The following is a list of all accepted entries. If I've missed yours, please inform me. You can still submit as long as you get it in before tomorrow.
===HAIKU===
Be still, beating heart!
Curse you and the noise you make
under the floorboards!
Ding! The doors open;
People come and people go,
Some stay where they are.
Old, wooden floorboards
Supporting my family.
I thank them for this.
The Tower of Life
The Tower of Life,
Its steps winding upward,
Floors, to be conquered.
Got a promotion,
Up up to floor five hundred;
Embrace cold darkness.
It's used to define
Levels of society
But it never works
I lie on the ground
The earth solid below me
Moves on without me
The ground must shatter
We should take it down a notch
Though there's no hammer
Hard wooden blunt wall
Divides the up from the down
Protector of feet
Lunchtime
on the gray carpet
sharing my homemade bento
munch, munch, poignant pause
Is this the flat floor,
Or the ceiling of a room?
Inverse universe.
Creaking echoes out,
Smoothness underneath I felt,
A cold wooden floor.
Walls, doors, floors and boards,
Avalanche falls. Rattling roars.
Moving floor - no more!
===POETRY===
General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade
Towering brothers, offspring of hybris,
You call yourself fair, you call yourself free;
do you not see your true hypocrisy?
You will be ravaged, God is my witness.
My bauxite casing in sapphire air,
shall force itself in your virgin body
and leave blood-red scarring memory.
Everyone shall know, to God I swear.
Story. Upon.
Story. Upon.
Floor. Upon.
Floor. Upon.
You.
Hideous, heathen.
May the hatred in my heart
fill your house, your spouse your hearth.
Floors, not flowers shall cover my graveyard.
And in my death, you shall be my neighbour.
Lonely World
Darkness, in the lonely house,
My footsteps, falling on the wooden planks.
The silence hinting at the worse.
The world howls at my existence,
The floorboards moan their ghastly song,
When I let the pain out.
Ice in my once-warm heart,
The floor collapses beneath me,
For it cannot hold on anymore.
Neither can I.
This is Where we Meet
Separating us, a rug,
An Afghan if I ever saw one.
Laying thing, lying there,
I'm not sure which, and,
To be frankly honest, to be
Frankly clear, frankly my dear,
I do not, so much, if it were,
Give a care. Just look at the
Afghan, laying, lying there.
There are a dozen dozen,
Dozen dozen, hundred spaces
Separating us, between you,
The rug (the Afghan) and I.
And for what? What? What?
Deaf men tell no tales. There's
The rug and nothing more.
The rug and the space. Between
Us, and that's all.
This is where we meet,
We meet here every day,
Every hour and minute,
I do not focus on you,
But the rug, between our feet.
Between our lives, on the floor
Fifty feet from the door.
Laying, lying on the floor. And
All that I see, that is left,
That is the tangible part,
Of whatever this is (was)
Is an Afghan.
An Afghan rug is laying,
(Lying) between us, on the
Floor. Fifty feet from the door.
Standby Bed
Fly, fly up the stairs!
Ten minutes and nothing more,
Run, run from his glare,
And for God's sake, clean the floor!
Recruit, in the toilet now,
Dry as his dead sense of humour,
Not a drop of water he'll allow!
Quick! Watch the sergeant's temper!
Scrub, mop, dry the tiles,
Wipe them with used newspapers,
Better yet, wipe off your smile!
You bloody maggot, you're a soldier!
Spotted the faint spot of grime,
What's this, he loudly bellows,
You've had far enough time,
So what should I do with you fellows?
Permission to carry on sergeant!
The whole lot knock it down!
Time ticks, make it urgent!
And I swear it lessens his frown.
