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!
Apologies one and all! Work is the devil I swear. However, fear not, I shall have all judging judged with suitable judgements hands out most judgedly as I am a judge of judgely quality! Tonight then dear, dear fellows!
Inuendo! A well constructedd poem, and a clever use of words. A nice touch with the references to historical duels of honor and what have you. Overall this work is a fine piece to read for some amusement with a solid rythm to it. Well done nicho.
2nd Place: Parsat
As always your work leaves me wishing I could break away from my love of T.S Eliot and other postmodernists and have a bit more structure to my substance. However, the poem was beautifully written. Didn't exactly thing of China when I read it though. Overall an excelent demonstation of theme and poetic structure.
1st Place and Winner: Uysername
Your poem was remarkably well written. The scope of your poem made me feel as if it were a mini-epic. There we hitches here and there, but nothing of major note for me. I was very much invested in your story that you weaved. An outstanding use of theme and various poetic devices. Please continue submitting in the future.
Now! On to other things! The next theme will be.... Writer's Choice! I have never run one of these rounds and I would like to very much.
Writer's Choice is simply a free for all without any given theme by the judge. Those entering my write about whatever they wish so good luck! Due date: Saturday September 8.
Note: The end of Writer's Choice his will be my last round as judge as laid down in the new rules about judge rotation. I have not heard anything definite from any other of the potential judges. Therefore, if you would like to judge please contact me. If I do not know you from of old please detail why you are qualified to judge. Should no one contact me I will continue judging.
Just this once, I think I will yet again play the medieval note, since it's worked so well for me.
I promise that next time I won't do anything middle ages-related ;.
Atonement
Thee thus deter thine righteous path Ammended, still, thine thoughts alaft And moping brash lest you seclude All that you once swore to elude. It's call to war; it's call to blood! T'shall lo and awe, thine path's asought And harken forth; thine trusted blade Shalt thrusted be in throat of knave; So shalt be dealt, asought demise To brigands, thought themselves more wise, Enrighted by them baseless strife, So are you sworn; ...to rob them of; ......their life.
And then said thief contending near: His eyes, a well of hopeless fear. You thrust your trusted sword within And commit murder on your kin. And charge for he's ungripped his sack, But naught but food came rolling back. Your eyes, a well of hopeless fear: The thief's children are also near, They sigh and cry and whine to thee, They want thine death, and you agree; For in thine quest for senseless crime Thou never asked thineself: but why?
Alas, another brigand close: His eyes deep red, his sword arose Him in a battle ready pose "Step back at once!" The brigand said "Or I'll be cutting down yer head!" And then you looked down upon thee And then looked front back up at he: A poverty stricken man of the land Who's bravely taking a ****ed last stand. "Go on, so, cut me to the bone 'Tis only then I may atone!" The thief stood back, confused, distraught, By thy sudden lamenting taunt. Alas, just then and there, you bow Expecting just the final blow...
It didn't come. You were alone. As both the thief and children gone. And seeing as your hate was nigh, You settled down, began to cry.
I have posted this poem before on the theme "map to perfection". i have revised and rewritten it a great deal, and now I think that it is ready for a second chance. some aspects are very subtle, such as the reference to candles in the ground. when someone dies, people often light a candle at the memorial and put it on the ground. as I was saying, subtle. watch out for those. but as was introduced, the moment you've all been waiting for, here's.... ________________________________________________________________ Juliet is Dead
paradise was hard fought then burned to a mound
heaven sank to hell candles in the ground they found
an angel with a voice the way of peace she taught
perfect light perfect shadow perfect sound
as dawn subsides to day perfection flew away
everything has demons devils in that way to betray
but some angel will be found
perfect light perfect shadow perfect sound
but in that short time she was the light itself
light without flaw but not without it inside herself
light without shadow is a song without a sound
perfect light perfect shadow perfect sound
perfection flew away as fringe subsides to fray
as the poison touched her lips perfect light, perfect kiss
If I could write the weariness I feel Into a blur of mishing-mashing lines, I could not hope to separate the real From floaters in my slowly fading eyes. My arms are weak, my muscles fully slack With profound numbness past that feeling point Where consciousness begins. In holding back No healing comes to brains spilled, out of joint. Though all my matter raves delirious, My mind is all the more imperious.
The ignited wood is in ignition Leading me to animation Although it has a conclusion Leading me to my inanimation and I discren that my animation Would be leading to my final destination This is how we describe animation In a few simple expression
