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!
Oh. my bad. i didnt count the syllables. i was looking at the terza rima thread b4 this and saw that you had the whole aba style and typed that. XD Sorry!
Sitting on the oceans shore, Wondering about it is never a bore. Will it be calm, With repetitive waves? Or will it storm , Because it is in a rage?
I go out to the ocean for a swim Even though it is only on the rim. And as I try to take a look, To see if the creatures are like what's in the book, A get a really big surprise, OMFG I GOT SALT IN MY EYES!
I turn around to head to back to land. So I can lie down on the warm, soft, sand. But then I feel something nibbling on my back. I flip over, See a fish, WTF I'M NOT A SNACK!
I finally reached my destination, And my short little swim left me in frustration But I think back on why I was swimming I realize that it was because my questions were brimming. I won't blame the water for the time that I had It was my own curiosity that made me mad.
The Ocean is just a place Where all sorts of things live It has so much space And there is so much that it gives.
Okay. the end was kinda rushed. well, really rushed. Yes, it sucks. And I don't think you can win twice in a row on here.... but whatever. I had fun with this one! Hope yall like it.
we don't NEED to do anything we choose to write this and I gotta admit the oceans amazing as they are can be difficult to describe, it's something you have to see.
Well, there would only be top 3 poems, because there are only 3 entries. and yes oceans are absolutley amazing. but you can put a big fat NO SWIMMING sign on the gulf of mexico now! Stupid oil spill! I can smell that when I walk outside to get to the bus now! and it hasn't even reached land yet! this summer is gonna be awful.
They stare at the blue sky, standing in the azure They wait for it to be obscured by a shadow In the refracted light, they wait for the future One where they will be more to enjoy the sorrow
They remember the shores; the last soil that they saw For they now are a part of the waves, of the tide They roll in and out too, in the hourglass they hide Waiting for a black spot to feed their growing awe
For the ocean it gives but also takes away The unsuspecting ones, they will wind up as prey A boat on the surface, a God is seen below They wait in reverence, they can't pray, they can't bow
Longing for sleep to come, will the hourglass be turned How many will it take for God to be burdened Time is measured by them, the sons of the waters Ghost towns in the ocean, villages of dreamers
The vocabulary wasn't all that impressive, but doing it all in alexandrine was quite a job already. Anyways I believe it is quite decent ^^. Good luck to all!
I finally found motivation to write in ballad meter, the alternation between iambic tetrameter and trimeter. It's quite dramatic, and I believe it suits the poem nicely.
The Old Man at the Wharf
Red lanterns, they have disappeared Behind the swirling mist. Now there was but blue regrets Of home that he now missed.
And sick was he, complexion green, No ginger now his stomach soothe. Wished he now that ocean waves Might pacify and smooth.
His babe was born in far Toisan Though he could never know. His wife died in delivery; Her husband had his woes.
A scraggly boat now paddled in To Golden Mountain's harbor. But riches here were naught to find For life here was much harder.
There were no mountains glittering Or riches one would think. But there was a land of racism: Of "Chinamen" and "chinks."
One hardened day of bitterness A letter came from home. He burnt it, and his tidal tears Now brimm'd like ocean foam.
But human spirit does not die Nor distant memory. And that is why that old man there Is crying to the sea.
Death from above I float on my back watching the sky above I feel the gentle waves taking me back and forth
I can smell the smoke and burning flesh. I still here the buzz of those nasty pests.
It's hard to believe I'm now alone. It was so sudden no time to drop prone
Now all is silent the planes went away. No more screams no more gunfire.
Only the ocean singing her gentle song I let her embrace me and I join my mates below.
hmmm...that was interesting You can feel the influence of Pearl Harbor in the poem... though it was unintentional maybe I need to write another...but 'till then...this has to do
