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Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)

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Posted Aug 26, '09 at 4:27pm

Parsat

Parsat

1,810 posts

Just a notice: Two more days and then submissions will be closed. Judging will begin promptly at that time, and will be submitted the next day.

 

Posted Aug 26, '09 at 4:42pm

thisisnotanalt

thisisnotanalt

8,475 posts

Ugh, I'm totally blocked for this theme. . . .

I may scrounge something up though.

 

Posted Aug 27, '09 at 3:47pm

Thyll

Thyll

347 posts

I cower in the corner,
But they find me, they find
Me, in fetal position
To morals they're blind

I bleed like an ocean
And cry with a passion
And I wonder, I wonder
Will I survive this lashing?

I cave in inside myself
And I don't feel the pain
I hug the ground for dear life
The ground covered in blood stains

They hunt me, they hunt me
It's all in good fun
A can of beer in one hand
And in the other a gun

Someone looks at me
He looks, and peers
"Oh God! Oh *****k!"
He shouts out in fear.
"This isn't a buck!"
"This isn't a deer!"

The tears have stopped coming
All liquid has left me
They cry out in despair,
And death comes to see

The torture, the torture,
the death I inhale
I collapse on myself
(I am so frail)

They argue, they argue
"Should I call 911?
Should I hide the body,
Lie about the gun?"

"What about college?
Him, He's dead.
But not us, we've got
Our entire lives ahead."

One of them sneaks off,
And on his phone,
He calls in to save me
But he starts to groan

He's got no battery or reception.

Bleh, I don't like this poem. It makes me feel Emo-y writing it.

 

Posted Aug 27, '09 at 9:54pm

Parsat

Parsat

1,810 posts

A reminder that tomorrow is the final day for submissions.

 

Posted Aug 27, '09 at 10:05pm

GuitarHeroFtw

GuitarHeroFtw

855 posts

judging toMORROW. i hope i win. XD

 

Posted Aug 28, '09 at 5:17am

nichodemus

nichodemus

11,884 posts

Knight

An Old Piece...tweaked a little...

A Werewolf and the Moon
Staring woefully at Her,
I sit listlessly downing the bitter liquor.
She calls to me a silent siren,

More entrancing than Lord Byron.
The blood-red Moon she signals to me,
Desperate I struggle to break free.
These iron chains bind me to a curse,

Condemned to an eternal thirst.
The clock strikes a sinister twelve,
Into a Feral hell I know I must delve.
My soul it trembles and shrivels,

An ancient battle of accursed devils.
My primal instincts grow stronger.
My mind is possessed human no longer.
My resistance crumbles and shatters asunder.

My body intend on vicious murder.
The Brethren call for me,
Only they hold the Cure and Key.
Whither shall I painfully go?

To treat them as friend or foe?
The dreaded fur pierces as I falter,
My pupils widen, their colours alter.
The Human in me is finally dead,

The emotions in my eyes ominously fade.
The Moon's silvery tones and voice,
Cruelly drain me of my own choice.
I cannot restrain the overwhelming tide,

The Wolf in me stirs where it resides.
I tear and rip at my chest,
Nothing can behold me I withstood Time's Test.
The hot saliva coats my long teeth,

I crave the Holy Waters of the Church's priest.
My limbs lengthen; I walk on all fours,
As I smash through the magnificent oak doors.
Snarling I spit vehemently on the fields,

Graveyard of my merciless kills.
The Moon controls me like a marionette,
It has all been a glittery masquerade.
My hunger knows no bounds,

My razor claws rake at the grounds.
A faithful servant of darkness,
Patter of heavy feet in the forest.
Twin crimson spots flit at the flimsy gate,

Cloaked in malevolence and pure hatred.
I howl aimlessly for my true brothers,
Shunning all the others.
My mournful cry rocks everyone to the core,

Wild splashing of blood and gore.
People bolt their wooden houses,
Lowering already hush whispers.
My name speaks of dread and despair,

One of Nature's ruthless Corsairs.
Cold winds ripples my hide,
None but the Moon as a guide.
A shapeless shadow silently running,

Mouth agape, tongue hanging.
Hated and feared creature of the night,
I am the Infernal Blight.
Without a thought I stalk and slaughter,

Amidst the crunching of bone and hyena laughter.
I am more than a terrifying nightmare,
To challenge me none will dare.
My bite carries the Curse,

The thrill of midnight hunts,
Under the spell of a trance,
Satisfy the growing hunger,
And across the plains I wander.

Wallowing in decay fully immersed.
The Moon how she torments me on the rack,
To lie bloated on the essence of the infected.
Vile and immortal desecrator of tombs.

A Werewolf and the Moon.

 

Posted Aug 28, '09 at 12:25pm

Reton8

Reton8

2,543 posts

Moderator

That poem is amazing. Nice use of alliteration. The rhyme scheme is nicely laid out as well. Well, the whole poem is amazing.

 

Posted Aug 28, '09 at 1:51pm

ligaboy

ligaboy

1,019 posts

Nichodemus, really nice poem. I thought I had a chance until you entered

 

Posted Aug 28, '09 at 9:30pm

Maverick4

Maverick4

3,707 posts

Eh, I never stood a chance to begin with...

And Nicho, Ive written one or two werewolf-ish poems, you may have seen them. There somewhere in the huge wall of text that is my story threads' OP...

 

Posted Aug 29, '09 at 1:00am

nichodemus

nichodemus

11,884 posts

Knight

Oh bulll!!!!! Wait I mixed the whole poem up when the title merged into the first verse....

A Werewolf and the Moon

Staring woefully at Her,
I sit listlessly downing the bitter liquor.
She calls to me a silent siren,
More entrancing than Lord Byron.

The blood-red Moon she signals to me,
Desperate I struggle to break free.
These iron chains bind me to a curse,
Condemned to an eternal thirst.

The clock strikes a sinister twelve,
Into a Feral hell I know I must delve.
My soul it trembles and shrivels,
An ancient battle of accursed devils.

My primal instincts grow stronger.
My mind is possessed human no longer.
My resistance crumbles and shatters asunder.
My body intend on vicious murder.

The Brethren call for me,
Only they hold the Cure and Key.
Whither shall I painfully go?
To treat them as friend or foe?

The dreaded fur pierces as I falter,
My pupils widen, their colours alter.
The Human in me is finally dead,
The emotions in my eyes ominously fade.

The Moon's silvery tones and voice,
Cruelly drain me of my own choice.
I cannot restrain the overwhelming tide,
The Wolf in me stirs where it resides.

I tear and rip at my chest,
Nothing can behold me I withstood Time's Test.
The hot saliva coats my long teeth,
I crave the Holy Waters of the Church's priest.

My limbs lengthen; I walk on all fours,
As I smash through the magnificent oak doors.
Snarling I spit vehemently on the fields,
Graveyard of my merciless kills.

The Moon controls me like a marionette,
It has all been a glittery masquerade.
My hunger knows no bounds,
My razor claws rake at the grounds.

A faithful servant of darkness,
Patter of heavy feet in the forest.
Twin crimson spots flit at the flimsy gate,
Cloaked in malevolence and pure hatred.

I howl aimlessly for my true brothers,
Shunning all the others.
My mournful cry rocks everyone to the core,
Wild splashing of blood and gore.

People bolt their wooden houses,
Lowering already hush whispers.
My name speaks of dread and despair,
One of Nature's ruthless Corsairs.

Cold winds ripples my hide,
None but the Moon as a guide.
A shapeless shadow silently running,
Mouth agape, tongue hanging.

Hated and feared creature of the night,
I am the Infernal Blight.
Without a thought I stalk and slaughter,
Amidst the crunching of bone and hyena laughter.

I am more than a terrifying nightmare,
To challenge me none will dare.
My bite carries the Curse,
Wallowing in decay fully immersed.

Flee, flee behold I descend,
No stronghold will suffice to defend.
A maelstorm of pure hate,
My hunger will never abate.

The thrill of midnight hunts,
Under the spell of a trance,
Satisfy the growing hunger,
And across the plains I wander.

The Moon how she torments me on the rack,
To lie bloated on the essence of the infected.
Vile and immortal desecrator of tombs.
A Werewolf and the Moon.

Oh adn Parsat...I wrote it in May, but tweaked it a little....I know oh well...can it still be accepted? *looks at rules*