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

As I look into the water,
All that I see
Is my angry face,
Glaring back at me.

I look determined,
But I feel my own fear.
All I have to do,
Is jump down from this pier.

I can't look to the sky
Because I don't want to worry about my salvation,
Isn't taking my own life
Condeming me to ****ation?

Oh no
Here I go
Wondering about what is next.
Is there a way to say that I am afraid?
Without having some one coming in to invade
On my poor little pity parade?
I can't remeber the last time I prayed.

But this is why I want to leave
So I don't have to wonder.
If this next life really exists.

After I stop unclenching my fists,
I jump off the rail, and start to fall.
I hit the water, with a sound as loud as thunder. Hoping it was heard by all.

As I lose my sensory feelings, One clear thought screams through my head.
I'm going under and there is nothing I can do.
Nothing I want to do.
Nothing to be done.
I guess I lost in the long run

Because all I see is black
I don't hear a voice,
Trying to call me back.
I don't feel my self being lifted or pulled
To heaven or hell.
There goes my shot at figuring it out.
Seems usless now to think, Oh well.

I feel myself
fading away
Not even darkness
Just a generic shade of grey.
So this is what it boils down to.
Nothing in itself.
Let me fade off with this last adieu.


First post, first poem. Critizize and be merry.

Hold it! Due to my stupidity and an odd problem with Gmail's automatic forwarding, I didn't get the proper theme memo. The theme, as decided by wolf, should be "New Beginnings." :P Apologies to those of you who already submitted.

Well I don't want people to waste their submissions. We'll have the theme I picked be next week's theme. Do not panic people we shall continue with the teme Parsat has decided on, which is REFLECTIONS

The Sea Will Not Dream of You

Oh pale undrawn breath that shall never be,
What have you become? A working of links;
Naught but chains. Your gaze has met an eye more subtle,
A voice more melodious than yours, a heart
That still beats in time with life given.
You now gaze into an indifferent sky, as the wind
Caresses the skin that once felt, the lips that once
Tasted the kiss of a lover. And the heart of the sea
Beats on, while your heart has ceased all beatings.

You are but one link in an imperfect chain. A chain
That tried to cirumference the world. And failed.
Does it not sting you? Even beyond the reach of such feeling?
Does it not reach into that dead heart of yours
And steal the last stubborn will that I know has not yet died
Regardless of the fact that you have stopped all living?
You tried to rule, and have fallen. You tried...

But what of your triumphs? Oh what triumph is there in death?
Should we all bow our heads? Should we look to see you rise?
I think not. Your cold gleam has now be cast aside.
Into the shadows from which it sprung, and took out hearts
Like some ravenous beast that longed for feeding,
Despite already being fed. You twisted us into your slaves,
Made us wear chains of our own making, brought the clash
Of swords and the cries of widows to our very homes,
Seen proud men march off under the burdern of you expectation.
And yet. You claimed it was not enough.
The fire of war must be fed, so you declared! Declared!
For the whole world to hear. For everone to be subjugated,
To bow to your throne of lies and imperfection.
And you ask to speak of triumph.

Dead lips may not move, but well do I hear your voice.
It whispers false assurance into my ear. It tells me
That you will rise in the guise of another.
That all I say to your dead form is to no avail,
That the sea shall indeed dream of you, and so be content.
But, you are as mad in death, as you are in life.
Cruel King of Chains, I once knew than man you were,
No longer. A corpse is all I see now, and all your imperfection
Is revealed to my ever keen eye. And this I know, dear brother.
The sea shall not dream of you. Not now, nor ever.

Daydreaming

Ticking on the mantelpiece
Cleaving away ribbons of age
As if they were soft fleece;
Countless writings on a page

A war of thought to gaze upon
Is what you wrought from lands undrawn;
A clash of skies and lands alike
To confound both sides of the glass
Stomp them hard the nails of present
That circle the edges of the coffins
Coffins made for well taught thoughts
And reflections of what is and what if

Ticking on the mantelpiece
In a iron frame is contained
A countless amount of mirrors
All in the embrace of twelve numbers

Happy new year folks!
May your year be one of success and joy, and may we all continue to live well together on Ag!

Oh crap...missed it. :/ Unless you're still accepting, judging from number of poems...four if my eyes still work.

Oh crap...missed it. :/

Admittedly, the deadline was a quick one, but I was prepared for only a few submissions. This theme is "New Beginnings" indeed, as determined by the poet of last month, wolf1991. The deadline for this theme is January 11, 2011. I'll have the judging for last in a short time.

Thanks for the new topic...might get my butt off this chair, straighten up and start typing some poems.

Trudging along across a small stream,
Look down below me and see something gleam,
It looks a bit like me,
So I decided to see.

Went up closer,
Chill behind my spine,
Looked up into the water, saw the face was mine.

I got scared, but I didnât care.
Jumped into the stream.
But it was empty it seems.

This was great, but not finding it, I started to hate.
Where are you I called?
Nothing, answered just some rock fall.

I dived back down,
Came up, face with a frown.
I was now wet, and I canât find this guy I bet.

Suddenly, out from a tree, came a girl.
She said, what you have seen,
In the stream,
Was a pure crazy dream.
It is you in the water, but it is not a person,
In the years to come,
It will be noticed more by some.

Trudging along across a small stream,
Look down below me and see something gleam,
It had a beautiful face,
A person, clearly filled with grace.
He had a terrific smile,
You could see itâs width, back from a mile.
His eyes,
I seemed to recognise.
His nose,
It was as red as a rose.
His cheeks,
Always looking really bleak.
Then, I started into the eyes,
Which was when I began to realise,
They were mine,
It sent a chill down my spine.
I began to see, this person was me.
It was a reflection.

Alright, first to post for the new theme:

It seems that the time has come
to make amends with you
for everything that I have done
that may have come to hurt you

I went and took it for granted
the way you felt 'bout me
now it seems you hate me so
I wish that I had seen

So now I try to start us new
revive what once was lost
Please let me try to make this right
So we could be together
again and forever

My first submission. I really, er, suck at this?

Wolf

Ah the Wolf,
do you hear him not?
Howling cries,
a tortured soul,
happiness forgot.

Oh the Wolf,
I hear him so,
giving star-ved moans,
what it hungers for;
I don't know what.

Sh, the Wolf,
and you'll see his eyes,
so close to the shelter that lies.

Ya the Wolf!
He listens so,
hi-ding in the bushes crouched down low,
not trusting the warmth,
seeing false hope.

Lo the Wolf,
mourning the cold,
seeing the others and the food they hold.

So the Wolf,
two choices he knows,
the others see him,
he shies away like startled prey,
comes back, edges out.

Yea the Wolf,
he takes the chance,
strange acceptance,
joyous experience,
a new beginning;
a home.

New Beginnings
Can defy
what you thought
the difference of

right and wrong
it can also
set you straight
but they can change it up

making the right
now the wrong
and the left
to the right

but it can lead you
off the path
but can also
make you see