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

goumas13: So you're saying that you'll be really famous decades after your death? LOL.

Good job judging, adrecka. It's not an easy job, especially for poetry, where interpretations are entirely subjective. So even though I might personally disagree with your judging, I don't see a reason to complain about it. Keep things to yourselves when they're not needed, people.

So you're saying that you'll be really famous decades after your death?

Ok sorry for the taking so long to come up with the next theme. I was trying to think of something more people could relate to and want to write about. So I was thinking (If this has been done before, please let me know and i will think of something different. I did check from page 23 to here but i may have missed it.) The theme is Fear.

And the cut off date for entries is June, 24. That give you gives a week and some.

Fear

Ordinarily life is glorious;
I emerge from fights victorious;
I'm not known to be notorious;
You may be thinking, "That's laborious."

But, I am afraid,
And you see, that word, afraid.
I am not so perfect,
I too have a defect.

Fear, crawling in the darkness.
Fear, now looking to infest.
Fear, soon you will be possessed.
Fear, not a way to protest?

Some say feel pain,
Hit me with a cane.
Others say do nothin',
That's the same as quittin'.

All I have to do is
Find out just what causes
All this fear..
All this fear..

"Will I ever get out!"
Into the void I shout.
Of this fear..
Of this fear..

Of death? of pain?
Of going insane?
What am I afraid of?
What am I afraid of?

I am not in danger,
Am I paranoid?
Am I just alone,
In this dark deep void?

That is simply something
I won't ever know.
Fear is an illusion
Not letting light show.

FYI: The italicized words are whispered, while the emboldened words are shouted. This poem I wrote more like a song, I know, but it's okay right?

Fear you say? I need to tweak a poem I have been writing to inject more fear.

I look into your eyes knowing I can't say a word,
you look straight past me like I'm one of the heard.
There are so many things I would like to say to you,
but the fear builds up; there is nothing I can do.

I stand at the cliff face, staring at the sea,
too scared to jump too scared to be me.
I fear myself and the children at school,
they hate me beacuse I'm not them, I'm not cool.

I'm silent I'm the quiet one, hidden away,
I'm invisible if they see me they'll make me pay.
Sitting at the back I dream their fate,
too fearful to do it, to show my hate.


I hope that is ok, sorry if it's not <hugs pillow>

Love your poem Pixie, has nice flow and high energy.

Well, If you dont like my judging i would be more then happy to let someone else judge.

Fear is so fun~

Now if only I had a poetic bone in my body. *has an autopsy*

nope, nada.

Oh come on the thoadthetoad, Everyone can write poetry (Not at all implies that everyone is good.) But everyone can. Its simple think of a song and write it down. That can be good poetry.

you wouldn't be upset.

Fear

It's intentions blood-soaked
forlorn, devoid of hope
no man or woman knows the reach of it's scope

it's a rotten denizen, untellably old
the warm ember that leaves you cold
the story we all know that remains untold

you need your senses, but they've deserted
every ounce of strength you have perverted
your mature psyche has been reverted

it's the man in the corner with the bloody knife
it's hesitant, pensive and pure strife
the gut-wrenching lurch that pervades your life

the feeling of falling and drowning on land
the feeling of can't when you already can
the feeling of sinking in quicksand

fear, the lurking shadow in the light
the indescribable shock and fright
against this foe, the strong have no might

the mark on everyone, the empty desolation
the living death that offers no reanimation
silently slow live cremation

as it raises the knife to pierce you
so it's being goes in, around and through
shrinking back, there's nothing to do. . . .

FEAR

Fear fear itself, because fear is bad as an ear.
Fear is a game, fear my mane, because I'm a lion.
Fear likes potatoes, and so do I, because fear likes it.

Fear

When I feel that I got to hide
Only to protect my pride
Nobody knows what I feel
When I see coming a wheel

I can't control myself
I run toward the bookshelf
But there is no safe place
A man approaches, has a scary face

He found me, there is no place to go
I remember what I've done years ago

I can't do nothing now
There is no tomorrow

The end has arrived
Everything has ended

Hmmmm what will the next theme be? If it's good I will submit poetry but as of right now fear isn't a good thing to write about at the moment.

and here we go

Feeling of life

What greater fear would a mother have,
than to outlive her child.
Or a fear of noble king,
to see a subject wild.

A fear of an elder folk,
is to be left alone.
And the fear of viking bold,
is to die at home.

Fear is the thing,
it makes you feel alive.
You feel it on your skin,
and all your hopes stand aside.

If you say you feel no fear,
so then you must be dead.
'cos all of us seek it dear,
and then hide under the bed.


Thank you thank you!
It might seem a bit random....but it's not!!

Because Valhalla is waaaaay better than Niflheim