The Poetry Contest
Virgin
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2005
- Posts
- 23
Please feel welcome to use this thread to post your poems that were not submitted for the contest.
Unofficial February Poems
- Thread starter The Poetry Contest
- Start date
Liar
now with 17% more class
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2003
- Posts
- 43,715
Before bed, I'll toss mine in.
a constant in petals
there's truth still in there somewhere
because one step too many
and a world askew
can not replenish doubt's well
when it once and for all gapes dry
here is a simple song
two feet walking
while other horizons might burn
and the last straw man grapples
breaks the camel's back
someone might still
live the earth
two heartbeats away
the way the rest of us forgot
a constant in petals
there's truth still in there somewhere
because one step too many
and a world askew
can not replenish doubt's well
when it once and for all gapes dry
here is a simple song
two feet walking
while other horizons might burn
and the last straw man grapples
breaks the camel's back
someone might still
live the earth
two heartbeats away
the way the rest of us forgot
minsue
Gosling
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Posts
- 22,062
falling from grace
she loves me
Not I.
No, ass over tea kettle
fits better.
I've no grace,
least of all with love.
she loves me
radiant with love.
Walking talking hurricane
lamps casting arcs
of warmth from within.
Bitches.
she loves me
awkward
and childish
and usually fall
on my ass.
And yet, somehow
she loves me
she loves me not
Head over heels?Not I.
No, ass over tea kettle
fits better.
I've no grace,
least of all with love.
she loves me
she loves me not
I've seen those womenradiant with love.
Walking talking hurricane
lamps casting arcs
of warmth from within.
Bitches.
she loves me
she loves me not
I stumble, tumbleawkward
and childish
and usually fall
on my ass.
And yet, somehow
she loves me.
PatCarrington
fingering the buttons
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2004
- Posts
- 1,624
Dreams From a Blue Daisy
I know she will come as she always comes,
spilling over hills, laughing and grassgreen.
Breeze tilts my blue petals toward the path
like a baby doe’s head listening
for a sound, for mother.
How foolish to think I could let her touch me
and ever be the same.
I feel her absence mark me now,
helpless for the ambush of autumn,
how without her I am just another spot
on this field. Waiting
is the hardest labor of all.
I bend,
seek shelter from cold winds of dead October,
longing for her fingers and a sudden snapping,
a tender cut of my thin throat.
I was meant for her hand, her water.
Not for this wrinkling.
Inside me in the frost, there are windows
out of which I cannot see. But when I sleep
I see wondrous things, become
someone.
She too has dreamt. Of bouquets,
that behind her stands a castle,
that the next throne is hers.
When you walk into our dream
I am the sapphire in her crown.
Remove your cap and kneel.
Bow your head.
Address us as queens.
I know she will come as she always comes,
spilling over hills, laughing and grassgreen.
Breeze tilts my blue petals toward the path
like a baby doe’s head listening
for a sound, for mother.
How foolish to think I could let her touch me
and ever be the same.
I feel her absence mark me now,
helpless for the ambush of autumn,
how without her I am just another spot
on this field. Waiting
is the hardest labor of all.
I bend,
seek shelter from cold winds of dead October,
longing for her fingers and a sudden snapping,
a tender cut of my thin throat.
I was meant for her hand, her water.
Not for this wrinkling.
Inside me in the frost, there are windows
out of which I cannot see. But when I sleep
I see wondrous things, become
someone.
She too has dreamt. Of bouquets,
that behind her stands a castle,
that the next throne is hers.
When you walk into our dream
I am the sapphire in her crown.
Remove your cap and kneel.
Bow your head.
Address us as queens.
BooMerengue
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2002
- Posts
- 5,456
created in love
painted of perfection
living in the Valley
of The Flower of Great Worth
she smiles knowingly
not that she knows what we think
but because she was
created in love
making her as rare
as a blue flower
Mother Natures most
elusive creation.
I took a deep breath and posted this. It almost says what I wanted but it doesn't. So I threw my hands up in despair and walked away.
And glad I did, after just voting on the braver poems. Y'all just blow me out of the water sometimes.
Amen.
painted of perfection
living in the Valley
of The Flower of Great Worth
she smiles knowingly
not that she knows what we think
but because she was
created in love
making her as rare
as a blue flower
Mother Natures most
elusive creation.
I took a deep breath and posted this. It almost says what I wanted but it doesn't. So I threw my hands up in despair and walked away.
And glad I did, after just voting on the braver poems. Y'all just blow me out of the water sometimes.
Amen.
BooMerengue
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2002
- Posts
- 5,456
minsue said:Boo, you've described every poem I've ever written and my end reaction every damned time.
For what it's worth, I think it's lovely.
aawwwwwwww, TY, sweety... but its as elusive as the blue flower... it only portrays half of what I feel... and that just wasn't good enough...
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 706
Blind Beauty
One can not see
The pictures in my head
The spectrum of colors
From black to red
Quiet pounds my ears
Like a symphony drum
Blind, my senses alert
I am the opposite of numb
Does it make scents
My nose knows why
Geraniums talk to me
In a lover's cry
Hugged by the beauty
I do not see
I can feel the blue
As it beckons to me
It happens each spring
Each month of May
Maybe its the warmth
From the golden day
I'll pluck a flower
From its seeded home
Just like a librarian
Holds an ancient tome
I will stand in silence
Until the shadows cloak
Then all the beauty fades
Like some cruel joke.
Leaving the field
I am reminded of two things
The sweet perfume in my mind
And all the endless springs
One can not see
The pictures in my head
The spectrum of colors
From black to red
Quiet pounds my ears
Like a symphony drum
Blind, my senses alert
I am the opposite of numb
Does it make scents
My nose knows why
Geraniums talk to me
In a lover's cry
Hugged by the beauty
I do not see
I can feel the blue
As it beckons to me
It happens each spring
Each month of May
Maybe its the warmth
From the golden day
I'll pluck a flower
From its seeded home
Just like a librarian
Holds an ancient tome
I will stand in silence
Until the shadows cloak
Then all the beauty fades
Like some cruel joke.
Leaving the field
I am reminded of two things
The sweet perfume in my mind
And all the endless springs
annaswirls
Pointy?
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2003
- Posts
- 7,204
wow these are wonderful!
hmm I guess this means I should go write one, thanks patrick and liar
hmm I guess this means I should go write one, thanks patrick and liar
bluerains
528 inception
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2004
- Posts
- 2,777
flowered eyes in blue
Traces of want within
wildfire gaze coaxes
fair prismed heart.
Warped light alters
crystals within chained pearls.
Tinged rhythms
bang drums
in private panorama.
Sparks exposes loves
jaded core.
Access limits vanilla skies.
Dominion of desire lost
by ownership .
Occupation anchors its
sentinel to pale ivory
coast of pearly perfection.
blue souls blistered
by twisted threads of light
dance floor fades to black
Traces of want within
wildfire gaze coaxes
fair prismed heart.
Warped light alters
crystals within chained pearls.
Tinged rhythms
bang drums
in private panorama.
Sparks exposes loves
jaded core.
Access limits vanilla skies.
Dominion of desire lost
by ownership .
Occupation anchors its
sentinel to pale ivory
coast of pearly perfection.
blue souls blistered
by twisted threads of light
dance floor fades to black
annaswirls
Pointy?
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2003
- Posts
- 7,204
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
Wow, why weren't all these poems submitted to the comp as well. They're great!
Here's mine, and you'll soon see why I didn't post. lol
Hey, I'm learning! lol
Flower Girl
peeling blue
Forget Me Not petals
under a setting sun,
bathing in the scent of
breeze blowing blooms
thoughts wandering far as
bare feet crush flowers
and she wonders,
What If...
What if he'd stayed,
Could she have lived
without his love?
Here's mine, and you'll soon see why I didn't post. lol
Hey, I'm learning! lol
Flower Girl
peeling blue
Forget Me Not petals
under a setting sun,
bathing in the scent of
breeze blowing blooms
thoughts wandering far as
bare feet crush flowers
and she wonders,
What If...
What if he'd stayed,
Could she have lived
without his love?
G
Guest
Guest
wildsweetone said:Wow, why weren't all these poems submitted to the comp as well. They're great!
Here's mine, and you'll soon see why I didn't post. lol
Hey, I'm learning! lol
Flower Girl
peeling blue
Forget Me Not petals
under a setting sun,
bathing in the scent of
breeze blowing blooms
thoughts wandering far as
bare feet crush flowers
and she wonders,
What If...
What if he'd stayed,
Could she have lived
without his love?
IMO this should have been in the contest. You're too modest.
A Matter Of Taste
Sometimes
A picture will attach itself
Wriggle under my skin and
Settle in my mind
Making me long to own it
But this one got away
And slipped back into the stream.
The_Fool
smiling for the camera
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2003
- Posts
- 17,755
Scent of beauty
Offers light to one
Whose eyes shine
Only within her soul
Sensing her imbalance
As seen only by the blind
She whispers a flower
Into bloom
Skirt stained
By the smell of violets
She wanders fields
Of sylvan solitude
Shoulders caressed
By Sun’s copper rays
She maps the mood
Of her memories
Fortunate misfortune
Color night and day
As one
Brightness measured as warmth
Timeless tears
Fall south
Marking blossoms
In her night
Offers light to one
Whose eyes shine
Only within her soul
Sensing her imbalance
As seen only by the blind
She whispers a flower
Into bloom
Skirt stained
By the smell of violets
She wanders fields
Of sylvan solitude
Shoulders caressed
By Sun’s copper rays
She maps the mood
Of her memories
Fortunate misfortune
Color night and day
As one
Brightness measured as warmth
Timeless tears
Fall south
Marking blossoms
In her night
wildsweetone
i am what i am
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2002
- Posts
- 6,809
Tristesse said:IMO this should have been in the contest. You're too modest.
Not modest, just realistic.
But, I'll get there. Thank you for your thought
The_Fool, I like the depth of emotion your poem touches. Thank you for sharing.
annaswirls
Pointy?
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2003
- Posts
- 7,204
projection
projection
if this were a photograph
you would not see who she was
on this, the day before.
with eyes closed, colors invert
and like a pebble in a barefoot shoe
size grows to meet the feeling.
petals hover weightless
repelled by static in the imagination
of this perfectly beautiful girl.
She once danced this hillside
without bruising a single petal
light and lifted gentle
the days before
he told her what she was
and she believed.
projection
if this were a photograph
you would not see who she was
on this, the day before.
with eyes closed, colors invert
and like a pebble in a barefoot shoe
size grows to meet the feeling.
petals hover weightless
repelled by static in the imagination
of this perfectly beautiful girl.
She once danced this hillside
without bruising a single petal
light and lifted gentle
the days before
he told her what she was
and she believed.
trendyredhead
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 20, 2002
- Posts
- 344
I couldn't come up w/ anything serious....
Through forget-me-not fields
Of dreams left behind,
She wanders alone
With love on her mind
Could he have loved her?
Should she have stayed?
But betrayal is bitter,
With her heart she has paid.
If leaving is easy
And loving is hard,
Why did his departure
Leave her heart deeply scarred?
So she’ll lay down her daydreams
And wishes galore;
When fate closes a window
He opens a door.
Through forget-me-not fields
Of dreams left behind,
She wanders alone
With love on her mind
Could he have loved her?
Should she have stayed?
But betrayal is bitter,
With her heart she has paid.
If leaving is easy
And loving is hard,
Why did his departure
Leave her heart deeply scarred?
So she’ll lay down her daydreams
And wishes galore;
When fate closes a window
He opens a door.
jthserra
Thousand Cranes
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 678
Passing
Passing
The ships on the Mississippi
like flower petals tossed
by a small girl, the white
clinging to her fingers --
partly clouds above the water
and memories of paddlewheels.
You can't forget her face,
oddly shadowed as searching
each blossom for something more,
eyes reflecting the sadness:
another ship heads to sea,
passing on the brown current.
jim : )
Flying back from the "still" hurricane ravaged Pensacola, Fla, we passed over the Mississippi.
Passing
The ships on the Mississippi
like flower petals tossed
by a small girl, the white
clinging to her fingers --
partly clouds above the water
and memories of paddlewheels.
You can't forget her face,
oddly shadowed as searching
each blossom for something more,
eyes reflecting the sadness:
another ship heads to sea,
passing on the brown current.
jim : )
Flying back from the "still" hurricane ravaged Pensacola, Fla, we passed over the Mississippi.
annaswirls
Pointy?
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2003
- Posts
- 7,204
*bump to join the other Feb. poems*
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