Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
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Poetry challenge: Christmas poem.
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Submitted by Willowdot21
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It’s not fair it’s a shame
Christmas has come and gone again.
I am cold and put on weight
Eating all those chocolates I normally HATE!
The holly has all gone from the halls,
And some one broke my favourite balls!
There is a bit of Christmas tree
Stuck up the most embarrassing PART OF ME.!!
Photo from Cow girl dairies
Drip, drip, drip warm wet release.
It oozes out of me
Painful frozen squeeze please.
Stop the bloody pain.
Poetry challenge: Tetractys.
Photo, http://www.dreaminterpretation-dictionary.com
Silent
———————-
Silent
Isolated
Lonely soul
Ended sad life
No more to breath reposed now in quiet death Tragic.
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An Acrostic Tetractys. ( had to cheat and add an extra line to spell silent. )
Poetry challenge: Tetractys.
Photo, Eligible magazine.com
Dance
Light toes
Cha-cha-cha
Flair skirt tip toe
Released mind flies high smiling lips sigh, bye.
They came, the planet eaters, they trundled on and on they came upon us quietly so at first we did not notice anything was wrong.
The were tall and they were frightening with a wiry and metal shape, they crept up on us silently and left us wide eyed with mouth agape.
Where once was green meadow is now just dust and sand.
Photo, Idomag.co.uk
Hush! silence please , I can’t think, I can’t cope
My head is melting , I’m loosing it, loosing hope!
Everyone is a little mental, I do not mean to be detrimental.
But just look at me I am loosing all control
Changing , melding , loosing my soul.
I look in the mirror and see all my colours bleeding
No definition left of me, my sanity’s receding.
Look at those colours drooping and melding
There is not much of me left now, even after all that welding.
Photo http://www.actsofvolition.com
I had an exploding tin of flowers
It made me feel fine. I would slip out, after hours
And watch the flying colours while I drink my wine.
I offered you my flowers
I hoped to make you happy too.
I saw the Angel at the grave she was weeping tears.
The weight of all the grief she had seen, years of pain and fears.
It hurt me to see the angel so, such a burden she had to carry.
The hate and betrayal all around I wondered why she should tarry.
It hurts his voice cuts through me and I bleed, bleed stress.
This can of worms is open again and I am up to my neck in mess.
Never never , you find ME doing that .
Photo cdn.trendhunterstatic.com
Running through the tunnel, afraid of my own shadow
I can’t breath this place is dark and so narrow.
I hear the river on the other side of the wall
She is whispering and to me I hear her call.
She’s after me I know, if I trip she’ll catch me as I fall.
She is flowing , flowing her powers growing, growing
Fingers rippling , rippling reaching out for me
Please don’t let her catch hold of me or I shall never again be free.
Photo http://www.wetcanvas.com
Close you eyes and take a leap
Step out proud don’t cower and creep!
Run at life and grab it with both hands
Face your fears accept things as they stand.
Poetry challenge: Oxymoron’s
A deafening silence descended up the hill and someone shouted “good grief”
Two young adults came into view looking like the living dead
Their eyes wide shut they looked ahead behind each stone to vent locked up release.
Their clothing was inside out and they were walking upside down and they kept looking back ahead.
Music floating in the air
Music, people smells and sounds everywhere .
A horrendous queue for the loo
A plethora of things to see and do.
A smiley girl hardly anything on dances in her wellies
She and her mates are having fun they have all got new piercings on their bellies!
A little toddler run’s a rye his dad is watching closely from near by.
His mum is having a henna tattoo, it’s really is just the thing to do,something I would love to try.
Vainly ignoring her
Amber lips, making his dead heart stir
Moving in he thrust himself into her
Talk to the hand the face ain’t listening .
Don’t get that close to me I can see the tiny hairs on your neck bristling!
Screaming at me like that is just so pointless
I have done nothing wrong so why cause me so much distress.
I know every time I open my mouth
I say something wrong and then the whole day goes south.
Look at those cushions, they are not straight. The dust on this coffee table is inches thick. Clean it up now you lazy bitch you know mess is something I hate.
Do it now, go, move you make me feel sick.
Don’t stand there staring as if you were thick.
The kids have wrecked the bathroom, move your arse and sort them now. I don’t give a damn about your aching head.
Where is my dinner I have been at work all day, have you even heard a word I have said.
I am bored are you
Why is there nothing to do
Things are tired and blue
I shall not run I shall not hide
I’ll face the void with my eyes open wide.
I shall call up my warrior from within
and hone my sword the battle to begin
If I must make sense of what is my worth.
I shall do it now I shall justify my time on earth.
Each time the void comes for me
I make the mistake of either drowning or trying to flee.
Why do I do this time after time both paths are futile
I end up broken, spent and feeling vile.
Falling from the moon,
The stars said Ah! the earth cried see you soon.
It did not seem so far when I had started out
But now as it goes on I begin to have some doubt.
The twinkling stars whizzed by
As I waved the moon goodbye.
I felt that I could fly
Felt I could zoom up and light the sky.
I began to shudder and shake,
What if I hit the earth too soon, would I would break.
Sitting on the Piano top is the metronome
Guiding you unable to stop music in your home
Tick! Tock! Tick !Tock! you must never cease
Making music as the notes bring you release
So in syncopating trance you are hypnotized
Tick! Tock ! your music is highly prized.
Can you the answer see,can you please
where is the person who used to be me.
I have tried to find her and searched high and low,
in and out but she is hidden somewhere I cannot see her though.
She was bright and she was funny always had a song to sing
A job to finish and a question to answer her smile was electric it had a certain zing.
Poetry challenge: Landscape.
Photo from fine art America.com
The road is dry and my feet are bare
but I am heading for home, I just must get there.
I walked this way when I went to school
so full of hope open to learning the rule.
I trod this way as I grew older
my books got heavier and the winters got colder.
I am a fret work,patchwork,lost soul of a girl.
I am pigtail, full bangs short skirt thrown into a whirl.
I am a big bust, tight arsed see through boiling pot of lust!
I am a thigh high patent leather boots of “come on”..now don’t feign disgust!
I am a black eyed, raggy dress, sexy legs in stripy socks.
Purple lips curvy hips legs akimbo over the back of a chair
throw my head back wash your chest with my hair.
Drip drip, the snow is loosing it’s grip and Winter Wonder is looking tired. She has been dragging her skirts through the fields and turning then to slush it really is becoming bothersome to her as she does so hate to rush.
But who is this peeking through the cracks in the clouds, hiding in the buds of flowers and calling to Wonder but not too look
It is her little sister the youngest of them all, most delicate and gentle soul, Silver Spring the song birds all do her call.She is the light touch of a gentle breeze that gently rustles through your hair. She runs her fingers along the branches and makes the snow to thaw then dances on our roofs and paths so it disappears some more.
She is dancing up and down the flower beds and whispering to the buds, “Come on my little lovelys it is time to raise your heads! Waking up the squirrels and every animal that hibernates, hurry hurry she gently coos I have filled your breakfast plates.
Haunting and sad this troubled young man who grew to be a Bolshi detective inspector, opera loving, crossword breaker and connoisseur of real ale, has taken my interest . Here is part of a little ode to Endeavor / Morse, that is buzzing around my head.
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Endeavor, Endeavor
A lonely young man but clever.
A fast tract detective before his time
Super sleuth quick he is and always solves the crime.
Music his first love. Opera his life’s blood and sustenance.
Real ale his hobby,a joy to light his countenance .
Such a beauty standing there
white flowers in your jet black hair.
Starry dreams within your eyes ,
the kind that make young men’s spirits to rise.
Golden brown skin young and unlined
and a smile that could the sun blind.
In you grasp a leaf shaped fan.
That fan is the envy of many a young man.
Just like being stretched upon the rack
bruised toes and aching back.
Practice practice every day
no time to sooth those pains away.
Willowy thin is hard to maintain
you have to be strict and refuse treats
again and again.
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