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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 (235) - Mind of the Insane

    Discussion in 'Monthly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Apr 22, 2013.

    Poetry Contest
    Two Hundred and Thirty Five

    Back on schedule!

    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 29th April 2013.

    The voting stage will begin immediately and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 25th April 2013.

    And this week's theme is: (courtesy of Lance Millenium) Mind of the Insane

    The next (236th) contest's theme will be (courtesy of SwampDog): Haikus (a haiku, a series of haiku, a poem about haikus; whatever you like) and it will be opened on Monday 29th April 2013.

    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. Not the Admin

    Not the Admin New Member

    Aug 9, 2011
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    Mind your Head

    Mind your Head


    Mind your head as you leave your bed -
    That is what ------ had said,
    And there my mind was left behind,
    And that is why I’m dead.​

  3. seelifein69

    seelifein69 Active Member

    Jun 20, 2011
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    SW Florida
    To: The Invisible Inebriated Whale

    Sir, I really don’t appreciate
    All the uproars you create,
    And how you do abbreviate
    The friendly letters I dictate.

    The Baker will not understand
    Your sloppy written, soggy, shorthand.
    For you are under my command,
    When I’m asleep in Wonderland.

    Don’t blame me, you’re intoxicated!
    Far from the assistant I nominated,
    And so your rum I confiscated.
    It’s not as if this isn’t promulgated!

    So from this letter, I’d like to avoid
    This conversation feeling paranoid,
    But I feel you are more apt to destroy.
    And you are hereby unemployed…

    Sincerely signed,

    The Annoyed
  4. mbinks89

    mbinks89 Active Member

    Nov 14, 2012
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    A universe in a ruffle
    of time and space.
    Outside it: a beast.
    Looming, its size incomprehensible
    unimaginable, ineffable.

    One head is insane.
    The other is not.
    And they argue.
    Insanity jabbers,
    spittle flying from its spasming lips.
    Its eyes: wide, gleaming, bloodshot.
    Its skin: beige, dry, tight.
    Its face contorts:
    squeezes, lengthens, slackens, shrinks, tightens, wrinkles.
    Always it jabbers. Never any silence.

    The second head:
    A cynic. Jaded.
    It argues with the insane head,
    knowing that there’s no point,
    no purpose.
    Insanity doesn’t listen; it can’t understand.
    But Cynic argues anyway. It’s all it can do.
    And each day, Insanity grows more excited,
    more talkative, becomes flakier around its
    already crumbling edges.
    And Cynic grows angrier. More derisive.
    It hisses insults and then ignores the head it cannot leave.

    The two heads top a snakelike body.
    An endless ladder of ribs.
    Arms and legs.
    Two dangling penises.

    And sometimes the universe in the fold,
    the ruffle, the seam,
    catches bits of their conversation.
    How it stirs them so.
  5. Sword

    Sword Member

    Apr 23, 2012
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    Massachusetts, USA
    Helplessly Insane

    Serrated jaw,
    intelligent teeth.
    The flesh of understanding is not to eat.

    Wrong as rain,
    clear as smoke.
    Laugh at the words of sound folk.

    Sharp yet soft,
    suffocating spiral.
    Down, down, down, into denial.
  6. Michael O

    Michael O Member

    Apr 2, 2013
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    Must have Timbuktu in she said, and this is what popped right in my head.

    "The class began and what do you know,
    Little Johnny's there at the end of a row.
    Like Michael Myers this kid never dies,
    Here for eternity to make teachers cry."

    "It's poem day the teacher announced,
    And saw in his eyes he's ready to pounce.
    Must have Timbuktu in it she said,
    and this is what popped right in his head."

    "Johnny's turn came and he stood before the class
    The teacher puckered this kid's such an ass.
    He gave teach a wink and begin his diddy,
    She knew in a heartbeat it would not be pretty."

    Me and Tim a-huntin we went,
    Met three prostitutes in a big ol tent.
    Them being three and us but two,
    I bucked one and Timbuktu."

    Where's my dang prize! :)
  7. Michael O

    Michael O Member

    Apr 2, 2013
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    May I edit?
  8. Darkkin

    Darkkin Reflection of a nobody Contributor

    Jun 21, 2012
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    Following the footprints in the sand...
    Pussy Willow and Mad Fox

    Pussy Willow of Woodlawn Passing
    Told a tale that left them asking...
    Of a Fox who kept the time...
    Playing, playing with word and rhyme.

    Pussy Willow watching there from afar...
    Through the snow, beneath the stars.
    The passages, twisted as a shepherd's crook...
    Knew the path Fox took...

    Pussy Willow heard songs of the broken...
    Knew those choices, many, were merely token...
    Yet, still some seek to question the Mad Fox...
    Those who sought to fly, only to crash upon the rocks.

    Pussy Willow of Woodlawn Passing...
    What is the question these fools keep asking?
    Of the Mad Fox...
    These poor souls dashed upon the rocks.

    Pussy Willow dancing in the warm spring air.
    Mad Fox's question, stark and square...
    The bright refrain of an old, old game.
    A rhyme that has long remained the same...

    Pussy Willow marking time...
    A ghostly voice, chanting the rhyme.
    Midnight striking on the clock...
    A key snicking in a lock.

    Pussy Willow of Woodlawn Passing...
    A figment, a question asking...
    Down a labyrinth of doors and locks...
    Whirls and dashes elusive Mad Fox.
    1 person likes this.
  9. aliyawar

    aliyawar New Member

    Sep 21, 2012
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    white is black
    and black is white..
    and sometimes,
    it take myriad hues..
    when sweet nights come,
    when sun creeps up,
    the darkness rise,
    stars red,green,
    fall down with flies,
    that dance to the tune of
    old street lights..
    my pal jyo dog,
    fly to the sun,
    burn his wings..
    which melt like wax..
    folks come and go..
    i can see the..
    bloodthirst in their eyes..
    the red hot tears
    in their smiles..
    trying to steal my thoughts,
    my gems and jyo
    I see and laugh,
    and think and cry,
    while they are sleeping
    through their lives...
    I see it all..
    it's smoke and sea..
    the burning moon..
    cottonballs in the sky
    thoughts grey,blue,white
    a conscious sleep...
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