Viewing Thread:
"Short Poem Competition Returns"

Hey all. Discodexy asked if someone would start a new one of these competitions, so here goes.

Rules:

-Maximum of, shall we say, 200 words?
-The word to base it around is "pain", you can easily get something out of that.

I'm going on holiday on Sunday but will judge soon after I get back. Shall we say, entries in by 2nd September, and I will judge them and name the top three poems on the 4th September. This gives people plenty of time to get their entries in.

Post your poems in this thread!

Enjoy

RESULTS!

3rd Place goes to Mav for this entry...

Pain.
Makes me feel insane,
It comes and goes
My mind is slain,
Withdrawn, retreated,
A wounded fawn,
Nothing is here for me,
Nothing will help.

It rises up - the pain in me,
Even alone, I feel its grip,
No pressure, no feeling,
Just the horror of it,
I fall, neglected,
A victim, rejected,
My mind is affected
In ways I accept it,
But I can't help but give in,
It overthrows me, commands,
I'm suffocating, holding out my arms,
Grasping for help, but I slip away,
Unnoticed, uncared for, there's no other way,
They don't know about me, neither do you,
I drift through crowds,
Invisible.

Yet my pain remains, I live in vain,
Because I can't.
There's no going forward,
No going back,
To these people I'm a pet,
They call me Jack.


2nd place goes to Grebo, for this entry...

"In mute mental anguish,
We are divided by allegiances,
Our stoppered emotions,
Precipitating smouldering conflagrations,
And explosions of patience,
Whether soul-less happiness,
Or soul-full despair,
Inciting reactions of ineffectuality,
Leading to solitude,
Always looking to reason,
But finding indefatigable naiveté,
Always leading, leading, leading,
Downwards spiralling,
To an ultimate climax,
Rushing, insisting,
and pressing the balance,
Losing our equilibrium,
Leading, leading,
Subconscious observations,
Of intellectual depravations,
And self imposed mental anarchy,
Giving stunning inspirations,
Revelations of reality,
Dawning from obscurity,
Losing, losing,
Humour engulfed,
Mind retreating,
Downwards spiralling,
Self absorbed,
Comatose,
Eventual emotional flat liner."


and the winner is... Azul! For his entry, I've got the Power...

My remorseful soul, a prism of unrest;
Summer rains replenishing and tender
And shadowy clouds ebb and flow with jest;
A ray of gold pierces them with splendour
As light hits my soul and splits into a rainbow.
The valley echoes with my brothers cries
And fields of faith bloom with hope as they grow.
I see my beacon shine through broken skies:

Sapphire birds dance through the eloquent air
And roses sway in the winds of grandeur.
The beauty overwhelms as petals wear,
and hated barbs play a hurtful overture.
The thorns puncture my heart with woeful pain -
I'm smiling; meaningfully going insane

Congratulations Azul, you've won the satisfaction of knowing I thought your poem was better than all the other entries.

Thanks to everyone who entered (especially Mattribute, who put in loads of short, often odd, poems), I just thought these were the best of the lot. Anyone that wants to start the next competition with their own word is free to do so.

Cheers

*HE*

Paradox: wrote:
> Memo = funtastic

It's about the hardships of growing older and facing death as it grows closer and its inevitability really begins to sink in. I chose to develop this concept through the view of the child as I felt it really emphasised the visible effects of age on everyone, and not only the person in question.

Thanks for admiring my work.

Cranes live in my pond
Only I don't own ponds or
Cranes only coins and pounds.
Kicking my football through the mud reminds me of when

I was a small child, a snail,
Getting into trouble at school for baking placental
Loaves in the school Kitchens,
Opening my mouth I would feed myself
ORANGE bisccuits from the fridge : rebel

Memo = funtastic

Poetry

I sit to consider
Sit in my chair

Glance across the room
And say to my mother
You look really old

It's flooded.






with faeces.

Solutions

Toilet

Pain, the many forms

My bladder bulges horridly
it swells up inside of me
Eyes pink-rimmed and tearful
I really need to pee.

My intestine skewed and knotted
I can merely force a trump
Stomach churned in agony
Oh how I need to dump.

My brown-eye red and watery
it feels rather queer
The pain and soreness then set in
alas, I have diarrhea

This is a poem in what I like to consider a descending style:

falling, falling, falling....

The first verse
It brings the introduction
It shows us the direction
It lights the path
It tells of the initial ideas
Of the poem

The second
It develops
It becomes more ambiguous
The images appear
And introduce some pretensions

The third
Shorter still
As the themes tighten up
Become more focused

The fourth begins the conclusion
The wind-down begins
As I prepare to meet the end

The fifth, and penultimate
Is almost pointless.

As the final line ends with a sophisticated thought.

Oh, and why do you put "Love" everywhere?

It's obvious you don't love me, so don't make me quote lines from the "Love" act of 1974.

KieranJay wrote:
> Hello Mr Nash,
>
> Just dropping you a note to let you know that I've alerted the BBC
> get writing editors (who are fiercly protective of their community)
> and the director of Inter-Mediates Ltd(who happens to be my
> relative). I hope that you get away with a slap on the wrist but in
> the meantime I suggest that you brush up on your Intellectual
> Property Law (start by reading the copyrights, designs and Patents
> act).
>
> Love
>
> KJ
>
> P.S. Because I have the power

My uncle is Queen of Russia.

Besides, I was quite clearly posting your poem. I didn't write 'by Nash' anywhere on the post, the poem was copied from the link you posted the line before the post, I don't get anything from it like a prize or something of the sort, etc.

Anyway, it's obvious to everyone but you that I meant no harm.