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Withdrawn, retreated,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*

Solutions

Toilet

It's flooded.






with faeces.

Poetry

I sit to consider
Sit in my chair

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

Memo = funtastic

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

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.

Glass in my face

When I was a lad,
We didn't have houses or;
Planes or even;
Feet.

All we had was fields.
Fields as far as the eye could see.
All this was fields.
Your house were fields.

STOP SHOUTING AT ME.
"Your hearing aid's turned up grandad"
STOP SHOUTING

Anyway, all this was fields, and you could get,
Seveal king-size Mars Bars for a
Penny.

YET! Today you "don't know you're born"

What's up with that then?



Dedicated to KieranJay

Your emphasis was brilliantly well emphasised.
I have always been admiring your work, even when you thought there wasn't anyone there.

I feel truly at home here, with people like the beautiful Memorandum!, who really understand me. Thankyou for reading my work and helping me gain more confidence.

I feel that soon I will be confident enough to perform my visual arts dance for you all. When I dance I feel the most free from our oppressive civilisation and society. It helps me break the shackles that withold my soul from the sky, and let it fly through the wind like a slightly crippled bird.

Nash's poem made me giggle like the 12 year old school girl I secretly am.