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!
It could be a ghost. It could also be a stalker. It could even be a spider hiding a corner. Interpret it however you want to. Personally, I thought of a stalker when I wrote it.
Oh wait, dealine's March 12!? I thought it was still a weekly contest, my bad everyone. In any case though, it's still been a while since we've heard of good old Parsat.
Indeed it has. And we need the title changed too hmm. I'll have to look into that I guess. I seem to be the ad hoc judge for the time being, so I guess I'll refrain from entering unless I hear otherwise. Also, I promise to do a better run down this time, you know, since I'm no longer doing it the night before a morning flight to cuba.
Apologies for my continued absence. In light of my decreased activity, I don't want to hinder the poetry contest any more than I already have. I want to turn over the judging mantle to wolf1991, who has demonstrated himself as an excellent poet and a good critic.
The reason is mostly twofold. One, I'm fairly busy right now IRL...school and preparing to be a short-term missionary over the summer saps the critical mind, though it does increase my poetic mind. That leads to number two, which is that I'd like to focus on writing more poetry and teaching others to improve their poetry. Would I take on judging in the future? From my past two stints, I'd only trust myself as guest or emergency judge, and not to do it consistently.
It's about time we had some fresh blood here. Carry on, wolf. Although, as some advice, I do suggest that you find a trustworthy person to fill in for you when you yourself are busy.
TL;DR: I still love poetry, but I'd like to change from being a critic to being a poet again.
It's about time we had some fresh blood here. Carry on, wolf. Although, as some advice, I do suggest that you find a trustworthy person to fill in for you when you yourself are busy.
Peekaboo, I see you. Everything you do, it's true. But little me, you cannot see, Where could I be? Mystery!
I watch you sleep, so very deep, Until the clock goes beep. You look to the sky with tired eyes, A heavy sigh as you arise. So nice.
As you get dressed, I feel blessed, So glad to be your hidden guest. As you leave, you leave me behind, One thought in my mind; I wonder what I'll find!
I'm a sucker for simplcity that leaves things open to interpretation. To be honest I was reminded of the Tell Tale Heart, buy Edgar Allen Poe. The flow is precise and clean, while the diction remains simple, yet regardless it provides an indepth view of the mind of the victim, and a rather dark bit of humour. Well done.
2nd Place: Thisisnotanalt
On days like this, I truly wish that I could learn to fly. Just take a dive, And realize - I'm gliding through the sky.
But here I am, trap'd on the ground, Glass ceiling sparkling through. and I look up, And see it there . . . . And simply call "untrue".
I see the truth, and call me bless'd, that if none were to see; If I believed, it could be true - in my reality.
I longed to hear The sweet, sweet song of my denial's note. But shadow cast its lurid cape - and so I ne'er awoke.
This dream of lies I lust to live is loving, fooling me, Though it is fine! for in my haste, no-one had chance to see.
This was quite the piece to read. I have read some of your other work and I agree that this was fairly atypical coming from you. I admire the fact you managed to more or less hold yourself to the fixed form you set for yourself. The character in this poem was well developed and the theme of being trapped was well developed. It took me a few rereads to fully understand how this fit the theme of Witness, but in the end I realized the character was witnessing the world they could not be a part of. A solid pieece of work for sure.
1st and Merit: FallenSky
Watcher
A chill on a mirror A spark in a paper Brazen, tempting terror You can't, won't deny her
Her skin, it will entice Like bright and charming fire; A slick, fatal mantis With a lustful attire
However hard she shoves You wait and bite you cheek Not matter where she roves You try, you cry, you're meek
But comes a time for her When high becomes as dry She falls, torn asunder What's left for her to try?
If not to lose her life; Escape the debts, the shame You gave to her the knife In which you saw the blame
You could not help but stare Like always you did then Powerless yet aware Of her, brash and beaten
Leaking on the carpet; Losing the resolve that Once shimmered like sunset She is no more so what?
You watched, and watched, and watched Until her very end Alas never you tried; Too many scars to mend
Masterfully done. Congratulations, this is perhaps one the best pieces I have seen from you. The theme was perfectly rendered in this poem and it speaks volumes on several different levels. On one hand you have the narrator, and yet, despite the narration you can glimpse the other two characters' perspectives as well. This lends a depth to the poem that emotionally drives home the point. It was interesting to note that the character who was the witness to the other's downfall did nothing but watch. However, what else does a witness do except watch and either cannot, or will not act? Very much deserved.
LOL. Do you still judge the haiku contest? If so, don't be greedy.
I'm not; Enter's back on that duty, and that's precisely why I was offering my help. As for the results, thanks a lot for that critic Wolf, I too had the feel I had somehow nailed something when I wrote that. I'm glad to see you liked it. Congratulations to everyone, Ima go bug MR right now if you'll excuse me.
Basketball Winning: He walks onto the court, with confidence fallen short. He missed the shot, that he was taught. The one he practiced day and day, was missed in late May. He took a deep breath and looked at the clock, he was in great shock. He thought about his wife, sitting in the stands, screaming, jumping clapping her hands. He ran back to the game, admiring his fame. The ball was thrown in, dribbled and passed for the win. He grabbed the ball with 4 seconds, with a screen he beckoned. He ran past his defender with a grin, and took a shot for the win. It bounced on the rim to the left, to the right, then it dropped in, what a sight.
