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

Demon, don't spam the best thread on AG. It is just wrong.

Zaork, I liked it, but it jumped around alot. In my opinion, work on the flow of it mkay?

Kingryan, yours was awesome.

Wolf, yours made me think of Shutter Island lol. I like it.

Wajor, That was packed full of emotions. Just... wow. Great job.

Now that you mention it Moon, it's true that wolf's poem strangely reminds me of shutter island...That movie was real feed for mindfuck, it was incredible.
As for the overall quality of the sunmissions this week, I'm very surprised by how well everyone did with such a simple theme as shock...thruth be told I'm clueless as of what to do. I think I'll ponder that at work today.

i feel like a mouse going up against whales and no you guys aren't fat.

My xbox turned off
In the middle of an important game
My rep will be ruined
My name will be shattered.

"MOM MAKE ME A SANDWHICH!"

i feel like a mouse going up against whales and no you guys aren't fat.

If you feel like king rat it'll be okay...
Of course, I don't expect anone but Alt to understand this...

Demon, don't spam the best thread on AG. It is just wrong.

If you feel like king rat it'll be okay...

I expected you to come back with such Alt...And oh God! That thread! I remember that...

Overpowering electric need,
Slowly makes my body bleed,
Sweat to death in rolling beads,
Wires give me lightning feed.

Everlasting frying pain,
Insanely screaming out in vain,
Burning death for no one's gain,
Exterminate a worldly bane.

Victims families watch in fear,
Watching as my body sears,
Singeing flesh is all they hear,
Death for crimes of yesteryear.

Blackened earth is all I see,
Soon as I shall cease to be,
Execution riding me,
Once I'm dead they clap in glee.

The last one to die that way,
It wasn't so bad is all I say,
They called it a horrible way,
No more have fried since that day.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Not terrible at all I think. One of my better ones. Thoughts?

They gave me ink, sheets and a feather
To create life out of thin air
Cooped in my prayer capsule, I wonder
Whom shall create my flair

Closure, yet measureless spaces
They galore here; of both I need
Eye of eyes; omnipercipient races
The void surges as a gleaming bleed

For a page is thought before it is written
A conception to take place upon blank
So fare thee well upon those lines given;
Expanding traits in an infinite prank

Drawn on a canvas of many dreams
Reality may be a ticking clock
And as appaling as it seams
We live, die and rot in a shock
As ideas upon a mind
As the universe now blind

That was very fun to make. I hope you guys can get something out of it...There're some Nietzschean references, but nothing plagiated of course ^^.

Please note that the Seams is a typing mistake. Alt, would you be so kind as to replace it by seems on the judging post, I don't want to spam the thread ^^. Thanks!

Correction: this is the 2nd best thread on AG. The best is this thread.

Parsat isn't doing a rhymed poem? Satan called, he says he needs more coal. Still, I'm not giving up my beloved meter. This is blank verse. In writing this I tried to incorporate many different meanings of shocks, and I didn't think this message was fit for rhyme.

Shocks of Hair

My fingers ran through the raven locks,
The raven locks that cascaded softly
Across her face--the pair of almond eyes
And innocently flushed cheeks--and down
A length just long enough to hide her breasts.
When I ran my fingers through her hair,
I did with fingers parted like a comb
And delicately, without a rush,
Broke all the light resistance in that hair,
The locks within the locks that could be picked
With fingers made to press piano keys.

And when she kissed me, her hands went into
A shock of dense hair from my mother's side--
Not dry or oily, rough or soft or silken.
She grasped as one would grasp a tiny mouse,
With fingers comfortingly curled to make
A safe and warm enticing home, a lure:
Her hands were often cold, you see, and she
Became the one to seek heat from a source
Whose lifeblood was not electricity.

But Samson was not strong at all, he fell
And bowed with face hung to a woman loved.
His shorn locks fell, and all his oaths and strength
Dissolved and left him powerless in shame.

My love, did I betray the secret of your heart?
That all the promises and loving strength
Nurtured by the works of Passion's hands
Were killed maliciously by wetted steel?
When basic treatment finished were you shocked
To find that I was not the man you knew to love?
The faults of Eve and Samson both combined
So that a girl was now a woman new;
But Adam did not sin, and to his shock,
His paradise was still forever lost.

I like it Parsat...a good interpretation of the Biblical stories...

Is the 'shock of hair' a play on words?

Sorry ignore that last point, hadn't heard the expression before...

After lurking around this thread for a while, I thought I'd make my own contribution.

Perhaps he waited, a bit too long,
Placing last touches to his last love song.
Impeccable, his rhyme, his meter
With a grin of delight, he could almost see her-
Within the words, the phrases, the imagery
The metaphor, the allegory, the simile
On foot to took off, toward her last known location
His heart pounding, expressing utmost elation
At last, her quaint apartment he reached
Sweeping through the doors, he bounded, he leaped
Her face of ghostly pallor, she laid on her bed
Unmoving, still, her young life had fled
Footsteps creaked up stairs, the house dimly lighted
Slowing down his pace, her room door!, he sighted
A giddy expression set upon his face,
He entered, carrying the song in his hands


Rather than making an obvious shock, I tapered the poem off at the end and left more to the imagination. Also, I incorporated an additional shock by changing the rhythmical pattern at the poem's conclusion.