We may use cookies to help customize your experience, including performing
analytics and serving ads.
Learn More
Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)
| 3877 | 1803822 |
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!
- 3,877 Replies
Ahh, I see...
Don't rush teh wolfeh. Sometimes he's a day late, but I don't think he's ever been more than that. (But I don't really know since I'm pretty new.)
Fake Paradise:
I stare across the valley, seeing the beauty of our world,
Where stories shall be unfurled.
It is the most simplest beauty
And yet it gets me all moody.
I rise to my feet,
Seeing where the sky and air meet,
I look around me,
At the beautiful sea,
And the warm golden sand,
When I see a hand.
I peek around the green plants
And the working ants,
I take one step
As I wept.
I know what I will see
For it shall be thee
Humans play on that golden sand
Ruining all what was beautiful land.
And so i cried,
For all the beauty that died,
Watching my tears fall off
And watching those humans scoff.
Psssssst....pssssttt....shaila....the submissions are closed....
After much delay I present to you your JUDGEMENT!
3rd Place: Tacky
The cool wind whispers
Chilled songs in my ears
And the ocean's dark waves
Flood their way to the piers.
Along the winding coast lie
Pearly flecks in the sea.
Floating atop
The waves breaking free.
Rising and falling
With the silver moon's strain,
Kissing the shore;
The tides' only restraint.
The sky dims to purple,
Chasing gold from the air,
And the sun dips below
The skyline laid bare.
I view this treasure alone,
Pondering the meaning of it,
Then I realize that the meaning
Doesn't matter one bit.
Quite a nice poem. It breaks away somewhat from your normal style, and it's a nice change. At times it doesn't flow perfectly, however, it isn't an overly large concern. Normally I would comment on diction, however, this is one time that simplicity speaks best.
2nd Place: EnterOrion
Border of Tears
In my heart exists a place,
It's a place I seldom grace,
It's will is magnetic,
Its existence diametric.
There lies a sea of blood,
There lies an ocean of tears,
The spout from my eyes, a flood,
The spout from my life, my fears.
A million miles and twenty days,
I shall not ever arrive,
I walk upon the burning rays,
To get there I must strive.
I weep upon the sullen stones,
Amongst my fellow's bones,
Intrinsic is the will to live,
Beneath the clouds I writhe.
I have come to this place,
On a vacation;
To win my own race,
To survive my nation.
A world of bones of obsidian,
Crossing the ghastly meridian,
Four hundred miles and an inch,
Spinning my soul's winch.
The veins that run of molten gold,
Have turned into rotten mold,
My mind has wandered somewhere cold,
To be destroyed ten thousand fold.
On my land I watch the sea,
And finally I feel free;
I gaze into what is my soul,
And I see what was a hole.
The repetition of sounds (can't remember the technical term) within the beginning of each new line gives the feeling of waves upon a shore. With that image in my mind this poem was at once beautiful and tragic. I also was impressed by your rhyme scheme which was perfectly done.
1st Place: Maverick4
My Tears Flow From Kokytos
Also entitled, The Old Man of Crete
Intro:
My tears flow from Kokytos;
Haides' river of lamentations.
My sorrows bequeth from Man's nature.
Eternal, I stand my vigil at the banks.
And through the march of and flow of time,
The cries of those who are cast here
Leap out and molest my ears,
Only adding to my sorrow that brings these tears.
Verse I: Caina
"Abel! It is I crouching at your door!
For am I not your Brother's keeper?
Alas, cursed to lie beneath the ground,
Enshrouded in my frost-white tomb."
"Your fury seven times have I come to know!
And yet, is it not true that I have done you no harm?
For cursed is the ground from which Cain worked,
Cold, hard, unforgiving; only misery sprouts here now."
Verse II: Antenora
"No respite shall you find at my people's house!
Nay, only a Panther Skin have they to offer the weary.
Only too willing am I to open the door to my enemies,
Despite the trouble they will pass on to my neighbor's house."
"For what is worth a moment's reprieve from this torment?
Not even a face that could launch Ten-Thousand Ships?
For even Ares would not save the d*mned whom the ice shackles,
Although the Shroud of Peace is absent from this hell."
Verse III: Ptolomea
"What amount of gold or silver could my freedom buy?
Better, how much does simple courage cost?
For what I perceived to be cunning and ingenuity,
Was only Eris, clad in a web of fine mist."
"How voluntarily I welcomed them into my home!
And voluntarily I slaughtered them as they dined!
Thus my betrayal is deemed a hundred-fold worse,
And I curse the day I came forth from my mother's womb!"
Verse IV: Judecca
"Frozen in my eyes lie my countless tears.
How I weep at my sin of my great betrayal!
For only I hold acclaim to the death of the Lord,
And have deserved this flaying from Satan's claws."
"For at the heart of Hell I dwell forever,
With Brutus and Cassius as my eternal friends.
And how Satan here will grind my bones,
His ears deaf to my cries, my pleas."
Coda:
And alone, I sit on my pedestal.
As eternity watches over them.
And Kokytos flows 9 times around,
Encircling this realm of Haides.
But who am I to ramble on?
As I dwell here on its icy shores.
And forever you shall find me here,
For my tears come from Kokytos.
I'm going to be honest, I had to google your poem just to be sure you didn't copy this. That crisis of faith aside this is, mildly speaking, incredible. The ebb and flow of the poem is a perfect reflection of the waves upon a shoreline. One that is jagged with cliffs and stone bluffs. The diction and structure is superb, and the steady rhythm makes this an enchanting read. I have nothing to say against this poem. It is definately more than merit worthy; I suggest publishing this.
The next theme is: Childhood Dreams
Deadline will be: May 19, 2011
Note: Please, for the sake of my sanity, do not use the theme as your title.
The repetition of sounds (can't remember the technical term)
That would be aliteration.
Sanity? You have sanity still?
Pshhhhhh I threw that useless thing out the window a few years back. LOOK AT ME NOW!
Childhood Dreams.... this will be a fun one.
*grabs paper and pen and starts scribbling*
I will post soon! As in... tomorrow... or the day after... Probably the day before submissions are closed.
When I saw 3rd place wasn't me (a dim hope anyway), I knew I didn't win anything else...
I'm going to have to turn TryHard mode on.
I'll enter soon enough.
I like how my name is the only one abbreviated. Lolz. XD
This theme is excellente. I might attempt to put time into this one, rather than just last ditch effort.
GOGOGOGOGO UBERTACKY MODE!
I need to lay off the sugar.
I need to lay off the sugar.
Just a bit...
After stalking poetry on here you may see me later...
To young to dream of love.
We were children in those days
And to young to play,
Some would say,
The game of love, Hate,
And of course, heart break.
It was a crazy dream
So it would seem,
But I couldnât help but believe
We would find a way
To make it last everyday
But as summer leaves
Our heart grieves
Knowing we must move on
And soon all this will be gone.
I hate to admit it
But for your benefit,
Maybe we were too young
To dream of love.
...Quick attempt at this topic, haven't done it in a while, hope it fits the theme well enough.
The window shines its morning light
On bristle bones gnawed by time
The old man could not help but sleep
In the livingroom's wheelchair
In his soul are laid the traces
Of outspoken dreams, these breaths of youth
Wishes to grow before the time
Crossed fingers on some inches gained
The clawed body wakes in awe
With but enough force to fake a smile
Time is the best reminder
Of dreams already accomplished
He sits there from dawn to dusk
Not taking his pills today
He won't wake up tomorrow
To find his reached dreams again
Why didn't I enjoy the time
Where I could still hope ahead?
He thinks as he fades into nothing
As a young man's futile dream
Very quick submission; ten minutes to the most. Might work on something else if I'm too bored.
The time forgotten, I lay my sword,
Forged in the closet of the liar's word;
Slaying the tongue of the tempest soul,
Abandoned, iced by wool.
It took too many years, I've realized,
To my surprise, I must have died
By the word of God,
Surmised by hate, I'm a fraud.
I've finally reach an all time high,
Even if, to get here, I must have lied;
I understand that some words must be said,
If I didn't speak, I would be dead.
Penetrate the enemy of my lord,
To die right here for his hoard;
I'm a soldier of my heart,
The bitter end tastes so tart.
The day has come, forever wait,
Incarcerated hate;
I'll take them down, 'til I'm dead,
With my heart of lead.
They asked me once, straight and blank,
Would I die for land
To the man, of higher rank,
"You must be mad."
Five years on, he came around,
We met again;
The question struck, as was bound,
"I'd never die, for the hound,
I'd kill for men."
---------------------------------------------
Young boys often see, at least in my experience, a wanting of fighting for their country. In my circle of friends in elementary school, we would often dream of going into the Army or Marines. It's a dream still alive in me, perhaps it will be fulfilled. Just some background on the poem.
That light, the fire
The hope-giving-out dire
Extinguished, crushed
Good bye mother, father
I must live out
Grow from my naive pout
They all have strong doubt
Emerge from my c'hood help without
Gonna make it big
Find the great, must dig
For it I use the drill rig
Under this cold ground I'll find the great
They say I'll never do it
They say I'll fail it
They say I'll lose at it
I know it. It'll help me get it
----------------------------------
Basically it's talking about people doubting you throughout your childhood.
A child lies sleeping in bed
His eyes twitch-twitch under their lids
His fingers twitch-twitch round his head
Full of dreams and ambitions hid
So cleverly within
He dreams up a dream of college
Then just as quickly forgets it
He trades wealthiness for knowledge
Dreams of billions on which he sits
The possibilities!
Dreams of fame, actor or rock star
Dreams of doctor or architect
Dreams, oh dreams! Carry you so far
To drop you from the highest set
They cannot carry you
Imagining the paths to take
So many different choices
The roads to build, money to make
While listening to the voices
Ah! Suddenly, the boy awakes
He tries to stand but he cannot
Twitching turns to convulsing shakes
In this deadly trap he is caught
That hid so cleverly within
As he falls so hopelessly
All of the possibilities
Begin crashing down to the true
Falling, they cannot carry you
And everything becomes clear
This is no boy, this is a man
A man asleep and dreaming here
This is no man, but an old man
Old man asleep and dreaming here
Dreaming of childhood dreams
While listening to the voices
They said he could be anything
They said there were endless choices
But they've forgotten many things
Dreaming of childhood dreams
They forgot what dreaming will bring
When all that you do is to dream
Dreaming is only half the fight
The one you win by dreaming
The rest you win throughout your life
By being those dreams, not seeming
Old man, asleep and dreaming here
Wakes up to find his dreams all gone
As he wakes up, he falls asleep
A sleep so endless, dark, and deep
That he may never wake again
And he was dreaming, in the end.
Thread is locked!