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!
Sorry for the double post, but I also object to my execution on the grounds that nothing could possibly result from it. I would not be dead, I would not be banned from the site, and I also would not be banned from participating in the contest. The thought of an execution, no matter how metaphorical, is absurd, outrageous, and thoroughly unconscionable.
I request that my sentence be vacated, also for the reasons above.
No one is excecuting anyone. *takes gavel* That's mine, thank you.
Right, since I'm busy tonight and tomorrow you will have to wait until Tuesday. And yes you will have it posted tuesday. Why? because I have almost 12 hours worth of free time to accomplish things on Tuesdays.
Aww and we were having such fun with it too. You know that's not a bad idea, perhaps there would be a possibility of making a political RP thread/game.
Right, since I'm busy tonight and tomorrow you will have to wait until Tuesday. And yes you will have it posted tuesday. Why? because I have almost 12 hours worth of free time to accomplish things on Tuesdays.
Sweet! Now I can start warming up for the next topic!
>.> we can all blame my psychology articles that need to be read. I have the judging laid out, I just need to format it. I also need sleep. So I ask you for patience. Tomorrow afternoon for sure. If not send angry beavers at me.
O how the power flows, Stimulating command as it grows: Control that will limitlessly be imposed, Until its weakness is exposed.
O how the strength courses, From the depths of its sources; Allowing the use of tremendous forces, Before its user remorses.
O how the pain cuts deep, Like a shadow across a steppe: Hollow thoughts of sorrow begin to creep, Causing men of age to weap.
O how the sorrows loom, Embodied in a ghastly plume; Death comes invitingly like a sweet perfume: Leading leaders to their doom.
Your use of repetition lended a nice affect to this particular poem. However the flow and rhyme scheme need some work. The rhymes felt forced at times and the meter was broken at times making the poem sound awkward and clunky. Despite these things the story behind the poem is displayed well.
Silver: Kyouzou
Unwilling tool, pawn of fate Destiny not chosen, but decreed A conquest without victory
The call of prophecy, The mistake of a god, An inexorable meeting,
The day draws near. War is on the horizon, A cursed destiny calls.
Forged in the fires of conflict, Tempered by toil and suffering A hero must come forth.
Perhaps a gallant prince, Or a humble serving girl. They exist in all ways and forms
They set out for the fields of war, Leading an army of virtue Facing an impossible enemy.
This was a fantastic poem. The flow and short stanzas add a great intensity to the poem. The abrupt end leaves the reader hanging, yet in a good way. It draws a conclusion that while hinted at, is never confirmed.
Gold, Merit Winner: MoonFairy
Here is a tale We've come to weave, It's magnificent threads, You might misconceive. Try as I might, I can never tell it right, For this tale does tell, Of sorrows we will knell.
It all started with a prince and his stories, The lies he told could never be boring. He's slayed 5 dragons and killed 8 witches, Escaping by a hair but with all of their riches. But that money, was never seen, So the people, decided to convene. They asked the prince to show his treasure, And much to the people's displeasure, He ran away and never returned, Leaving his little brother a throne to earn.
Now his little brother was a mysterious thing, He had eyes jet black, and he wore a red ring. That ring, they say, gave him powers. A power where sorrows were soon to shower. He had an evil glint in those jet black eyes, Not one of mischief, they were much more wise. His eyes were comprised of plans for demise.
The prince's name brought fear to the people, Even I can't say it, if I wish to stay peaceful. If you hear his name whispered in the street, You must lock your doors and not utter a peep. His only mission is to bring destruction, And if you are present, you are an obstruction. He hates the people of his future kingdom, No one knows why, no one knows the reason.
One day the younger prince found his older brother, In a little shack in the outskirts of a kingdom of another. The brother had 3 kids and a charming young wife, But it was far from a happy reunion, it ended in strife. The young prince killed his brothers family, Leaving the brother to live in agony. All that was left of the remains, Were the eyes, frozen by a fear unnamed.
The older prince soon came back, With anger in his eyes, his brother he attacked. He killed his brother in the middle of the night, The red ring was gone, along with the people's fright. Where the ring went, no one knows, A secret our new King will never disclose.
The rumors of the Great Fight are clouded and dim, But what I think about it, gives a new spin. I think the ring was off, and without it's powers, The prince woke up from his sleep just to sit and cower. The new King took it and hid it away, Then banished the prince, but told us a different way. The new King's one last story, Just like the old ones, never boring.
And our winner is Moon! Congrats. Moon's poem captured the true scope of the theme of epic poetry. The meter can be off at times, but when dealing with an epic one usually can overlook such things seeing as the poem is telling a story. Another thing, and this is just a personal thing, numbers irritate me in poetry. Write out the word. Aside from those things the poem is truly fantastic, simplistic in its story, but for all that it makes it that much better. It does feel a little incomplete since you mentioned it, yet had you not done so I would probably have not felt that is was. Well done.
Now, am I to keep judging until someone tells me to stop, or is this merely a one time fill in? No one has been to clear on that point. Regardless I'll give you your next theme.
If a tree falls in the forest, Will it be heard? Can it be seen By insect or bird?
Is it a glimmer of truth and a lie, Or does it belie The maps that shan't cry?
If a man is killed By a bear of great zeal, Do the maps he has drawn Be false or be real?
If that man is I, What does that make me? A saint of leaden gold Hiding my horde for ten fold?
Or am I a cartograph, Of truth and false lines; Am I a map, With gold in my mind?
I carved a landscape Of blood ice and snow, I kept my mind open, My dreams under tow.
For I am a man, Exploring great lands, From ice covered Siberia To the shores of Japan.
Across golden seas, Reflecting the breeze; The barren wastes, To be left with all haste.
A freeform poet of worlds I have seen, My quill at the ready, always waiting to sing. A dancing mark of ink on a page, I have written this world, A geologic mage.
If a tree falls in the forest, Will it be heard? It is heard by my heart, As free as a bird.
It echoes through from lands unknown A lavish malice well ingrown That scars the pink and younger flesh With rope and cable and string and mesh
Consuming thoughts from deluded urges It strikes at dawn with violent surges Billowing feeling of missing something In which to indulge your rapid aging
And when will come to departure To soils more accomplished and mature To lands unbeknown to the younger mind It comes in time, at night, you'll find
No matter how you sway and sail You'll come to one day quench the wail Of your body's blood to discover Travelling while under the cover
-
We've all been there, and most of you probably are right now - pg13 uh... - ; yes, it's all about what you think it is about. I could've made it longer, but then it'd have become a lot more...suggestive...Anyhow, I'm trying to spin the theme around a little...Talkin' bout the path to manhood...y'know...
That aside, it's been like, years since I posted here? Hello everyone!!
