Poetry Contest <work submission>

[Careful With That Axe Pichu!]

[FONT=&quot]Despite the few contestants we have until now, I'm still not going to postpone it. D:

[/FONT]Deadline: 15/02/07

-You may use this thread for work submission only.
-If you wish to submit a poem but you haven't signed up, please do, right here. Be aware though, you'll only be able to sign up until January 25th. After that applications will be officially closed.
-If you have any inquiries or concerns, please post them in the info thread.

participants (submitted work)
-blackhaert
-Enma Ai
-Krafty Quill
-Yesterday
-Knewsbought
-EmeraldSky
-Art_Critic_Cubone
-shaun0505
-CodyJ


Judges
Lily/oni_flygon/Rolling Pichu

 

[Klippy]

[agelimit] ages 15+ (suggestive content)[/agelimit]

The title of my poem is Way of the Sub.​

I want to go
To the oasis of fresh taste
Where the cold cuts
Taste like infinite orgasms

I want to inhabit
The condiment circumstance
Where mayonnaise and mustard
At last make their coitus

Subway
Tantric tastebud tease
How do I define delicious except by a bite?

I want to occupy
The carbohydrate cataclysm
Where whole wheat rebellion
Makes use of whips and chains

I want to congregate
With the vegetable party
Where lettuce, tomato, and cucumbers
Swing so lasciviously nude

Subway
Kama sutra savour
How do I explain delectable except by a swallow?

I will do anything for you
I will even kiss the sandwich artist
With peach fuzz on her upper lip
Because I suspect she tastes like sandwiches​

 

[EmeraldSky]

"Maybe We Really Do"

For many of us, it started with a game
Some sided with the mighty turtle of blue, others with the firey red dragon
Whichever side we chose, our task was the same:
Gotta catch'em all!

The adventure began in the Land of the Rising Sun,
It crossed the pond to the land of the free,
Wherever these mystical creatures did travel,
They captured the hearts of millions, just like you and me.

We faithfully watched the adventures
Of Ash and his friends
As he traveled to prove himself worthy
Some of us strived to be like him,
Wanted to be the very best

But some weren't so swayed by this craze,
Some even dared to call it wicked and dark
But despite all the screaming, we kept on training,
This simple little game had made its mark

Now millions of trainers exist today,
Pokemon has become famous far and wide,
No matter our age, language or creed
We are all a part of a Pokemon world....

Now the tenth year is here, and the catching goes on,
Everyone plays Pokemon with pride!
Yet I think to myself as I train my own team,
Maybe we really do live in a Pokemon world!

 

[Scarlet Weather]

Well, after sitting up all night, I've made my decision. Many people liked the poetic chapter I posted in my first fanfic, but I decided not to use it, and instead to show off my skills at bizarre haiku. The following is a series of Haiku that at one point form a conversation between the writer and his split personality, "Split". The author of these haiku did not intend for them to end up as bizarre as as this, but now they can be read as a single poem, and that is good. Keep in mind- I'm asking you to judge the whole thing as one poem, not each haiku separately, so I'm technically not breaking the rules of entry.

Why You Shouldn't Let an Insane Man Write Haiku

ACC

Silver, silent, shapes
Slowly falling from heaven
Give joy to my heart.

A sweeping, white storm
Breaks through the town barricades
And freezes the cars.

All the world is wrapped
In a soft, silent blanket
Of falling white flakes.

Why do I write these?
The answer is always simple.
Because I am able.

What is my purpose?
I shall answer this question
Without telling you.

If you attempt to
Murder my best friend's uncle
I'll beat you badly.

Well, I enjoy this.
So too bad if you do not-
It does not matter.

Why are haiku fun?
They bring a sense of deepness
That is not truthful.

Why is it truthless?
It is not always truthless,
Truth is not required.

Oh, I see- why talk
To someone who does not exist?
It entertains me.



This conversation
Is getting a wee bit
Disturbing, writer.

I can see that, you
Old split personality
But what should I do?

Well, absolutely
Nothing would be a good plan
Oh famed author.

You feel a wee bit
Vain today, do you not, Split?
I can always tell.

Oh shut up, writer
And let us end this short chat.
Or I will hit you.

I am in total
And absolute agreement
With you, my friend Split.

I would rather not
Freeze in the great outdoors
Today, Mr. Woodsman.

Oh Christmas Tree that
Does not live here any longer
I miss you badly.
​

 

[shaun0505]

Here's mine

The Ballad of a Lost Soul


Time waits
on the edge
of the Universe
of your soul

Waiting for you
waiting for your
life
waiting to be
ripped apart

Torn in two.

Time never hates
It does its job
for the good
of all
No time to
cry

Taking whats
not it's but
leaving few
standing
stong.

Time is the
muderous glare
in an
enemies eye

The cry of
pain
as you
scream out
into the
night.

Wearing its
dark cloaked
body

Suffocating day
and creating
night.

Lifeless
whispers
call out to
be spared

Time takes no prisoners
takes all it wants
and leaves
only to come
and take
the life away
again.

 

[CodyJ]

Here is my submission. It said that I was entered in the contest on the other page so I assume that I am entered here as well and that my name has not yet been added to the list. If not, just disregard this poem. But, here goes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Missing: Inner Child

My little boy is lost,
Lost inside of me,
My little boy that held my joy,
Is deep inside of me,
Hiding from my life,
Keeping his own distance,
For fear that I may turn,
Into something worse than death,

My little boy is missing,
Missing, away from me,
My little boy that held my hope,
Has gone with all my dreams,
The little child that blessed my life,
With a hope and a future,
And things worth more than life,
Is missing and I want him back.

My little boy is dying,
Dying inside of me,
My little boy that held my life,
Has disappeared from my soul,
The small voice inside my throat,
That was responsible for all good,
Has vanished from my present being,
And evaporated from my mind,

My little boy is rotting,
Rotting inside of me,
My little boy that once had life,
Has died with the coming of maturity,
This cruel world that orders growing up,
Has murdered him,
And stolen him from my life,
Taking with it my love and joy,

My little boy is dust,
Blowing away outside of me,
My little boy that gave me meaning,
Has blown away,
An almost epic cloud,
Forever, and ever,
Until the end of time,
And will never return…

My little boy is missing,
Missing inside of me,
And I want him back...

 

[Enma Ai]

sunset

Beneath my grandmother's forgotten tomb
A three-eyed spider lives in endless gloom
A curious thing, all black with red eyes;
It dangles and weaves and it dies.
Those bright, probing pair of red eyes
All brimming with blood, of knowledge and lies
A curious thing, all frozen with frost;
Sad, hopeless, pathetic and lost.
I ask, "May I receive those eyes of yours?"
The spider responds, "They're her's."
A sudden cold breeze, and it blinks with three eyes.
"I killed her, and this is my prize."
Eternal sunset, please grant me this need
To kill the hearts that are brimful of greed
Corrupted, pitiful, sad human souls
Let evil and sin pay their tolls.

To whose sadness do you feed on, little spider?
What darkness do you prefer?

Shall we intertwine of pity, of misfortune and gaze
at the twisted, dying hate of your ways?

Shall we try dying once, little spider?~

 

[Merzbau]

The Victim

by blackhaert

Soulless victim
The waves, they push on you
Sandy beaches
With layers washing through
Escape it
It kills before you're through

When the world falls
Follow me

And in a time
When there's no other way to go
And you think back
To days that are long gone
But you realize
You've been running all along
I'll have you know
He's gonna pay for this one

Drawing pictures
In the sky, they wave to you
Endless speeches
It whispers of the truth
Poisoned inkwell
You've left your mark for sure

When the world falls
Follow me​

I love this one, this one was written about a dear friend of mine.

A...rape victim.

 

[Krafty Quill]

The Saviour

The Saviour ​

Grounded feathers, heavy spirit, fading will…

Lasting wishes cheer a merciful death
To die from fear itself
And deny its fangs the glee.

Alone,
Heart sinking in voiceless beats,
The Pidgey lay on foreign soil - pure dirt.
Even the sands taste of betrayal.
A nice dessert
To suit the flock's own helping

Wicked winds tickle dead wings
With the foe's stench twisted within

A fortunate Ariados approaches.
Weary eyes fail to catch its saunter.
Without effort,
Thirsty daggers sink into easy flesh.

Talons cringe as the spider thrives on its crimson mine.
For hour-long seconds,
Death's fingertips gently caress the Pidgey.
A stroke for every bite,
A pat for every stab,
A final kiss.

Both fulfilled,
The scavenger strides along.
Friend of fate,
Saviour to the fallen

~​

Author's Notes: ...What? I didn't say it was going to be good. o.o;

 

[Yesterday]

this is the best I can do fer now! ^w^

"Autumn"

Dear lady walking, beneath her, dead leaves on the ground
Faded rouge on her lips, humming soft melodies and sound

Swinging by barren trees with weathered hands lifting to pray
Under the gray cloudy sky, to the sun's hidden day.

Hear her grace dance with your cold fingertips
Striking silent strings with subtle skips

With dear love singing sweet melancholy tunes
In those quiet and cozy afternoons...

As the gray autumn world sleeps,
She quietly swoons and weeps,
Unknown to winter's cold embrace
Her last and dying moments of grace.

Prithee, sweet lady, lend me a kiss
That rouge on your lips, I dearly miss
Hold me away from colorless winter,
Remind me that we'll always be together.