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!
- 3,868 Replies
the city that never sleeps (an original piece by TopRank_)
_________________________________________________________________________
where the city never sleeps, everything is alive
the sky falls, night falls, but the people still survive
more than survive, we thrive, in the city that never sleeps
where the dusk runs into dawn, and the dawn runs into day
nothing gold can stay, and we like it to stay that way
everything is a game, a game that can be played, played in the city that never sleeps
where tupac made his name, and fought with B.I.G's gang
rap isn't to blame for what happens every day
if your kid is acting up dont pin it on li'l wayne
things will always change, nothing ever stays the same
in the city that never sleeps. this concrete domain.
Wow, I placed? I even placed? That's odd. I didn't know that I was that much of a poet.
Well, thank you, Maverick.
I'll try again.
What exactly does concrete domains mean?
My entry
A life of Stone
This is the world I live in and the world I see.
Two things which are very different to me.
The world I live in is like a large house,
there are emotions that are not allowed,
there are words that are never spoken
and there are hearts made of cold stone.
The world I see is like a great castle,
life is treated like one terrible hassle,
life is lived on the edge with great haste,
and life is full of hearts broken and dazed.
Everything is held together by rock, by tradition,
just like the storms cannot tear down the stone house,
so is life, unbreakable, ongoing, without easy admission,
but neither are those passing allowed to browse,
for life takes what it will, gives what it will
therefore we die still, therefore we live still.
I hope this is okay. I did an aa rhyme scheme for the first two lines. An aabbccdd rhyme scheme for the next eight and an ababcc for the last six. I used assonance rhyme, if I am using the correct term. I hope I am.
I will have one on soon!
Might want to pester the mods for a title change....
Might want to pester the mods for a title change....
Because the mods are actually active. Har har har
Why did I have to come back to such an obscure theme? ._.
Concrete domains, pshhh.
Free verse? Free verse.
It might turn out a little psychotic. I wanted to make it longer, but oh well.
Her hands,
Crimson as a robin's breast,
Flutter against the icy wall.
The wall.
She presses up against it,
imagines green pastures,
a sky of sapphire and ivory,
metaphors heard from the skeletons at her feet.
Smooth and cold like bone,
Like Dante's Ninth Circle.
The wall.
She listens for whispers
Seeping through the cracks,
Breathless and eager.
Distorted images, nourishment.
Threads of sunlight to her tired ears.
"I told you."
The weary skeletons do not respond.
"I told you."
They crunch under her,
Broken memories.
The voices talk of bubblegum,
White chocolate shakes that froth,
Too much for one person to finish.
"None for you."
She waits.
It is dark inside the wall,
The underbelly of a beast.
"Stop smiling."
Her grin matches theirs.
"Stop smiling."
The skeletons know too much, yellowed shells.
The wall crumbles,
As walls are wont to do,
Shaking limbs of concrete.
"I told you."
Rusted are the hills and sky,
And the skeletons smile,
Lying in shallow graves.
"None for you."
"Stop smiling."
Credit to Schumpeter for the famous first line.
Globalisation
A perennial gale of creative destruction,
As astutely claimed by Schumpeter,
Heralding a redefition of foundations,
Brazenly he sallies forth, our trumpeter.
See the haughty French Connoisseur,
Sniff and quaff nouveau American liquor,
His plump oriental Turkish neighbour,
Plants a splendid Christmas douglas fir.
See the proud Chinese gentleman,
Quietly order a hamburger for his son,
Right behind the hunched British war veteran,
Chewing sagely on exotic herbal medicine.
See the spiffily dressed Iranian banker,
Sweating over his Russian grammar,
His friend the buoyant Mexican pastor,
Hums a pop song, tapping his fingers.
Wave away those parochial purists,
The world is not a rigid copper mould,
Checked by hysterical moralists,
Each lacking a sophisticated soul.
For culture embraces and not shuns,
Dynamic people bouncing off ideas,
Behold, it encompasses everyone,
Yes, even that insular deacon.
There is naught a single save haven,
An isolated community or mighty nation,
Concrete and staunch enough to withstand,
This evolving marvel's outstretched hands.
If Only
If only, If only,
There was no more pain or misery
No more racism, war, and poverty
The world would be a better place,
But it will not do, It has no place alongside Human Nature.
If only, If only,
We embraced nature once more
Enjoying the glorious beauty and prosperity
Breaking the chains of recklessness and pollution,
But we cannot, for we are stuck in these Concrete Domains.
The round is now closed. Judging will be up in the near future.
Third Place: TuxedoPenguin
If Only
If only, If only,
There was no more pain or misery
No more racism, war, and poverty
The world would be a better place,
But it will not do, It has no place alongside Human Nature.
If only, If only,
We embraced nature once more
Enjoying the glorious beauty and prosperity
Breaking the chains of recklessness and pollution,
But we cannot, for we are stuck in these Concrete Domains.
A take on the classic faults of man as they affect eachother and the world around. The lengthing of the stanzas seems to accentuate the growing force of the problems described. However I'm not fond of having half the lines rhyme with eachother, and then the other half not rhyming at all. But good job, and keep it up.
Second Place: Nichodemus
Globalisation
A perennial gale of creative destruction,
As astutely claimed by Schumpeter,
Heralding a redefition of foundations,
Brazenly he sallies forth, our trumpeter.
See the haughty French Connoisseur,
Sniff and quaff nouveau American liquor,
His plump oriental Turkish neighbour,
Plants a splendid Christmas douglas fir.
See the proud Chinese gentleman,
Quietly order a hamburger for his son,
Right behind the hunched British war veteran,
Chewing sagely on exotic herbal medicine.
See the spiffily dressed Iranian banker,
Sweating over his Russian grammar,
His friend the buoyant Mexican pastor,
Hums a pop song, tapping his fingers.
Wave away those parochial purists,
The world is not a rigid copper mould,
Checked by hysterical moralists,
Each lacking a sophisticated soul.
For culture embraces and not shuns,
Dynamic people bouncing off ideas,
Behold, it encompasses everyone,
Yes, even that insular deacon.
There is naught a single save haven,
An isolated community or mighty nation,
Concrete and staunch enough to withstand,
This evolving marvel's outstretched hands
Forgiving your grammar and spelling (tee hee), this is really a nice piece. The alternating rhyme scheme seems to offer a sort of yin and yang to the percieved structuralist tendencies of the stanzas, making for a charming read. The meter seems to be a bit off in some places, but this only detracts a minute value from the poem. Good job.
First Place: TackyCrazyTNT
Her hands,
Crimson as a robin's breast,
Flutter against the icy wall.
The wall.
She presses up against it,
imagines green pastures,
a sky of sapphire and ivory,
metaphors heard from the skeletons at her feet.
Smooth and cold like bone,
Like Dante's Ninth Circle.
The wall.
She listens for whispers
Seeping through the cracks,
Breathless and eager.
Distorted images, nourishment.
Threads of sunlight to her tired ears.
"I told you."
The weary skeletons do not respond.
"I told you."
They crunch under her,
Broken memories.
The voices talk of bubblegum,
White chocolate shakes that froth,
Too much for one person to finish.
"None for you."
She waits.
It is dark inside the wall,
The underbelly of a beast.
"Stop smiling."
Her grin matches theirs.
"Stop smiling."
The skeletons know too much, yellowed shells.
The wall crumbles,
As walls are wont to do,
Shaking limbs of concrete.
"I told you."
Rusted are the hills and sky,
And the skeletons smile,
Lying in shallow graves.
"None for you."
"Stop smiling."
What I like most about this poem is the way it presents the theme in multiple layers, if you will. First we are made aware of an immediate and physical 'concrete domain'; the wall infront of the speaker. Next the 'concrete domain' is torn down by the contradicting delusion of senses, by having visual cues affect auditory cues, etc. And finally, the 'concrete domains' of the mind are broken down by the subtle presense of insanity and the increasing vivacity of the skeletons. So congratulations, and please contact a moderator for your merit.
Good job and thanks to all those who participated, however few.
The new theme will be 'Map to Perfection', due whenever enough poems have been submitted to make a worthwhile judging pool, or a significant amount of time lapses.
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