Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)

Should be interesting. I think I've got something pretty good in the works. Might take me a bit though.

Who needs a merit? What are you going to do with one?

201 I got mine 6 or 7 months after I wrote that.
So expect to wait that lon at least.
We need more mods to be looking for them.

Well, Mods are not necessarily to blame, it's quite a job to roam a site this huge while applying proper mod powers, also known as downright ''modness''...No seriously, it's quite a load of responsibilities, I'm sure they do all they can...
I got my first 4 merits out of game comments so even if you don't have a merit here, there're plenty of opportunities out there; you just have to be constructive ^^.

my first 4 merits

I'm the only person in the top ten without one and it makes me look like a spammer :P but they aren't exactly as easy to get as they were before I joined.

I've won 6 of my 7 merits from contests. I got one from a review for an unknown game, buried by years of comments . . . .

Merits are easier to get now, if anything, because there are more mods to look for them.

Also, I'm glad everyone is happy with the new theme. I try to make them open but a bit offbeat.

I got a merit. For the Stealth poem.
But I don't like that I get honorable mention. I guess it is better than having nothing said about it. But then again, it just points out "it wasn't good enough"

Shock. Lets seeeeeeeeeeeee.





Sitting still,
Time means nothing,
Everything around,
Moving slowly.

Don't understand.
What just happened,
Or how it came to be.
All there was,
Was a little kid
Running through street.

Hearing sirens,
Rush around me,
Can't feel my feet on the ground.
Suddenly,
Everything is back to normal,
and I make the mistake of looking around.

Lifted next to another gurney,
With a little boy strapped up tight.
His head was bleeding freely,
He was looking into a light.

He then looked over at me,
And I gave him a painful smile.
He wasn't even 7 years old,
What a poor little child.

He gazed up to the light again,
A smile broke across his face.
He then drifted to the sky,
To a better place.

I couldn't seem to grasp,
That it is I that caused his death.
I didn't realize that I was responsible,
For making him breath his last breath.




Let us HOPE that this is not outdone by the others. Mkay. Cause I actually like this one.

I got a merit. For the Stealth poem.
But I don't like that I get honorable mention. I guess it is better than having nothing said about it. But then again, it just points out "it wasn't good enough"

"What will happen if
I put my finger in that
Electrical outl--"

The neighbors converse
Among eachother; they ask
"Where did the lights go?"

Atop a black mane
sits an ivory tower
jutting out roughly
showing it's power

The tuft of cream
against the darkness behind
conjures an image
of rebellion to mind

A streak of brilliance
across the pitch
seen as unsightly
begins to itch

Effort despite,
the eccentric pyre
becomes an anomaly
a signal fire

Ashen fibre
shows noncompliance
individuality
a constant annoyance

Chemical warfare
tries to defy
the bleached variance
has a reply

Amongst the raven,
pallid seizing
lies the stripe
teasing, teasing


--------------------------------
As always, criticism and remarks are welcome. Please be constructive.

Gosh everyone, dont worry about merits...they aren't that important...

Hmm...shock...

The cold hard floor of my stomach,
rushes up to meet my heart.
My feet adhere to the ground,
From this place I cannot part.

Silence runs through my veins,
Pumping loudly in my ears.
Not expected nor percieved,
I now had to face my fears.

Like a wraith my pains screams,
Each part tearing me from life.
I feel nothing around me,
But my hand on this slick knife.

A light cuts through my hurt,
and it seems to disappear.
I feel released from chains,
Knowing my end is near.

I let out a cry of utter disgust,
Realising what has passed.
My body collapses in a heap,
I'm done; no more shall I last.

I have seen the place before.
I Thought I Knew[b]

I have been here before,
But I cannot say how,
Out of all the ways and whys,
I have managed to arrive at the place
With you of all people.
Because, like this place,
I know you by face. How strange that I
Cannot recall you name, though
I may recall a thousand different things:
That we have done,
That we have said,
That we have thought.

How strange that in all the strangeness
Of our world, we do not question this happenstance.
It as if we were floating among
Limbo of one form or the other.
And still...
After all this wondering and pondering,
After the meals and hours
The cups of tea and afternoon showers
I cannot remmeber not one iota
Not a thought or thread
Of how this came to be.
This place where the strange is not so strange
And your face is memorable, but your name
I lack your name...
How most wonderously strange.

The years have passed in this place,
This place where we do not age.
This place most wonderously strange.
And after all this time
I remmeber the face,
Yet never the name...
The name, what is your name? Not even you will tell.
But wait! Ah I have it
The name!

But I awake.
Panting as if hunted.
In a place I know, but do not wish to know.
My eyes flick.
Wall to wall
Face to face.
I know, I know this place.
And still my heart pounds.
Those years
We naught but a dream.

**Author's note: Please feel free to critique. Also, I hope I've done this well enough for you to understand the shock that the speaker has under gone. I might edit this, but I want feed back first.**

Things I Thought I Knew

I have seen this place before.
I have been here before,
But I cannot say how,
Out of all the ways and whys,
I have managed to arrive at the place
With you of all people.
Because, like this place,
I know you by face. How strange that I
Cannot recall you name, though
I may recall a thousand different things;
That we have done,
That we have said,
That we have thought.
How strange that in all the strangeness
Of our world, we do not question this happenstance.
It as if we were floating among
Limbo of one form or the other.
And still...
After all this wondering and pondering,
After the meals and hours
The cups of tea and afternoon showers
I cannot remmeber not one iota
Not a thought or thread
Of how this came to be.
This place where the strange is not so strange
And your face is memorable, but your name
I lack your name...
How most wonderously strange.
The years have passed in this place,
This place where we do not age.
This place most wonderously strange.
And after all this time
I remmeber the face,
Yet never the name...
The name, what is your name? Not even you will tell.
But wait! Ah I have it
The name!
But I awake.
Panting as if hunted.
In a place I know, but do not wish to know.
My eyes flick.
Wall to wall
Face to face.
I know, I know this place.
And still my heart pounds.
Those years
We naught but a dream.


**Sorry for the double post**

I must warn everyone that this experience was the most shocking to me. It's a personal event that happened a few months before my bothers death, when he went missing.


Went Missing

The phone rang one day at work;
It split the silence, made me jerk,

While I was cross-stitching some
Ornaments, my brothers doctor it was from.

Her voice was urgent, my hands went cold,
He missed his appointment, I was told.

I felt my stomach tighten, my mouth was dry,
My brain was screaming, "This is it, now don't cry!"

My free hand reflexively reached for the box;
The tissues, just out of reach, causing a few knocks,

As I bumped a few things out of the way,
My thoughts were racing, "Where is he?", that day.

The sun was quickly fading, almost out of view.
"Talk, say something, ask the doctor what I should do?"

She spent some 30 minutes of her already overtaxed time;
Talking to me as I pulled myself together, all on her dime.

She really cared for her patient, my brother;
He wasn't just another xray, file or number.

I asked her if I should report him missing since,
He's an adult, not a child but he might drive into a fence;

On some lonely stretch of road, not knowing where he was,
These were some of the things I was thinking because,

The illness my brother had was stealing him away from me;
The dementia he had was not before shown to us, a mystery.

How long had he quietly suffered in pain, alone?
I stood, then paced inside the office while on the phone.

Who to call first, it must be the sheriff or highway patrol?
I know, I'll call his roommate, he's probably home? Keep control!

Suddenly, I was full of hope again, though guarded,
I couldn't afford the heartache if he was already warded;

Picked up by the highway patrol and in jail for
Swerving while driving, were ideas dancing and more,

The roommate answered, his reply was, "No, I haven't seen him,
He left early this morning." I asked him to call me then,

As the tears started to flow, I told him who called,
What was said and that I had to go, I bawled!

Like I was four years old, all over again,
All of the happy summer days we would spend!

Through thick and thin he was always there for me;
"Now dry those eyes, and dial those numbers!", cheerfully.

Your brother's just missing and maybe there's time, still;
Just don't call your husband yet or you'll lose your will.

So I reported him missing in my county first since,
Here was where I thought he might be headed, made sense;

"Report him first to the county he resides."
Was the reply I got, I said, "Thank you and besides",

I was speaking with the highway patrol, "Aren't I right?"
"If my brother is suffering from dementia, I shouldn't make light",

"This situation is serious, lives are at stake?"
His demeanor changed, "What road do you think he would take?"

I felt my heart clam down and stomach release the tension;
He'll get help soon, "Someone's paying attention!"

I quickly called the sheriff's office for the right county,
They quietly explained he was an adult and had every right to be;

Missing or committing suicide, that's his right;
As my voice quivered, I said, "But not tonight!"

As I explained the situation and calls, I was given
To a detective who knew all about dementia, the non-livin';

All the pleading and begging was over for now;
I would call my boss and my husband, somehow,

Explaining to both that when I got the call,
To my brother I would race, that was all.

Just the very next day, just around two,
The patrolman called to say, "We found him, just like you",

"Said he would be, driving in circles trying to find I77."
I told them thank you and said a prayer of thanks to heaven.

Just a tiny miracle, a personal one at best;
Now I could breathe easier and get some rest.