Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)
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First, I will post the overall rules, and then I will post the specifics about this week.
Original rules, as stated by Ubertuna:
It must fit the week's theme.
It must be submitted by the deadline.
It cannot have inappropriate language in it.
It cannot be stolen (if you plagiarize, we will find you).
Also:
The poem must be created for this contest
A user cannot win two weeks in a row (though everyone is welcome to submit every week!)
Only one submission per user will be accepted
As we all know, the winner will recieve a merit, and their poem will be featured on the _Poetry_ page.
OK, on to this week's topic...Again, we are having a style instead of a theme. Also, this week we are having TWO WEEKS to do it, instead of the usual one. Why? Because this will be an EPIC poem. Or, rather, a parody of an epic poem. Generally, epic poetry is very long, and tells the serious story of a heroic figure. Well, this week, the epic figure is YOU! Write a long poem (I'll leave the definition of 'long' up to you, but give it a good go) about the heroic story of you! It can be silly, serious, whatever... just have fun with it. You have two weeks, so have a great time!
- 3,868 Replies
Is the cutoff date tomorrow?
I need to double check something first, so if I don't have a poem in by tomorrow, and I haven't said otherwise, try to stall...
Okay. A few minutes.
Just double checking something first.
Thanks...
I am terribly sorry, but I don't have any internet access at home, and currently I am stealing it from a neighbor. Sadly, the reception is terrible, and unreliable.
Luckily, thanks to TheSid, the poem is now uploaded.
*Comments Estel"s poem*
MY GOD!!!!!!! Your poem is... awesome
Great job Estel.
*looks forward to more lulz*
LULZ
Once again great poem Estel.
You have a very creative mind.
I am now wondering how much of my self I actually let slip into my writing (both posts and art) and pictures...
Most of that poem is spot on, if not at this time, then at some time in the past.
Nice renders, btw.
*wonders how much of something I mentioned in the mazzelh thread* *shrugs and wanders off, fascinated*
*wonders how much of something I mentioned in the mazzelh thread*
Actually, I haven't really been reading the Mazzelh thread. Once threads reach more than 5 pages I tend to loose track, and get too far back to catch up.
The pictures I got from your photobucket album. I hope you don't mind.
Ok guys, sorry for the wait. I've been kinda busy for the past couple days and this is the first chance I've had to sit down and judge. First off, I'd like to say that I've seen some of the best entries ever in this contest. All of you did a great job, and it was very hard picking a winner. In the end, it came down to a couple of users for the final prize. I was very impressed with the submissions of Estel, Cenere, Parsat, and Gantic. All of your submissions were quite amazing and funny to read. In the end, I am going to have to award the prize to Parsat, for "A Limerick Ballad to our Princess." It was funny, sounded great, and portrayed Zoph's awesomeness. Congrats!
I once knew a good lass, a Dane,
She was smart, and made use of her brain,
So they gave her a mop
Like Tuna and Strop
On AG, Zophia's the name.
First she tried out her shiny padlock
On a spammy thread filled with dumb crock
That new lock she snapped
All discussion was capped
It was time now to deal with the sock.
The sock was quite boisterous and rude
While he roamed, much mayhem ensued,
Came Zoph with the hammer,
Threw him into the slammer,
That sock was royally screwed.
It was time for the gift of the merit
What user would be first to share it?
She found a nice comment
And left them a present
Could be you, if you take time to prepare it.
Zophia, she sets us a-dazzle
Helps us when we're up in a frazzle
But one thing I inquire
Between Princess and Squire,
What's the difference 'twixt furries and mazzelh?
Now for the honorable mentions. I'd like to give a big congrats to these users for submitting great poems, and I'm sorry that you didn't win it. Great job to all of you!
Estel, for "Ode to Zoph"
Zophia, Zophia, come hither,
the time has come for you.
To accept moderator duties,
deleting spam from Sonny 2.
Born among the furries,
in la la land.
Drawing cute little creatures,
only done by hand.
Of course Zophia cheats,
and uses photoshop.
Adding blurry effects,
oh no, she needs to crop!
So now she's called the n00b,
among her mod friends.
She hides her rage inside,
behind her convex lense.
Ode to you, dear Zoph,
I expect good from you.
Fighting the lowly spammers,
so without further adieu.....
Cenere, for "It's Hard to be a Moderator"
It's hard to be a moderator
Don't you think
Having people conversating
Before you blink
A thousand comments
just for you
People having problems
Now what do you do
Being stressed
sleeping late
Should have guessed
it is fate
like that time
you know when
You were more than a friend
All alone at day
Wathcing the hours go by
Contact rejected
No one calling but I
But what you wished for
became the Truth
I just hope
You have nothing to lose...
And Gantic, for "Is It Right If You Don't Enter?"
Is it right if You don't enter
In this Night on this December,
If it's Your Name the People hear?
If in this Game of jestly cheer?
Is it right if You don't enter?
In this Fight You are the Center.
If it is You who's known as Yazz?
If it is true You's not a Spazz?
Is it right if You don't enter?
Is denying us Your Splendour?
If in this Time You're Queen of Arts?
If in this Rhyme You're seen in Parts?
Is it right if You don't enter?
In this Light You are the Center.
Is Mazzelhness to shy away?
Does razzle-less define her Way?
In this Night on this December,
Is it right if You don't enter?
Is this to be, You newest Mod?
If it is She, the Mazzelh God?
Now lastly, our weekly fail award. It's going to go to ManUtd4Life094. EPIC FAIL >:O
Zophia farted.
But besides stopping, she ate more beans to end what she started.
The world cried from the stink.
But Zophia just yelled "My farts are pink!"
The smell rose,
From Connecticut to New Mexico.
People were dying,
But Zophia yellled "Oh, stop your crying"
And with that, she farted once more,
and killed more people with a stink that could fry smores.
She yelled with delight, it felt oh so good!
But then the people came up with a plan and they stood-
up to her, they screamed
"Here, have more beans!"
And Zophia ate and ate, and farted and farted,
until nothing was left of her, except a retarded-
brain.
Now, this week's theme. It seems to me that we have had a lot of "funny" themes over the past week, and that's all well and good. I enjoy a laugh as much as the rest of you. I do think, however, that it about time that we focus on something a little more serious. This is why I have decided to make the theme for the next contest...
SESTINAS!
For those of you that do not know, a sestina is a special type of poem. It works something like this...
It has 6 lines in each stanza, and 6 stanzas total, plus a three tercet (end piece). The last words in each line follows a patten from stanza to stanza. The words can be in any order in the first stanza, but in the second the last word is first, the first is second, the second to last is third, the second is fourth, the third to last is fifth, and the third is last. In each stanza, you apply this pattern to the last words in the lines of the previous stanza. The words in the tercet can be in any order. For any of you that don't understand, here's an example:
Vampire Sestina, by Neil Gaiman
I wait here at the boundaries of dream,
all shadow-wrapped. The dark air tastes of night,
so cold and crisp, and I wait for my love.
The moon has bleached the color from her stone.
Sheâll come, and then weâll stalk this pretty world
alive to darkness and the tang of blood.
It is a lonely game, the quest for blood,
but still, a bodyâs got the right to dream
and Iâd not give it up for all the world.
The moon has leeched the darkness from the night.
I stand in shadows, staring at her stone:
Undead, my loverâ¦O, undead my love?
I dreamt you while and slept today and love
meant more to me than life-meant more than blood.
The sunlight sought me, deep beneath my stone,
more dead than any corpse but still a-dream
until I woke as vapor into night
and sunset forced me out into the world.
For many centuries Iâve walked the world
dispensing something that resembled love-
a stolen kiss, then back into the night
contented by the life and by the blood.
And come the morning I was just a dream,
cold body chilling underneath a stone.
Sometimes my lovers rise to walk the nightâ¦
Sometimes they lie, cold corpse beneath a stone,
and never know the joys of bed and blood,
of walking through the shadows of the world;
instead they rot to maggots. O my love
they whispered you had risen, in my dream.
Iâve waited by your stone for half the night
but you wonât leave your dream to hunt for blood.
Good night, my love. I offered you the world.
Sestinas can be very tricky poems to write, so I am going to give you two weeks to write them. Bonus points for managing to make one rhyme. Good luck, and have fun!
Blargh, copy paste fail. Here's a copy without all of the errors.
I wait here at the boundaries of dream,
all shadow-wrapped. The dark air tastes of night,
so cold and crisp, and I wait for my love.
The moon has bleached the color from her stone.
She'll come, and then we'll stalk this pretty world
alive to darkness and the tang of blood.
It is a lonely game, the quest for blood,
but still, a body's got the right to dream
and I'd not give it up for all the world.
The moon has leeched the darkness from the night.
I stand in shadows, staring at her stone:
Undead, my lover...O, undead my love?
I dreamt you while and slept today and love
meant more to me than life-meant more than blood.
The sunlight sought me, deep beneath my stone,
more dead than any corpse but still a-dream
until I woke as vapor into night
and sunset forced me out into the world.
For many centuries I've walked the world
dispensing something that resembled love-
a stolen kiss, then back into the night
contented by the life and by the blood.
And come the morning I was just a dream,
cold body chilling underneath a stone.
Sometimes my lovers rise to walk the night...
Sometimes they lie, cold corpse beneath a stone,
and never know the joys of bed and blood,
of walking through the shadows of the world;
instead they rot to maggots. O my love
they whispered you had risen, in my dream.
I've waited by your stone for half the night
but you won't leave your dream to hunt for blood.
Good night, my love. I offered you the world.
Does the tercet have to have two of the words per line? That's the part that's confusing me most.
This is my mock entry. Mock for mockery and mock for mock-up. In case I don't get an idea in time.
The Pure Badness of Mockery
How lovely something open-ended.
Wrought into a razor-edged stabile.
A tormenting gash upon the verdancy.
I hate those sculptures made of steel!
But we do get one week extended.
To end everything upon redundancy.
Yeah. This will lead to redundancy.
It's a wonderful thing to be open-ended.
We do get our time to work extended.
But what idiot chose the word stabile?
Are they even really made of steel?
And what the heck is verdancy?
That lovely greenness is verdancy.
And I'll start here with redundancy.
Because I hate those sculptures made of steel!
Because my mind is not open-ended.
I have never liked a stabile.
So this'll be the same poem extended.
So this'll be the same poem extended.
That lovely greenness is verdancy
I have never liked a stabile.
And I'll start here with redundancy.
Because my mind is not open-ended.
Because I hate those scultpures made of steel!
I hate those scultpures made of steel!
But we do get one week extended.
How lovely something open-ended.
A tormenting gash upon the verdancy.
To end everything upon redundancy.
Wrought into a razor-edged stabile.
But what idiot chose the word stabile?
Are they even really made of steel?
Yeah. This will lead to redundancy.
We do get our time to work extended.
And what the heck is verdancy?
It's a wonderful thing to be open-ended.
A stabile is not necessarily made of steel.
And one should never use redundancy extended.
Or the word verdancy even if it's open-ended.
I'll make a Sestina later. (Too tired to do whack.)
@Gantic
LOL I laughed when I read it. XD
I havent been on in a while, last time i was i would say it was less then a good site, but now it seems the moderaters have cleaned it up a little. Any way the poems are good, but i dont think i have the time to write one for my self.
Aw, no mention for IqAndreas' entry last week? Naw. I think he deserved one.
Anyway, sestinas. Took me a few tries to understand what the structure is supposed to be, but I think I've got it...
There is no set amount of syllables needed for any line?
I was considering giving him one, but the poem sounded a little off to me. I really loved the effort put into it though, with all the mazzelhs and color. In retrospect, I think I'm going to give him the "Artsy Submission" award. And no, there is no set amount of syllables for any line. Oh, and in reply to gantic: I think that Gaiman used a couplet instead of a tercet, with two words in each line in the pattern 123 456 or 135 246. You are free to use either method.
Will enter when I can wake up....and have enough energy to think...it looks tricky...I was thinking of using the words: Cheese, face, ice-cream, frog, horse and Victoria. Hmm....
KingRyan
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