Poetry Running Contest - Submission Thread

  • #203
    Man of Steel
    ____For Ted Sim.

    When I think of the scene
    of when Clark Kent saves a bus
    full of children sinking in a river,
    I don’t think of Superman

    but the example I hear
    often in Kant, of a child
    drowning in a pond. It showed
    we are beings of moral worth,

    unconditional and incomparable,
    because we can choose
    to save or let the poor child
    die. And when I think of that,

    I remember the time
    when the water dragged me
    deep into the pool, and my body
    could not raise itself. I could see

    the light through the blue,
    my feet dangle, arms flailing
    over nothing. My bones
    must have been made of metal

    for me to descend so low;
    my lungs made of iron,
    while my mouth opened wide,
    and drank the sea.

    I was a man of steel.
    I could not fly in this world,
    but you did, when you lifted me,
    let me leaned on your shoulder

    without effort, as if you’ve held
    burning planes before, and I
    was just a falling bird. If at all,
    I sank. If anything, you were worthy.
    Last edited by Ilvaldi: 12/31/2012 2:34:55 PM
  • #204
    Goldfish

    Meandering to my aquarium walls
    I goggle at the world outside
    Chewing vacantly
    Wondering what it's like out there
    Swishing through the plants
    Wandering to the filter outlet
    For a breath of filtered air
    Rooting along the floor
    Sucking up anything that may have fallen
    Alone in my bowl
    When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Raoul Duke
  • #205
    Submissions for PRC Round 190 are now closed, thank you; good luck; and I hope to see you all again for PRC 191!


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #206
    poison

    all i deserve is poison and death
    breath coloured purple with vomit and sex
    that day at school when a classmate told me i was weird
    and i said you were wrong and burst into tears
    and ran

    i should have listened
    i should have been sicker

    rattling coughs and stopped noses
    spitting up my mind's blood and phlegm
    all i do is cough from something that isn't there
    all i do is feel like death
    all i want is to know

    that which will kill me


    this part was clever but doesn't fit:

    look around we have our distant life before us
    bloom to nothing and then we die
    we are tumors and cancers and blue pills
    we breathe poison and we excrete lies

    look around we're ruining everything before us
    look around we're killing truth with lies
    the truth is nothing when facts are worthless
    we create ourselves with discrete lies
    Last edited by echoe: 1/5/2013 11:51:51 AM
    will you ever preserve, will you ever exhume? ... will you watch petals shed from flowers in bloom?
    nothing can live up to promise - nothing can stop its narrative - nothing in place of catalysts
    and you’ll never be pure again
  • #207
    A Lonely Pine

    I would like to live,
    In endless solitude,
    For when my heart stops beating,
    My lungs stop breathing,
    I will know no difference
    Between life and death.
    And when my time passes,
    Bury me between
    A lonely pine,
    So that it will resemble
    My existence.
    Memories will linger,
    Of a cheerful time,
    But so distant are those,
    Out of focus, blurred.

    And when a passerby,
    May stop and look
    At the lonely pine,
    He will shed no tear,
    Will not cry,
    But still feel a presence
    Of one he never knew.
    Official Teenage Dirtbag of The Called

    My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
  • #208
    The Cold of a Winter's Night

    He kissed her with lips that were as dry as his love for her
    As they walked and talked in the cold of a winter's night.
    The feelings were gone but the smiles remained, for too long.
    They laughed at themselves and what they did wrong
    And poked at each other's separating ways and lives.
    They stopped at a bench in the cold of a winter's night
    And he called her a selfish, bitter bitch. The kind that rips out
    Your heart and leaves it there to wallow in the very blood it pumps.
    And she called him a wimp who could not speak up to a woman,
    Nonetheless, for himself. And despite the jabs they took,
    The hooks they threw, and the stab wounds that left them bleeding
    In the cold of a winter's night, they couldn't help but laugh
    At what they did wrong, at the smiles that lasted for too long,
    Because they both knew that they were too young and dumb
    To try to love the way they tried to love each other.
    YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT.
  • #209
    Cerberus

    I never knew your name,
    but I would have guessed
    it was the same as the dog
    who fished you from the river
    when you were three. I’d imagine,
    to this day, he still waits for you
    at the gates, not much to do, nipping
    the asphodels from the ash. I wonder
    sometimes, on those hours
    when the vacancy is at its all time high,
    does he sleep? Does he dream? Does he try
    to remember the days when hell
    was just a small hole in the ground?
    I want to know what is the world
    on his shoulder? How does fire
    spill from his mouth? Are the flames bile?
    Is the bile blood? And is this all, some way,
    a form of grief? I have never died,
    so I could not know. But if I did,
    I would breathe fire for you
    and speak of smoke all the same,
    even though, my name is Ocean.
  • #210
    I love you like the burning
    of a world gone mad loves
    the ashes of the pyramids and
    the husks of the collossus and
    when I dream I dream of
    my blue haired psychopath god
    laying with me in the rubble
    of the great wall-

    I love you like the dying of
    the brightest star; like a black
    hole loves the light and brings
    it near from afar and when
    I scream I scream in rage,
    rage, rage, RAGE against
    the fear of the dying of the last
    blue dawn on a horizon that's cast
    against a backdrop of man on machine
    suicide love notes etched into the
    ashes of the pyramids and when
    I DREAM-

    I dream of my blue haired psy-
    chopath god and the breaking
    down of all the walls and all the
    towers and I dream of my collossus
    and I rage at a husk and I would
    burn down the world
    to give you the ashes


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #211
    Submissions for PRC Round 191 are now closed, good luck, and I hope to see you all again for Round 192!


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #212
    Modded in the Face.

    Ouch.
    I made a joke..
    One that didn't set well with a certain bloke.
    I was banned for a week, but now set free!
    Oh, how 7-day suspension killed me.
    Not able to write poetry, not able to vote.
    Not even able to discuss the mass spoilers afloat!
    It's nice to be back, I suppose.
    Although my poetry sucks, it's more fun than typical prose.
    Sig made by the awesome Rivenor!
  • #213
    The Fence in Heaven
    Remember when we fell for each other way back in school?
    When things were so easy, when we'd play it cool,
    When we'd meet at the corner of Oak and Chase,
    When I'd run for miles in the rain just to see your pretty face.
    And remember when I wiped the tears that you cried?
    When you felt so alone when your daddy died,
    And remember our talks and our fights and our dances,
    The risks that we took when we did not know the chances
    Or consequences of our silly actions and love
    Because we left everything to fate and the stars above.
    And remember that fence I mentioned to you?
    In Ms. Drum's class, remember the picture I drew?
    The one of a white picket fence in a field
    That our two different religions used as a shield
    To bar lovers like us from loving after our death
    So we wouldn't again taste the other's sweet breath,
    But I promised that I'd be waiting for you
    At that fence up in heaven, I promised, it's true.
    Because I do not believe in "'Til death do us part"
    There's nothing divine that would keep us apart.
    And I'd tear down the fence just to hold your hand
    And I'd let heaven above know where I'd stand
    Its with you my darling, with you my love,
    That's all we need, all we need is our love.
    Last edited by SpikeSpiegel: 1/13/2013 5:11:54 PM
    YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT.
  • #214
    Quote from iCwalzy
    Although my poetry sucks, it's more fun than typical prose.


    No Fun Allowed

    Fun, prose, there should be no distinction
    poesy is the deciphering of the waters of life
    as they flow past rock, tree, hill,
    at every obstacle it splashes
    and moves on
    in celebration

    Celebrate, have fun, be free
    revel in your life and in your poetical discourse;
    old men in suits: the proper 'academia'
    would leech the life from art
    literary vampires
    sustaining intellectual dictatorship
  • #215
    Alone In An Empty House At 9PM When It's Forty Below Out

    The train blares mournfully in the darkness
    As cold reaches in from the windows
    The furnace howls
    Trying to warm the iciness within
    Touching the glass; arctic sparks
    My face, and the emptiness behind
    Reflected in nothingness
    When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Raoul Duke
  • #216
    emo

    being emotional's such a big deal
    crying and dying and whining and screaming
    and bleeding inside, or being dramatic
    to die - an expression! -
    to say "it's so tragic"

    i'd die if i could guarantee
    the end of my own misery,
    but that's not what being emo seems to be

    what whiners!
    complain endlessly
    of things that others clam up about until those others jump off bridges and let everyone see what they feel without talking
    with passive-aggressive
    gestures




    so i vent in endless contortions
    yell my thoughts from metaphorical roofs
    or fears from the edge
    it's so messy, so uncouth
    but it's not like i can stop feeling (is it? wish it?)
    so what would you have us do?

    i don't "identify" as emo or hipster
    but to question yourself and yell at the top of your lungs
    to listen to fiona apple say that the pain comes in like a second skeleton
    is to hear yourself at times and
    my heart's
    so full
    of parts
    it's bursting at the seams
    and my hopes and dreams impossible -
    my fears immense, plans pointless
    to say nothing of the sex

    we are so small and useless
    nothing to be done
    when fate (that doesn't exist)
    "thinks it's going to have some fun"
    and that trap of rhyming nonsense
    that catch of yelling anything
    that comes into my mouth
    as long as it sounds good
    as long as it tastes good
    i don't care

    and i care so very much that i'll do anything to not


    that feeling when something is rising up from deep within you and all you can do is scream, it's not tangible, just a small nugget of knowledge that you will never be satisfied in this world
    Last edited by echoe: 1/14/2013 3:39:57 PM
    will you ever preserve, will you ever exhume? ... will you watch petals shed from flowers in bloom?
    nothing can live up to promise - nothing can stop its narrative - nothing in place of catalysts
    and you’ll never be pure again
  • #217
    Sometimes I Dream

    Sometimes I dream
    Of a different reality
    But then I wake,
    Into the true cold reality
    Of me being alone
    In my bed
    Blocking out the voices in my head
    Telling me to write a note,
    To make a jump,
    In to the next step
    Of the circle of life
    Official Teenage Dirtbag of The Called

    My Mafia Stats - My Helpdesk
  • #218
  • #219
    Submissions for PRC 192 are now closed, good luck, and be sure to join us again for the next round!


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #220
    Tuesday Weld, And Me

    I'll take Sweden
    And Tuesday in the rain
    Wild in the country
    Play it as it lays
    Pretty poison
    In a safe place












    -
    When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Raoul Duke
  • #221
    dripping pipes
    in the rain
    seeping through the rusted metal
    i held the pipe and cried against it
    my tears mixed with the iron and became hard

    hands cut and stinging
    the hard brick of the alley behind me
    a downpour
    will you ever preserve, will you ever exhume? ... will you watch petals shed from flowers in bloom?
    nothing can live up to promise - nothing can stop its narrative - nothing in place of catalysts
    and you’ll never be pure again
  • #222
    Postcards From Cassidy

    I once met a girl with a smile so bright
    It shone like a lighthouse in the night,
    And when she laughed my heart would skip a beat.
    So we talked and talked of silly things,
    Like how I danced and the way she sings
    In a voice so off key, it hardly sounded neat.
    One evening we went off into the dark
    And found an old oak tree to carve our mark
    As lovers in our youth that were meant to be.
    All summer long we would both sing and dance
    And love each other like lovers in a trance.
    Come summer's end, I got down on one knee.

    That's when I said, "My dear sweet Cassidy,
    In my heart I know you're the one for me.
    Now darling, will you take this shiny ring?"
    And as her hair blew in the summer breeze
    Her eyes tear'd up and she said, "Darling, please,
    It pains me to tell you of such a thing,
    And I hope someday you will understand
    That you truly are a sincere man,
    But something says you're not the one for me."
    So I said, "Sweet Cassidy, what do you mean?
    After all of the things we've done and seen,
    Are you saying that we're not meant to be?"

    And she said, "Yes, that is what I mean,
    Nick, I have to admit and come out clean
    And tell you why I cannot accept this ring.
    You see, darling, I truly love you so
    But I must leave you here, I want to go
    See the world, from London to Beijing.
    And somewhere out there there will be a man
    As curious as I am, who will take my hand
    And travel 'round this entire world with me."
    So I said, "Darling, I can be that man
    Who'll travel 'round this world and take your hand
    And as lovers, we would see things differently."

    Then I saw teardrops falling from her eyes
    As she said "Nick, I truly would despise
    To see a world only as lovers see,
    Because the world is such a pretty thing,
    And it wouldn't be as pretty with this ring.
    I want to see this world naturally.
    As a soul not bound by the bonds of love,
    So when I look up to those stars above
    I'll know that I am me, and that I'm free."

    She turned her back and walked away from me
    While I was still down on one knee,
    That's when I realized, when I began to see
    That she loves life so much more than me
    That this was how it is meant to be.
    And as she left I said, "Goodbye, Cassidy,

    "Send postcards, pictures of where you'll be
    So I can see the places you will see
    It'll be like we're there together, you and me,"
    But she said, "No, that's not how it will be.
    You've got your own life to live and world to see
    Because you and I will see things differently."

    So then ten years had gone by and passed
    Since the summer I had seen Cassidy last,
    And my wife had brought to me the day's mail.
    To my surprise I found a postcard for me
    On it was a picture of a crystal sea,
    And there stood Cassidy, on a boat and sail.
    I saw her happy face and that bright smile,
    And all the card said was, "It's been awhile,"
    And "I hope that life has treated you well."
    Then I couldn't help but reminisce and sigh
    And, as if speaking to Cassidy, my reply
    Was "Life, indeed, has treated me well."
    Last edited by SpikeSpiegel: 1/20/2013 4:36:05 AM
    YOU'RE GONNA CARRY THAT WEIGHT.
  • #223
    A pig's skin through uprights.
    Such a simple thing; such a
    Simple flick of god's finger
    Such a little coin toss
    Of all anguish and all joy
    And all hope and all burn-
    ing or infinite rage-

    Such a little thing-
    The Trajectory of Dreams.

    The Flight Path of Redemption

    And how!
    And how can six seconds-
    The last two of them, even-
    Re-enact the falling of the
    Tower of Babel? The burn-
    ing of Rome? How can every
    Great tragedy of man; how can
    Every tear and wound and
    sin be made reproduced by
    sixty minutes on a hundred
    yards of over priced
    Grass?

    Such a little thing.
    A change in numbers.

    Such a little thing.
    Just a trophy.

    Such a little thing;
    The breath of a city, held in
    Anticipation for the choice of
    Mother Nature herself; the
    Very Judgement of the winds-
    A ten mile an hour hurricane
    to bat away the ages and hallow
    or undo the monuments of
    Eleven mousy men.

    Such a little thing.
    The Trajectory of Hope.
    The Flight Path of Tragedy.
    The Rise and Fall of one Ball-
    One ball-
    One course for the rest of our lives.

    It's like they say:
    It's just a game.


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #224
    Submissions for PRC Round 193 are now closed, good luck, and I hope to see you all again next time!


    Join the Poetry Running Contest!

    Quote from BlippyTheSlug
    Poetry is the tampon for my mental menstruation.
  • #225
    Breakfast In Bed

    Soft buzzing sounds
    Much too dainty to be called snores
    With a smile on your sleeping lips
    My seed oozing out from inside you
    Heavenly aromas waft
    As I stand watching you sleep
    Limbs akimbo, a knee peeps out
    From under rumpled sheets
    Such a shapely knee
    It stirs the hunter within me
    To eat what I shoot
    Last edited by BlippyTheSlug: 1/30/2013 4:30:27 PM
    When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Raoul Duke
  • #226
    logic

    death lurks quiet in the background of everything
    brittle old bones and disfigured meandering
    (purposefully misinterpreting meanings)

    i dreamt i was myself under pale skies
    with two others holding hands beside(s) me
    i wanted, i watched - above all i abided
    and suns set forever blissfully

    rest my pale head under indigo waves,
    be one person in pride and another in shame.
    a freezing of thought like the enlightenment;
    enlightened minds make suicidal bliss ...

    in dreams, i pretend to be everyone else
    let my brain run wild - what a terrible master
    i defy logic but i shattered the self

    let the scalpel cut deep and the scars last forever
    let the plastic run hot and the burns spread like wildfire
    it's not logic, but it feels like the cusp
    of an answer to something

    logical enough.
    Last edited by echoe: 1/27/2013 10:10:29 PM
    will you ever preserve, will you ever exhume? ... will you watch petals shed from flowers in bloom?
    nothing can live up to promise - nothing can stop its narrative - nothing in place of catalysts
    and you’ll never be pure again
  • #227
    ~ The Untouchable ~
    Floating along the gentle stream, the lily glides and dances around the whorls and rocks, moving ever forward, she is untouchable. She flies continually, never giving heed to the world around her. The branches reach out to hold her, and the frogs seek her refuge of peace for a time, but still she moves on, untouchable. through mires, over snakes that beg her to stay, the lily is floating ever on, rain can't sink her, and wind can't stop her, but with her momentum taking hold, danger looms. She reaches for branches and begs for the frogs and snakes to slow her decent, but they are far behind her now. She slips ever forward and swiftly dances over the waterfall, and dances again but through the air, ever faster now and she is untouchable.



    I'm new to the thread, I'm not really sure how to make this more aesthetically pleasing, but hopefully this works Smile
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