Small feet crunching, eyes alight...
    Knowing a special time is near...

    A hope, small and bright...
    A wish so tender, so dear...

    A magic found only in the dim shadows...
    Here at the end of the year.
  6. John Jackson

    John Jackson New Member

    Jun 21, 2012
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    No hope

    You’re so frustrated trying to find your worry free haven
    The farther you go the more you realize it’s further away
    In the end you choke on your own ambition to get there
    You find yourself on a pathway desperate for your destination.

    And to the park where I reek my desperation,
    I find you callously floating away
    Why must you leave -- My quite worry free Haven
    You and my destination where the same
  7. Timewalker

    Timewalker Member

    Oct 8, 2012
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    What Is Created Must Be Destroyed

    A rose fades away in my sight,
    The sun burrows itself in sheer fright.
    I cannot debate that this is not right,
    This time I do not see the light.

    The moon falls itself to total frost,
    All is lost;
    None may survive, at any cost!
    Why did I have to make myself a host?

    Years before, there was a god who had a chance,
    To make everything correct.
    But all he did was infect.
    Thus, in his rage,
    He did a wrong.
    This will be the wise tales of a sage.

    But to preach like a saint,
    You must live.
    And the end of everything's lifetime
    Is right now.
  8. Sword

    Sword Member

    Apr 23, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Massachusetts, USA

    Pale skin,
    equipped with bloody teeth.

    I feel horror creep down my nerves,
    whispers echo 'round the abysmal chamber.

    A werewolf removes his shirt,
    adolescent shrieks ring throughout my mind.

    One-Hundred and Sixteen minutes,
    everlasting torture as far as I'm concerned.

    My mind begins to drift,
    I fall into a deep popcorn induced slumber.

    The lights brighten,
    awakening my unfortunate soul from it's deep sleep.

    My better half taps my shoulder,
    like a bear woken from hibernation I bolt.

    I stumble down the stairs,
    the long awaited credits roll.

    A quadrilogies worth of time and money,
    I need to find a place with less expensive naps.
  9. peachalulu

    peachalulu Member Reviewer Contributor

    May 20, 2012
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    occasionally Oz , mainly Canada
    The End
    Eagerly awaiting,
    Nothing but
  10. RHK

    RHK Member

    Nov 17, 2012
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    When is The End?

    When the sky is o'so bright
    that day becomes as blind as night;
    When the sea boils in a puddle
    in a desert filled with ash and rubble;
    When the dogs have all but turned
    and to the wild have returned;
    When giant carnivorous blooms
    with their roots dig vast catacombs,

    Will that be The End?

    When bees drop dead among the flowers
    and birds fall from the sky in showers,

    Will that be The End?

    For even when our world is upon the rack
    stretched until its poised to snap,
    Who can say what may yet spring back?

    And when the miasma veils thickly
    the poor, the weak, the frail, the sickly;
    When the strong have flood the sewer
    in search of a modicum of cure;
    When whole cities stand empty
    though apartments there are plenty;
    When books are used to kindle fire
    and words inspire dread and ire,

    Will that be The End?

    When Nations there are none
    and Civilisation's end has come,

    Will that be The End?

    For even if the world is devoid of human laughter
    or the universe itself is torn asunder,
    Who can really say what may follow after?
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