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
Down deep to the cold, dark and foreboding depths of the ocean;
Where few if any creatures dwell,
except for the tiny amoebae in their isolation.
Waiting patiently for the earth to make up its mind;
At just the right time,
to slowly, quietly, almost gently open a door,
On the ocean floor.
Some time later, it begins with the earth giving a deep sigh,
causing an exciting convulsion;
Exciting because you see the earth,
wants to give birth.
To what, you might ask?
Oh, but not yet, not time yet to share its gift.
This gift will be a wonderful surprise for you that,
at first seems too simplistic.
This gift may wait a million years to take shape,
and grow into something majestic.
So, have patience and rest a while longer but,
not too long for this birth can be quite a disruption;
As it takes shape and grows taller and wider, rocks will tumble.
When rocks tumble the earth starts rumbling,
Making it sound as if the ocean's grumbling.
All the while, slowly, gracefully the gift takes shape;
It grows taller, wider until one day the waves,
no longer conceal its landscape.
The day we've been waiting for,
the birthday of a mountain, resplendent!
Not at first, for now it seems merely a platitude,
later to be covered with new life, lush and tropic.
Perhaps 40 thousand years or more, depending on latitude,
and longitude for the gifts magnitude,
To become fully realized as scenic.
Now the mountain's surface is abundant;
Resplendent with vibrant colors of choice flowers and fruit.
The Mountain is ready for a name,such as a man names his suit his, Sunday, wool or brown.
This mountain could grow up to be an island grand or repugnant.
Just like a string of pearls,each more beautiful than the first,
or in desolation.
All alone, small, not even a bay or a town.
That is a really long poem o.o I think you just took the small chance that I had at actually placing, wajor....
How exactly do they judge and who?
Alt judges, and it judges like everything else that involves judging. First, second, third, fourth, and so on.
Guys, the deadline was just yesterday.
Don't skin yourselves yet, lol. I'll have the judging done in about 10 or 15 minutes.
Top three and one runner-up pour le contest, oh hoh hoh. Also, sorry if I miss a capitalization or something . . . pSX(sephiroth isn't going to stop himself!) is totally raping my shift keys.
The runner-up, so close to being in the top three . . . orion.
Execution of nature,
Destruction of Earth,
Diabolical rupture,
Gives mountains birth.
Ending of the world,
Soon to have the world fall apart,
The crust swirled,
Creation of Earth's heart.
Masterful creation,
Life of deathly sorrow,
Flat lands ****ation,
Worldly difference on the morrow.
Millions of years in a day,
Creates the monolithic structure,
Even mountains shall not stay,
Death of infrastructure.
Lively creation,
Birth of life,
Inspire admiration,
Killing strife.
The first stanza is absolute gold. give me a whole poem of that quality, and it'd be second or first. The flow, rhyme, and mood are great. The second stanza, however, messes it up some. The first line feels short in retrospect to the second, and the double usage of 'world' causes a hiccup. The third line is short again, while the third is back on track. The third stanza is also good, and the rest of the poem evens out a bit. It's a bit off-the-wall, like wajor's, but the flow of a lot of it just feels awkward, and not really in a good way. you have mood totally down, though. Apocalypse was on my computer screen for a while as I read it. I had a tough time choosing between you and moonfairy for 3rd place, to b honest.
Third place, we have a short and sweet poem by the one and only lunar pixie that ever comes by AG . . . Moonfairy!
Where the sky reaches the land
Higher and higher
Touch God's hand
An overwhelming desire
To reach the peak
At peace with the life
No more answers to seek
No more strife
For me
Just live
And be free.
I'm a sucker for the rhyme scheme you have, I'll admit it. I like how you beat arond the bush with the poem, never really mentioning a mountain but describing it in such a down-to-earth (how PUNishing) way. The last three lines I end up reading as one because they're all so short.
Second place, with an acrobatically verbose work . . . wajor!
Down deep to the cold, dark and foreboding depths of the ocean;
Where few if any creatures dwell,
except for the tiny amoebae in their isolation.
Waiting patiently for the earth to make up its mind;
At just the right time,
to slowly, quietly, almost gently open a door,
On the ocean floor.
Some time later, it begins with the earth giving a deep sigh,
causing an exciting convulsion;
Exciting because you see the earth,
wants to give birth.
To what, you might ask?
Oh, but not yet, not time yet to share its gift.
This gift will be a wonderful surprise for you that,
at first seems too simplistic.
This gift may wait a million years to take shape,
and grow into something majestic.
So, have patience and rest a while longer but,
not too long for this birth can be quite a disruption;
As it takes shape and grows taller and wider, rocks will tumble.
When rocks tumble the earth starts rumbling,
Making it sound as if the ocean's grumbling.
All the while, slowly, gracefully the gift takes shape;
It grows taller, wider until one day the waves,
no longer conceal its landscape.
The day we've been waiting for,
the birthday of a mountain, resplendent!
Not at first, for now it seems merely a platitude,
later to be covered with new life, lush and tropic.
Perhaps 40 thousand years or more, depending on latitude,
and longitude for the gifts magnitude,
To become fully realized as scenic.
Now the mountain's surface is abundant;
Resplendent with vibrant colors of choice flowers and fruit.
The Mountain is ready for a name,such as a man names his suit his, Sunday, wool or brown.
This mountain could grow up to be an island grand or repugnant.
Just like a string of pearls,each more beautiful than the first,
or in desolation.
All alone, small, not even a bay or a town.
I think c/ping this doubled the length of my post, lol. Anyway, I have to respect that you can maintain good flow throughout most of the poem when its so verbose - most of the poem is very well-balanced. The 4th and 5th lines in stanza 3 seem slightly short when read as two separate lines. Also, the rhyming hiccups a bit on the word 'resplendent' in stanza 6; while this reads as intentional, I'm expecting another rhyme, and it catches me short a little each time I read it. But still, I heavily admire the effort you took in balancing outthe flow of the poem with all the words you used, and the elegance of your vocabulary adds a lot for me.
Who could top wajor with the 1st place prize? Do you know? no, so I'll tell you! It's one of everybody's two favorite debating canines featured inthe WEPR, wolf!
Amid all this wonder
I am but the lonely traveller.
A walker of twisting paths that lead ever on.
Past the roof of the world
Where there are no clouds
To hide me from the eyes of the sun.
Where the wind bites me,
And strips me to the barest parts of me.
Where snow ever gleams
Like pure diamonds.
And far off you can hear the silence.
You can hear the silence
And it is here that I climb,
To escape.
Here, to the roof of the world.
I fixed up the typos and the homonyms for you. This poem has a feeling of warm, comforting solitude that really gets the heart of the theme. You really captured the spirit and essence of a Tibetan mountain. The poem really unfolds near the end, touching on the emphasis of hearing the silence, the escapism of such majestic altitude. The poem isn't without its problems - you overuse the word 'me' in the middle of the poem, for example, and you like the word 'ever' quite a bit - but the flow of the poem, which is good even written in free verse, along with the embodiment of the theme, earn it first place. Get yer merit.
New theme is Strings. This is another thinker like the temperature one, so I'll give you two weeks for it. Deadline is August 1st.
Deadline is August 1st.
D:
That's over a month!
Hm, as for my poem . . . I tend to do that a lot. One part is good, and the rest is so-so.
I've got a while for this next one, so I'll try not to disappoint.
I'm definitely making my come back on this theme guys, just you wait.
I've been busy with my own poetry thread and my moving out, but I swear I'll submit something...delicious!
Plus the deadline is far away, which gives me time to build something consistent. I need it since traducing is a hard job at times -__-.
I fixed up the typos and the homonyms for you. This poem has a feeling of warm, comforting solitude that really gets the heart of the theme. You really captured the spirit and essence of a Tibetan mountain. The poem really unfolds near the end, touching on the emphasis of hearing the silence, the escapism of such majestic altitude. The poem isn't without its problems - you overuse the word 'me' in the middle of the poem, for example, and you like the word 'ever' quite a bit - but the flow of the poem, which is good even written in free verse, along with the embodiment of the theme, earn it first place. Get yer merit.
Thanks for that. The use of me was intentional, the word "ever" was simply overlooked on my part. I'm glad you enjoyed it, to be honest I didn't think I was going to top Wajor. Strings eh? Well I know I can't win twice in a row, but I'm deffinately submitting something. Thanks again.
Erp, I mean July 1st, not August 1st. Thank you on that Orion!
Congratulations Wolf!
That's better Alt, July 1 and "strings".
Hey guys, I'm just having fun and poetry was never my strong suit. I wish everyone the best of luck.
Strings
Hey, there's your strings.
May I pluck them?
We did many things,
Now I'm left and sullen.
I played your strings back and forth,
You played mine all day and night.
But now my strings snap and contort,
My strings fly away like a kite.
My strings were once in tune with yours,
Landing on the same old shores.
But they had the weakened cores,
Tattered walls, collapsed floors.
So now we set our sails again,
Say that "We can still be friends,"
Get rid of all the loose ends,
Power down, cover the lens.
Make our way through different field,
I sigh and scream and weep and kneel,
Lurk the shadows like an eel,
Get rid of all that I can feel.
My rhymes begin to tremble and cease,
You took of my heart a giant piece,
Feelings find their holes and heaps,
My love is now on New Lease.
________
I don't really care if it trailed out of the theme, I just wanted to get those feelings out. Had a breakup via text earlier...
Puppet
Tangled and twisted,
I've been short listed
For the life of doll.
And that is what they call
Me. Who is nothing but a puppet...
I am on ropes
Bound with no hopes
Of ever escaping this fate.
The wood grinds with my gait
And I walk on by,
I walk on by.
Oh what a lonely soul am I...
Here are my ropes
There binding strings
That hurt and sting me so.
The rhyme is all gone
Goodbye and so long,
Oh wounded puppet am I
Thread is locked!