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).
Uh, he did mention Charles Dickens in the theme topic. I would suppose you should follow that notion.
Will making it a more general theme be better Wolf? Since not everyone has read Dickens. Blasphemous for English literature students, but still.
Depends on what Wolf wants though. Has the contest really started? I'm afraid people get confused because of the theme.
Theme: Charles Dickons's "A Christmas Carol"
Reasons why I will not change it:
1. You have all heard the story in some shape or form.
2. Most themes have been broad lately. I am giving this narrow theme as a challenge to see what you can muster.
Hang on, does this mean that if next week is Hannukah week *nudge nudge*, I would have to submit a different poem?
Why would that be so? The theme doesn't change next week.
Why would that be so? The theme doesn't change next week.
This my entry for this week, beware, it is a little crappy.
Scrooge once was a bad bad man.
Then some ghosts, they came up with a plan.
To change his ways,
Before Christmas day.
Required the help of three.
Who would mess with his sanity.
They took him to his past,
To behold what he has amassed.
In evil and not good,
Then present took him to the hood.
Finally, visited by fore-coming,
He never did a single thing,
But he had quite a ding.
A single thing he never did meanly,
The little boy who was feeling greenly,
Became better because the ghosts taught scrooge a lesson on being good,
and Scrooge finally understood.
That being nice,
And staying off the ice,
Will land him in the land,
where everything is grand.
That's it.
Oh he was dead, dead, dead as a door-nail;
My right hand cut off, and brought back in chains,
He warned me so thorough, thriving in pain,
"Three ghosts will visit, heed their honest tale".
In the rush of the night, the concealed wails
sprung forthwith to show, morality's cane,
a lurid model, purgatory's plane.
My success was a veritable fail.
At first, I had a glimpse into my past.
Nostalgia plagued my ever-live senses,
Then visited my clerk, seeking their grace,
after that, theft, death, my own gravestone last.
I awoke, slipping down stairs of staunch pence
to spread Christmas cheer, prior not a trace.
Saved
The voices wail across the gloomy sky
A bitter sob wracks the King on His throne
"What had gone wrong?" He asks
As the temples fall
The Righteous are now the evil-doers
Cast down from society
It appears there has been a Great Awakening
But have they truly left their dreams?
What happened to the gifts?
The shining Christmas trees?
The Lord was born to us this day
Yet all I hear are tears
I see the sound
I hear the faces
I feel smells
I touch the tastes
The sky is an acrid brown
This Holy Day is in ruins
For the bringers of death have ruined it
Them and their paths of greed
Humanity was better than this
A new hope was promised unto them
And how do they use it?
By only looking after themselves
No longer does the orphan cry
As without food he dies
No longer does the widow want
For she is thrown from their midst
A single coin, the beggar asks
But instead is given insults and beatings
This world is cruel indeed
To those who have had misfortune
But wait! A single cry!
A voice who knows what's right
His head alight with a wreath of light
The Great Moshiach-our Savior-is here
He goes by many names
Elijah, Jesus, David
They all mean the same
The misfortunate will get justice
No longer does the orphan cry
For he has food to fill his stomach
No longer does the widow want
For she has companionship in her time of need
A Great Sorrow has passed
The Future is bright
A Merry Christmas to all
And to all a Good Night
Enjoy! This is my first time writing a piece from a Christian standpoint, so I hope I did a good job!
"Repent! Repent! for death be soon upon ye!
Thine wicked ways now lead ye down this
path of sure destruction!"
An ominous spirt cloaked in black called
to me this eerie message.
A harbinger of mine own death? Bah!
What foolishness to believe.
But once again came a ghostly thing,
to warn me of my awful fate.
Pfft! Another tail of misery of my life!
Suddenly, I'm whisked away, to a place
of a certain familiarity; 'tis my home
but now in shamble and ruin.
'Tis not my future, is it?
I'm whisked yet once more;
the old graveyard, dark and despairing.
But one grave bears all my attention.
I turn to see...
Mine own name.
I awake, as if from some foul nightmare,
at mourn it seems to be. But this dream it stays.
A young lad knocks at the door,
the poor soul looks as if starving.
A change in me compels me;
I yell down to the child, "think fast"
and drop down a bag, filled with coins.
It seems this old Scrooge's
life is now changed.
The Ballad of the Beggar
A lonely coin lives in my cup;
Rags lie upon my head.
No food nor drink have I to sup,
And stones make up my bed.
You meant not to stroll on this street,
But now you're here, indeed.
You quickly move your booted-feet,
And ignore those who plead.
My voice pines like a dieing flute,
But you hear not my call.
I see all of the destitute,
But you see none at all.
Now hark! And hear the orphan cry!
Hear how the widow weeps!
Do not ignore the poor who die
Alone within their sleep!
I do not mean to make a fuss,
But shackles bow your head!
For Scrooge dwells within all of us,
And all of us are dead.
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