Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)
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First, I will post the overall rules, and then I will post the specifics about this week.
Original rules, as stated by Ubertuna:
It must fit the week's theme.
It must be submitted by the deadline.
It cannot have inappropriate language in it.
It cannot be stolen (if you plagiarize, we will find you).
Also:
The poem must be created for this contest
A user cannot win two weeks in a row (though everyone is welcome to submit every week!)
Only one submission per user will be accepted
As we all know, the winner will recieve a merit, and their poem will be featured on the _Poetry_ page.
OK, on to this week's topic...Again, we are having a style instead of a theme. Also, this week we are having TWO WEEKS to do it, instead of the usual one. Why? Because this will be an EPIC poem. Or, rather, a parody of an epic poem. Generally, epic poetry is very long, and tells the serious story of a heroic figure. Well, this week, the epic figure is YOU! Write a long poem (I'll leave the definition of 'long' up to you, but give it a good go) about the heroic story of you! It can be silly, serious, whatever... just have fun with it. You have two weeks, so have a great time!
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Judging coming soon. I'm finally out of school and done with finals, relatives, etc. I'll probably be able to get the judging in before my nasal CT on Monday - if not, I'll do the judging Monday night.
BOOM
The shell hits nearby
BOOM
Dirt is sprayed, into the sky.
BOOM
I peek over the mound of soil
BOOM
A bullet pierces my chest.
BOOM
I feel the torrent of blood
boom
The noise go's away, as i fade into death...
never been good at poetry... lol
idk wat other trenches there are....?
lolz @ trumpetfury. That is what my poem was about really. I had no clue what other types of trenches there were.
Finally getting judging done! Anyway, I'm just doing the top three this time, sorry.
3rd place, with a short and depresso oem . . . Graham!
Here is my flow.
My long-nosed pen.
Creating sublimity; Painting new faces.
Empyreumatic odors never smelled so sweet.
As I finish my masterpiece,
My heart is broken.
I fall backwards unseeing my art.
Drowning in the blood of my friend.
I like the feel of this poem - the melancholia is nice. The almost baroqueness to the vocabulary gave it a good flavor. I do keep reading the 3rd line in stanza 2 with a comma between 'backwards' and 'unseeing' in it though . . . so that I would recommend. But really, good job.
2nd place, her usual cute happinesss coming through in a different manner . . . Teeheegirl!
If I were to Die
If I got shot by a gun,
Skeleton legs to weak to run
Shant it take very long
A force through my heart so strong
The merciless one note song
Poisoned through clouds of gas
Lives shattered as though panes of glass
One breath's all it takes
Your lungs, it bakes
And your soul, death then takes
Maybe I'll get blown by a grenade
They'll say "What an explosion it made!"
"In the air it flied...
His trench it landed beside...
And was filled with smoke inside."
In the cold I could tire,
Then freeze with no fire
'Cause deep in the night
There are snipers out of sight
Guns locked onto light
Even thinking of these ways
My fear does not stay
'Cause even if I die,
My final act goodbye,
Would be a peaceful sigh.
This is interesting in that it creates a almost storybook mystique about trench warfare, which is an interesting contrast. The flow of the poem is thrown a bit every now and then(I'd say the third line of the first stanza is just a liiitle short)but all-in-all, the poem is well put-together and has an off-the-wall ring to it which I appreciate.
And first place, coming out of the blue with a rfhythmic spell, we haaaave . . . whimsyboy!
Trench Parade
Running,
Through the muck and the myre,
Tripping
On the bodies and wire.
Falling,
Off blood-slippery cliffs,
You scream and you dodge
Those crippling hits.
Finding
Your friend's gory limbs,
Praying
And singing your hymns
Hiding,
Under corpse's shade,
While they run in the
Trench Parade.
Looking
At the gray dreary cloud.
Thinking
You're breathing just too loud.
Screaming,
As they find you there,
Stabbing, Shooting,
Your skin they tear.
Dragging,
Back through muck and myre,
Moaning,
You're chained to the tires.
Dieing,
Blood streams down your neck,
No going home,
No rain check.
This is a very good, very intense poem. I can visualise it as a death metal song to a point. The rhythm of this poem is precise, being consistently off-kilter to add to the sense of uncertainty projected throughout. All through the poem, the rhythm doesn't mess up at all, and that combined with the good rhyming and the tension of the poem makes it a winner. Go get your merit.
A'ight, new theme, new deadline!
Theme: Mountains
deadline: friday, June 19(or something like that >_> 2010
Mountains
I,
Am a hiker.
I climb souls
The mountains of these people
Peek, deep, fake,
Dead?
The top of their soul
Secrets, feelings, emotions?
Traps.
Traps it is what I call them.
Traps they are,
Stuck inside an emotion.
A pit.
Ahh.
I have reached the top.
After a struggle,
With the mountain?
With myself.
Where the sky reaches the land
Higher and higher
Touch God's hand
An overwhelming desire
To reach the peak
At peace with the life
No more answers to seek
No more strife
For me
Just live
And be free.
Fun stuff poetry. I like this theme. Had fun writing this.
Where the ground reaches up
straining to breath under the harsh snow
Where the dirt, and soil
gently touch the air
Where there is nothing between them but pure calmness
Mountains high
and mountains low
no matter where they are
I will always find them
we cannot survive on them
yet we cannot survive without them
white-tipped
elegant and beautiful
the white snow reflects the clouds
the people on the ground stare at them in amazement
calm and serene
people challenge themselves to conquer these sculptures of nature
a perfect triangle
mountains
Amid all this wonder
I am but the lonely traveller.
A walker of twisting paths that lead ever on.
Past the roof of the world
Where there are no clouds
To hide me from the eyes of the sun.
Where the wind bites me,
And strips me to the barest parts of me.
Where snow ever gleams
Like pure diamonds.
And far off you can here the silence.
You can here the silence
And it is here that I climb,
To escpae.
Here, to the roof of the world.
Mountains are silent sentinels,
Guarding the land, watching it,
They are conquered only by time,
Their heads are held high,
Beyond the clouds where the angels play,
Their lofty peaks are covered in snow,
They are both beautiful and wonderful,
Those who attempt to climb them often die,
They can be bombs ready to go off,
Filled with magma that yearns to become lava,
Their tops explode and ash is sent into the air,
The lava destroys old life,
Only to allow new life to take over.
First try at just a regular poem. Don't hate. =P
Execution of nature,
Destruction of Earth,
Diabolical rupture,
Gives mountains birth.
Ending of the world,
Soon to have the world fall apart,
The crust swirled,
Creation of Earth's heart.
Masterful creation,
Life of deathly sorrow,
Flat lands damnation,
Worldly difference on the morrow.
Millions of years in a day,
Creates the monolithic structure,
Even mountains shall not stay,
Death of infrastructure.
Lively creation,
Birth of life,
Inspire admiration,
Killing strife.
Not great, but I tried.
A short Haiku.
Mountains, rocky chins,
The air is very thin there.
With fields of daisys.
Okay, yeah, that was bad, but it's my first one.
A Poem I wrote in Eight grade
That's a no no! For one thing, you should of put 'Eighth' and you must of not read all of the rules...
The poem must be created for this contest
Shame shame.
Thread is locked!