Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Periodic Poetry Contest - Theme: Touch of Truth (Page 390, due Jan. 28)

Woohoo, congrats Mav.

Anyhow, I should get time to work on something for this, let's hope I feel inspired enough to do so.

wow...was away again for a while :P I see that I managed to win the full moon round...and I know the rhythm was a bit off...English isn't my native.

but anyhow..might try to enter this round...if I get the inspiration...
and maybe I ask for that merit parsat mentioned someday...
just need to check out who is moderating here nowadays

Thanks! But did Gantic allow merits again? Or is this the reemergence of old habits?

my soul my bells

I was a soul born in a farm
A peaceful baby who meant no harm
Trying to make sense of the world around
The first thing I heard was the barn bells' sound

I grew in the garden with bells and plants
Learning how to farm from uncles and aunts
On my tenth Christmas I received a hoe
Along with some sleigh-bells and seeds of mistletoe

The sound of the bells
Gave me a feeling like no other
I was more attached to them
Than I was attached to my brother

I was so happy playing with the bell
Little did I know 'twas to be my death knell
A bull hit me when I was on the farm
Its horns had done me fatal harm

I was born on a farm with the sounds of bells
Now I die on a farm with the sounds of bells
When I rose and when I fell
You were always with me oh! Precious bell

by sanket dutta

Lately time has been hazy...

The clock just struck nine
Thine fingerâs entwined
Enclosing my palm,
A hand-written bombâ¦

Abruptly standing erect
Iâd forcefully pushed my chair
Back, back enough to run
Run so that wind caught my hair

Dashing to the streets
Moved quickly my feet(s?) :P
Zoomed by the bell that
Rang itâs 3rd chime pat

Almost didnât hear it, the
Reverberating soft hum.
Almost angelic although,
I was feeling like deathâs glum

Not having a rush
But it felt a must
To keep on thru chimes
Five, Six, Seven, Eightâ¦.

I never made it to Nine.
I was all out of my breath
Collapsing onto the ground
Now living teetering death

Cradling myself
I scream out for help
But droned out by nine
Left my note behind

Forever forgotten I
Will live in eternal bliss
But the finder of my note
Picked it up, read it as is:

âBorn by the bell
End itâs ringing swell
Or know you will find
Your time will be nine.â

When Eden Sank to Grief

"Has man always inhabited a world like the present, where nothing is linked together, where virtue is without genius, and genius without honor; where the love of order is confounded with a taste for oppression, and the holy rites of freedom with a contempt of law; where the light thrown by conscience on human actions is dim, and where nothing seems to be any longer forbidden or allowed, honorable or shameful, false or true?"

-Aleis de Toqueville

Listen, my children. Draw closer, come near.
For a tail of tragedy you shall now hear:
A fair maiden's death in our own little town;
Blindly struck down in her wedding night gown.

I remember that night, t'was some time ago
(But its exact date even I do not know),
When the the townspeople gathered, the old and the young,
Within our Cathedral to 'scape the harsh cold.

At the altar, alone, stood the new groom to be.
He was handsome and bright, a grand thing to see.
Gaily he stood, awaiting the time when his lover
Would enter with a smile, sanguine.

And thus sang the crowd:

"Oh! Fa la la la-la, come hither! Don't dally!
There's love to be had down here in the valley!"

Then the clock stuck nine, ten, eleven, and twelve.
The people grew restless, began to inquire and delve:
Could it be? She will leave him at the altar?
Could it be? That her resolve should now faulter?

Clambering o'er each other to get to the door,
Went the old and young, rich and poor.
Down the street they raced, to the father's house,
But all in the dwelling was quiet, as a mouse.

The groom sprang from the midst for all to see,
And cried "My love, my love! Have you abandoned me?"
The lights came on, and the door was opened,
To reveal the father, his soul clearly broken.

The crowd pressed on into the abode,
And such a human surge the groom then rode
Into the room where his lover lay,
She said "He is here! My killer, verily I say!"

Recoiling in shock all the people fled,
Leaving the young man alone with the dead.
And none were there as he sat, and weeped
For the maiden who must now eternally sleep.

And thus the crowd sang:

"Oh! La da da da-da, flee hither! Don't dally!
There's death to be seen down here in the valley!"

And the question on everyone's lips
Was 'Whocould be the one the evidence fit?'
The policemen were baffled, the dectectives were too,
It's quite safe to say, there was scarcely a clue.

But soon came the day, without any solace,
To put our lady away to gaze Our Father's face.
Their she lay all exposed, enshrouded in silk,
With innocence to guard against the worlds ilk.

And the people looked on, but soon looked away,
For their hearts strangely... Trembled that day.
They couldn't quite place it, couldn't quite name
Just what had happened to that fair, little dame.

Time did not quicken, it somehow slowed down,
As Heaven looked on to our small, gathered town.
But suddendly a figure then burst from the crowd:
The groom! Who leaped straight into the grave, and cried a-loud:

"Libertas is dead! And we, her killers!"

And thus the belfry sang:

"Oh! Fol dol dol-doly, cling to what is holy!"
Oh! Tra la la-lally, lest you feel your folly!"
__________
I mean for this to be read twice, the second time with the knowledge of the maiden's ide tity.

I'll probably end up revising this.

Bravo Mav!
Oh just a note for your original, you have a typo in the second line, tale, rather than tail.

When Eden Sank to Grief

"Has man always inhabited a world like the present, where nothing is linked together, where virtue is without genius, and genius without honor; where the love of order is confounded with a taste for oppression, and the holy rites of freedom with a contempt of law; where the light thrown by conscience on human actions is dim, and where nothing seems to be any longer forbidden or allowed, honorable or shameful, false or true?"

-Alexis de Toqueville

Listen, my children. Draw closer, come near.
For a tail of tragedy you shall now hear:
A fair maiden's death in our own little town;
Blindly struck down in her wedding night gown.

I remember that night, t'was some time ago
(But its exact date even I do not know),
When the the townspeople gathered, the young and the old,
To observe ancient rituals with eyes, so bold.

At the altar, alone, stood the new groom to be.
He was handsome and bright, a grand thing to see.
Gaily he stood there, awaiting the time,
When his lover would enter, a character sublime.

And thus sang the crowd:

"Oh! Fa la la la-la, come hither! Don't dally!
There's love to be had down here in the valley!"

Then the clock stuck nine, ten, eleven, and twelve.
The people grew restless, began to inquire and delve:
Could it be? That she will leave him at the altar?
Could it be? That her resolve should now faulter?

Clambering o'er each other to get to the door,
Went the old and the young, the rich and the poor.
Down the street they then raced, straight to the father's house,
But all in the dwelling was quiet, not a soul there did grouse.

The groom sprang from their midst, for all to see,
And cried "My love, my love! Have you abandoned me?"
Then the lights came on, and the door was opened,
To reveal the father, with his soul clearly broken.

The crowd surged forward, and pressed into the 'bode,
And the tide of this human surge the groom rode
Right into the room where his dear lover lay,
Just to hear her say: "He is here! My killer, verily I say!"

Recoiling in shock all the people fled,
Leaving the young man alone with the dead.
And none were there as he sat, and weeped
For the maiden who must now eternally sleep.

And thus the crowd sang:

"Oh! La da da da-da, flee hither! Don't dally!
There's death to be seen down here in the valley!"

And the question that arose everyone's lips
Was 'Who could be the one that the evidence fit?'
The policemen were baffled, the dectectives were too,
It's quite safe to say, there was scarcely a clue.

But soon came the day, without any solace,
To put our lady away who bore the pale face.
Their she lay all exposed, enshrouded in silk,
With innocence to guard against the world's ilk..

And the people looked on, but soon looked away,
For their hearts strangely... Trembled that day.
They couldn't quite place it, couldn't quite name
Just what had happened to that fair, little dame.

Time did not quicken, it somehow slowed down,
As Heaven looked on to our small, gathered town.
But suddendly a figure then burst from the crowd:
The groom! Who with his last, dying gasp, cried a-loud:

"Libertas is dead! And we, her killers!"

And thus the belfry sang:

"Oh! Fol dol dol-doly, cling to what is holy!"
Oh! Tra la la-lally, lest you feel your folly!"
__________
I mean for this to be read twice, the second time with the knowledge of the maiden's ide tity.

Still not thrilled with it, but it beats the alternative, which is nothing. Changed a lot of things all over the place: sentenct structure, vocabulary, and fixed some of the more glaring errors.

The Belle

The bells, they knell, as willow leaves fell,
The change, how strange, within autumn's range.
The pennies, so plenty, to well went some twenty,
So went he, to Jenny, less twenty as many.
The bells, they quell, the vernal bird's yell,
The range, its change, to new ears how strange.
How plenty, some twenty, from well went some pennies,
So went she, to Kenny, with twenty as many.
The bells, they tell, of winter's cold spell.
How strange the range before season's change.
Some twenty for pennies with wellness was plenty,
So went he, to Penny, some twenty as many.
The bells they knell for past summer's belle,
The change, how strange, within an ear's range.
With pennies aplenty so went she from twenty,
From Benny, from Denny, from twenty as many.

/classicGanticrhyming.

Bonus joke stanza I originally wrote:
The bells, they swell, where merits may dwell,
The change, how strange, across autumn's range.
A carrot, a parrot, and even a ferret,
Inherit a merit, perhaps if I care it.

Changes are coming.

Haha, so I take it this is a merit contest again? Glad to see Gantic the ol' rhymebender come out of the woodwork.

With such as the rhymes and woes of Gantic and Maverick... I stand no chance xD

@Parsat Not quite.

@PureTrouble Why? I wrote it in ~20-30 minutes with limited editing, and that's just editing to limit the number of nonsensical lines while maximizing assonance, consonance, and alliteration and maintaining meter. Hear the assonance, consonance, and alliteration in Poe! Seriously, you'll never look at Poe the same.

Here's mine.


Judgement Day

I heared the Eternal Bell's sing.

On the brink of Hell,
on the edges of Heaven,
in the black devious Stigyan,
I listened.

The ****ed shouted.
Cried.
Cursed.

The blessed singed.
Celebrated.
Condemned.

Cristalline. Pure. It begins. The Eternal Bell's singin'.

To the left, only black.
Madness.
Evil.
Fire.

To the right, only white.
Purity.
Good.
Ice.

I see it. Almost material. The sound is spreading.

Charon is rowing.
Indifferent.
Unhopeful.
Eternal.

He hears the bell. He changes.
Interessato.
Hopeful.
Ending.

Souls are swarming. Like flies. Like water. Like leafs.

Where will I go?
Hell?
Paradise?
Purgatory?

Only that bell knows...

---------------

I done this without checking anything. Runned low on time.

The ****ed shouted.
Cried.
Cursed.

From the context, I assume it's dam*ed? The link just leads to a page stating that "***" is not in the English language.