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!
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Newest composer is in town,
He starts playing the violin,
Everyone faces turn into a frown
Horrible music,
loud screehing noises I hear,
Who listens to this?
Everybody was sad,
pulling out tomatoes,
even my friend chad.
he got pounded,
with tomatoes
splat,splat,splat was sounded.
He left in a swift,
went to a different town
and the same thing happened.
my first Looooooonnnnngggg poem COMMENT
Craaaaaaaapish. I was totally planning on getting this in by deadline... Looks like that's a little late. I suppose that unless the deadline is magically extended (which it looks like it doesn't need to be), I shall wait for the next round. Good luck poets!
And I actually had some scraps written to enter this round.... T_T I'm too late.
Basically the same thing that Jeol said. I look forward to seeing the judging.
Deadline will be the 21st of February, or whenever there are sufficient entries. Or whichever comes first.
Guys, read! It's not called the Ten Day Poetry Contest for a reason!
Submit submit submit! I implore both of you and anyone else!
Yeah... When did that happen?
When I grew tired of judging only a few poems.
It's alright, do so only at your own pace. Forced poems defeat the purpose of writing.
Dirge
The instrument has been prepared,
Prepared to play a tune.
And I'm afraid I shan't be spared;
My end can't come too soon.
Through all this hell and misery
I bravely struggled on.
But now I'll finally be set free,
Admidst the new-day's dawn.
The voice is readied now, to sing.
Over me, it's words shall pour!
Soon now from this life I'll spring,
Amid Cherebum, galore!
I turn slowly to face the West,
And press the barrel to my breast.
Dirge
The instrument has been prepared,
Prepared to play a tune.
And I'm afraid I shan't be spared;
My end can't come too soon.
Through all this hell and misery
I bravely struggled on.
Adrift amid the troubled seas;
A stain upon the dawn.
The voice is readied now, to sing.
O'er me, it's words shall pour!
Soon now from this life I'll spring,
Midst Cherebum, galore!
I turn slowly to face the West,
And press the barrel to my breast.
__________
Please judge this version, thanks.
Jeol, you sneaky bugger with the acronyms!
And alright Mav, noted.
Newest composer is in town,
He starts playing the violin,
Everyone faces turn into a frown
Horrible music,
loud screehing noises I hear,
Who listens to this?
Everybody was sad,
pulling out tomatoes,
even my friend chad.
he got pounded,
with tomatoes
splat,splat,splat was sounded.
He left in a swift,
went to a different town
and the same thing happened.
Comment please.
Oh man, Nicho.
There are like four different poems I could write for this. But I think I'll stick with two for now, and choose one by...two days. One day?
They are both pretty long.
So here is Version 1:
It's almost too simple
To set it all in motion.
The push of a button,
Unfurling the tangled headphones,
Or the click of a laptop
As the DJ warms up his playlist.
It doesn't take much to be overcome,
For music is a drug
Stronger than any other.
The beat resounds with my heart,
Thrumming.
I can feel the vibrations through the floor,
And I wonder if it is only me,
Only me that is swept away by the pulsing flood.
The bass and melody,
They are my bones and muscles,
And they pull me to and fro,
Free from my conscious constraint,
Free from my overbearing mind.
There is no need to think with structure;
The music has its own rhythm to keep,
And it cares little for petty thoughts.
The voice, the melody,
I find become my own,
And it becomes raw with passion.
If there are no words to be sung
It does not matter,
For even a violin's singular song
Has a meaning.
Even my very principles
Cannot be weighted down,
For who can immerse themselves in music
And not find themselves breathing in time,
Breathing with the musician
Who poured himself into creating his song?
But paradise is always temporary.
As the tide ebbs and weakens,
I am forced back to dry land.
And I wait again for the flood.
Version 2:
Please listen to my tale,
The piano says,
Weeping dark tears onto parchment.
Though it is not mine,
It can be yours to share.
I sit at his ebony lap
And hold out my hands to calm him,
His ivory skin cold to the touch.
My fingers flutter with his breath
As he begins to speak.
He first tells of shapes,
So solemnly, so gravely.
It is a tone that I cannot understand.
His words are meaningless.
I apologize and leave him be.
But his tears still lay exposed,
His story untold.
Once again the behemoth draws me in,
And once again I sit, feet propped,
Ready to be overwhelmed.
Time passes,
Though for him much slower than I.
The sadness starts to settle
And I can feel the ache,
Nesting inside my heart.
Though I do not know who it belongs to,
I know the tale must be told,
Retold, again and again.
But I cannot perform the task yet
And it sits heavy inside, waiting.
Finally I sit, eons past, ready to speak.
A auburn piano now,
Shiny under the golden lights,
Small against the rippling crowd.
She lies close to my shaking fingers.
Please, I say.
Help me tell his tale.
Please, I ask the crowd.
Understand this sadness,
Understand this sorrow.
Be agitated, because it is so.
Feel your heart aching as mine is.
Though I am an inadequate orator,
And though I have not the strength,
I will try my best to move this sea.
Thus the tale is retold.
I return to comfort,
Hands and heart hurting with joy.
And the dark figure sits,
Weeping with all the more to tell.
Sorry, need to change one thing, arg.
Please listen to my tale,
The piano says,
Weeping dark tears onto parchment.
Though it is not mine,
It can be yours to share.
I sit at his ebony lap
And hold out my hands to calm him,
His ivory skin cold to the touch.
My fingers flutter with his breath
As he begins to speak.
He first tells of shapes,
So solemnly, so gravely.
It is a tone that I cannot understand.
His words are meaningless.
I apologize and leave him be.
But his tears still lay exposed,
His story untold.
Once again the behemoth draws me in,
And once again I sit, feet propped,
Ready to be overwhelmed.
Time passes,
Though for him much slower than I.
The sadness starts to settle
And I can feel the ache,
Nesting inside my heart.
Though I do not know who it belongs to,
I know the tale must be told,
Retold, again and again.
But I cannot perform the task yet
And it sits heavy inside, waiting.
Eons pass and I sit, finally ready to speak.
A auburn piano waits now,
Shiny under the golden lights,
Small against the rippling crowd.
She lies close to my shaking fingers.
Please, I say.
Help me tell his tale.
Please, I plead the crowd.
Understand this sadness,
Understand this sorrow.
Be agitated, because it is so.
Feel your heart aching as mine is.
Though I am an inadequate orator,
And though I have not the strength,
I will try my best to move this sea.
Thus the tale is retold.
I return to comfort,
Hands and heart hurting with joy.
And the dark figure waits for me,
Weeping with all the more to tell.
Well, here's my on-the-spot submission. *epic 80's-90's*
The music starts, I feel the beat
In my heart, I feel the passion, baby
My body starts to move, I can't control it
I start to shake, sway, like a puppet
My heels click from side to side
I do a spin, then my hands collide
I slide from one tile to another
I can't stop myself, I can't control it
I move from foot to foot, like a puppet, baby
Rollin' with the punches, baby
Rockin' with the roll
Caterpiller, like a wave
I can't stop myself, baby
I just can't control it
I start to sweat now, baby
Now the crowd is watchin'
I do a liddle spin, baby
There is no "I" in dance
I do it for the crowd
The music is gettin' loud
I gotta chain-link my heels
My heart starts beatin' hard
It breaks to the beat
Then the beat stops beatin', baby
Now my heart stops beatin'
I come back down from space
Back to earth, such a slow pace
-------------------------------
You wanted music, you got the music. :P
Tell me whatcha think xD
aw seems submissions are closed now oh well, I'll post one next round
Thread is locked!