The Official NeoGAF General Poetry Thread #5

Theme: A view from Afar or from Within

Interpret this theme however you like. Whether it is just the inspirational starting point for your poem or entirely consistent to the theme is up to you.

Optional Secondary Objective: Clerihew

I'll add more information later, in the post below, but its one of the more funnier/interesting forms of poetry.

Poetry thread Rules version 1.1:

1. E3/worldcup/ OT being closed down this week has meant that we have just over a week to get your entries in this time round instead of the normal two week period.
2. This thread is not merely for winning or losing, but for critiquing and improving your own craft.
3. This poetry thread 'contest' will end on a Friday, and voting will last until Sunday at midnight. You cannot win unless you vote. Although you don't have to submit a piece to vote.
4. The winner must then provide the next challenge theme for the following normal two week period.
5. There are no word count limits, make it as long or as short as you want. Yes, even haikus are fine.
6. Optional secondary objectives are not mandatory, you can include them or not.
7. Further addition to rule six. You can also try the secondary objective as a secondary piece. Just make sure you label it as such. (This may work as an added incentive to try the secondary objective, as people might vote for either of your pieces).
8. Vote for your favourite poems.
9. Voters should award first, second and third places to their favourite three poems. First place is allocated three points. Second place is allocated two points. And third place is allocated one point. Don't vote for the same author twice.
10. In the event of a tie, the tally will be counted again with first place being allocated three and half points. If it isn't resolved then, it will be up to the OP (most likely the previous winner) to decide.
11. Winner gets a round of applause and will have the records stating it as such.

Deadline: Friday, June 25th, 2010 at 11:59pm, Pacific.
Voting will then begin.
You should get your votes in by: Sunday, June 27th, 2010 at 11:59pm, Pacific.

Good luck everyone.
___________________________________

Final Entries list

Dresden: Cristiano Ronaldo
Dresden: They call it the vuvuzela
Cyan: George Washington
Cyan: Ashes1396
Hey Monkey: Cyan Hobbes
ZephyrFate: ZephyrFate
Cyan: Adrian Brody
goldlion054: The girl at the grocery store
Melchiah: Beneath the flesh
Dresden: Alfarif
Alfarif: Uncanny
Alfarif: The Balloon
Plumbob: The Witches Wade South
Dartastic: Within - "Fear"
Bootaaay: Delirium Tremens
Bootaaay: Poor Gary Coleman
Ankitt: sightsee
kid ness: The Market
Dresden: Said the Monkey to the Monk
AnkitT: The circlejerk
hey_monkey: Just One
Ashes1396: und sex? (and sex?)

Non-eligible entries:
Ashes1396: Untitled the seller’s boy (fair warning: unabridged 1800 word poem)

___________________________________

THE RESULTS

1. Bootaaay: Poor Gary Coleman: ****12- after tie breaker- 14 pts
2. kid ness: The Market:* 12- after tie breaker - 12.5 pts
3. hey_monkey: Just One: *5
3. Bootaaay: Delirium Tremens:* 5
3. Dresden: Said the Monkey to the Monk: 5


The rest of the results:

4. goldlion054: The girl at the grocery store: *4
5. Plumbob: The Witches Wade South:4
6. Melchiah: Beneath the flesh: *3
7. AnkitT: The circlejerk:2
8. Alfarif: Uncanny: 1

Dresden: Cristiano Ronaldo
Dresden: They call it the vuvuzela
Cyan: George Washington
Cyan: Ashes1396
Hey Monkey: Cyan Hobbes
ZephyrFate: ZephyrFate
Cyan: Adrian Brody
Dresden: Alfarif
Alfarif: The Balloon
Dartastic: Within - "Fear"
Ankitt: sightsee
Ashes1396: und sex? (and sex?)


* No. of first places.

Bootaaay: Poor Gary Coleman wins for having the most first places

Congratulations Bootaaay on your first win.
___________________________________

Secondary Objective: Try your hand at writing a Clerihew

From wiki:

What is a clerihew:

A clerihew is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. The lines are comically irregular in length, and the rhymes, often contrived, are structured AABB. One of his best known is this (1905):

Sir Christopher Wren
Went to dine with some men
He said, "If anyone calls,
Say I'm designing Saint Paul's."


A clerihew has the following properties:

• It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; it pokes fun at mostly famous people
• It has four lines of irregular length (for comic effect); the third and fourth lines are usually longer than the first two
• The rhyme structure is AABB; the subject matter and wording are often humorously contrived in order to achieve a rhyme
• The first line consists solely (or almost solely) of the subject's name.

Clerihews are not satirical or abusive, but they target famous individuals and reposition them in an absurd or commonplace setting, often giving them an over-simplified and slightly garbled description (similar to the schoolboy style of 1066 and All That).

The unbalanced and unpolished poetic meter and line length parody the limerick, and the clerihew form also parodies the eulogy.

Source.

If that feels daunting or tedius, here's a lighter approach on how to write a Clerihew:

"
How to write a Clerihew

You're going to love learning how to write clerihews. Why? Because clerihews are funny poems you write about specific people. That means when you learn to write a clerihew, you can instantly write funny poems about your parents, your teacher, your favorite movie star, your best friend, your pet, or anyone else you can think of.

Clerihews have just a few simple rules:

1. They are four lines long.
2. The first and second lines rhyme with each other, and the third and fourth lines rhyme with each other.
3. The first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.
4. A clerihew should be funny.

That's it! You don't have to worry about counting syllables or words, and you don't even have to worry about the rhythm of the poem.

example 1:

Our art teacher, Mr. Shaw,
Really knows how to draw.
But his awful paintings
Have caused many faintings.

example: 2

The enemy of Harry Potter
Was a scheming plotter.
I can't tell you what he's called; I'd be ashamed
To name "he who must not be named."

So you see, clerihews are short, easy to write and can be about any person or character, real or not. They can be about people you know, people you don't know, or even about animals, cartoon characters, rock groups, or anyone else you can think of. "

Source

Haha, sounds like a good time. I'm going to try to get something in this time.

Cute secondary. Congrats again, Ashes!

Huh! out of nowhere, I've got an idea for a poem.

Don't know if I'm doing it right... >.> who knows. Fun stuff and great secondary objective, though.

Cristiano Ronaldo loves Frodo
although he prefers him dressed like a pink dodo.
Effeminacy is no concern to him,
and his friends all call him Kim.

They call it the vuvuzela,
not exactly shaped like an umbrella.
They toot it hard and they toot it long,
'though the sound they make is like bees in a bong.

The first President, George Washington,
wore a wig and thought he was posh-ington.
But the crafty old Whig
came off more a prig.


Ashes1396
Delivers unseen mighty kicks.
He leaps from the dark
And leaves a mark.

I'm a gonna enjoy this one.

We call Cyan Hobbes
'Cause we're all sort of slobs,
And whenever that bastard wins
We all dream of kicking his shins.




(lord, that's terrible!)

:lol
Clerihews always put me in a good mood.

ZephyrFate
There once was a dude
Who never really could exude
Enough sex as an interlude.



ew.

Adrien Brody
Kinda grody
Went on a quest
Where he went around the world and underwater and into outer space and the sun and shit and hey_monkey watched it like twenty times and was like "damn yo this is the best!"

Ok, i can play your games...


The girl at the grocery store
I always notice her from the front door
The view is always so pretty
Only to be disappointed by her bold age of fifty



rough, i know. Kind of a whim, maybe i'll try again later

Cyan said:

Where he went around the world and underwater and into outer space and the sun and shit and hey_monkey watched it like twenty times and was like "damn yo this is the best!"

Click to expand...

:lol :lol :lol
Funny because it's true.

I really should read the two OP and write my one clerihew... I am going to miss out on this if I don't get cracking. You guys look like you're having way too much fun!

Beneath the flesh
Beneath the layers of grey hanging skin
There is nothing
And in nothing is the essence
In the vacant souls
In the dormant its presence is bound
Within the faceless
The dark hovers therein
The shadow twitching, oscillating
Breathing through the mouths of the living
The malice
Through the eyes it sees
Through the fingers it feels
Through the wounds it is freed
To walk among the faceless

Alfarif said:

I really should read the two OP and write my one clerihew... I am going to miss out on this if I don't get cracking. You guys look like you're having way too much fun!

Click to expand...

Alfarif
is about to rip
his book of poetry
for they remind him of the commie tree.

I'm working on a more regular poem for the theme but I am soooo not happy with it.

Looking forward to this, clerihews are a great secondary! Good job Ashes.

I plan on doing the secondary as another entry. This is for the topic, itself.

Uncanny

Solid, unmovable
Irregular, immaculate
Perfection.

Ting, ting, ting, ting.

Flawless, but a piece
Powdered grit
And clouded air.

Ting, ting, ting, ting.

Shape and form
Perfection no longer
Resemblance uncanny.

Ting, ting, ting, ting.

Ah, there she is.

Dresden said:

Alfarif
is about to rip
his book of poetry
for they remind him of the commie tree.

Click to expand...

:lol :lol Now you know I have to write one about you!

The Balloon

Dresden
Oh, where's your balloon been
It pops and shatters, teases, and suddenly disappears
To be replaced by anime avatars that bring me to tears.

:lol

Oh god that is horrible. Eh, screw it, that's my second entry.

The Witches Wade South

As we hold hands and hum as we press nearer
As eyes slip shut to hold in humble tears
I spy a homely girl who clasps a chain-bound cross,
Who stays afloat awhile, to stay and blow her final bubbles,
A calm salute to crowded shores.
Oh how I wish her feet were tied to bags of sand!
That I may bite and tear the rags that hold me.
That I could taste the ugly taste of land
To spit away the tokens that do claim me.
How courtly sinking bodies are,
How dignified the fever’s heat...
Oh God! Where have they gone?
Why have they not emerged, at last?
Are they the angels now,
Whose fair feet float through weed and sand?
Or are they drowning still, their life teased out
By dark regrets, O the ugly circumstance
Of a shore that will not have them.

6-24: added a title and tweaked a bit

Alfarif said:

:lol :lol Now you know I have to write one about you!

The Balloon

Dresden
Oh, where's your balloon been
It pops and shatters, teases, and suddenly disappears
To be replaced by anime avatars that bring me to tears.

:lol

Oh god that is horrible. Eh, screw it, that's my second entry.

Click to expand...

moar! :lol I don't how we're going to compile all these multiple entries. But we'll do it somehow, don't you worry about that!

This is such a fun challenge! I have been laughing reading these over and over all night. :lol

Within - "Fear"

One day I think I’ll understand
what it means to give up and let myself
tumble down a waterfall of emotion
bruising and breaking my bones,
leading me towards an end goal
desire
but for now I must stay flacid
I will not succumb so easily
i won’t let you eat my heart from the
depths of the ocean
I’m not pure.
I’m scared.

...and because i'm quite pissed at some douchebag right now...


Afar, sorta within - "Testosterone"

I’m glad we took your land
and burned your huts and raped your women
I’m glad we “civilized” you and transmitted
diseases that ravaged your cultures and
made you bitter for generations to come
And because of you,
I am bitter now.
Yet you are bitter and angry for no reason.
Don’t take it out on me.
you cannot blame past generations.
fuck you.

Here are Bootaaay's entries:

Main objective;

Delirium Tremens

I’ve got the shakes again,
hands moving of their own will.
Spare some change, kind sir?
So that I might drink my fill.
Or kick me to the gutter once more
to lay amongst the swill.
But if I had just one more glass,
a drop I would not spill.
The fuel my mind craves,
lifes one remaining thrill.
That warm, liquid amber glow
more seductive, than any pill.

Secondary objective;

Poor Gary Coleman died recently, he fell and hit his head.
St. Peter met him at the pearly gates, and this is what he said;
"Time to weigh your sins, dear Gary, your virtue shall be in no doubt"
To whit squat Gary replied, "Saint Peter...whatchu talkin' 'bout?"

bootay got banned? Man we're falling like flies.

He was banned by the last challenge I think. His ban ends this sunday.

Nooooo, Booootaaaay!

Whether from afar or within, a view is a view
sew together the threads to fabricate what you knew
the morning dew eludes your senses and condenses
the commencement of it eludes your strongest defenses
but whence it begins to coarse through there is no recourse

Schemes, memes and dreams of become dope fiends
seem like a scene created by the diamond beam gleams
so pick up the shovels and befuddled dig up the dirt
it's just a point of view for what it's worth, my good sir
no reason for the heathens to breed heathen, unless there's some light treason

The recluse views things differently, maybe you call it obtuse
but douse the flames as the DOW crashes and to rubble stocks reduce
but that's beside the view point so far from it that it may be trapped within
the bin filled with bright ideas only sins as we sit in the court of the crimson king
so sing your lullabies to where it applies and view it as preemptive when the court arrives

The senses can be fooled, vices can be retooled and funds spooled
so as to create the new school where your eyes are pulled over with wool
the black sheep died so that you would feel less racist and that's the whole gist
the bump of the fist and goes on the list telling destiny you have a tryst with
prescribed with rose-tinted 3D glasses with free passes to the burning classes of masses
___________________________________________________________________________

I might try my hand at the clerihew soon.

Ashes1396 said:

bootay got banned? Man we're falling like flies.

Click to expand...

Didn't I tell you that people lose their minds when they are not in the writing thread? It's like they become neanderthals once they are away from the brilliance that surrounds these threads. :lol :lol

I should have a banning come up sometime soon. :lol

The Market
a crowded market buzzes
the brick walls are bare
and the togas drag
behind a pinpoint cat's stare

she can pass through
corridors of infinite supply
of fruits and supplies
making use of a feline body
making use of her time

transactions exacted
currency exchanged
while the cat
slips back
and takes all their things

what will a cat do
with a hand held fan?
can she settle a home
on an acre of land?

finally residing on top of a ledge
she is balanced and she stays
looking for something to see
and then, she looks down right at me

tell me cat,
what do your open eyes suggest?

I got worried about the banhammer when the girl threads were getting closed, but beyond that, I have a relatively quiet presence and I am glad.

My poem changed completely and now I may like it. Hope I finish.

Alfarif said:

Didn't I tell you that people lose their minds when they are not in the writing thread? It's like they become neanderthals once they are away from the brilliance that surrounds these threads. :lol :lol

I should have a banning come up sometime soon. :lol

Click to expand...

Go out in a blaze of glory! :lol

Anyways, my entry:

Said the Monkey to the Monk,

Your vague abstractions
and your pretty words
fail to satisfy me.

Appeasement is no longer
an option. Heed me well,
feed me bananas

that your God has denied me.

Secondary objective entry:

The circlejerk
outer circle observer, trying to usurp the turf
by creating rhymes that stay fresh and funky
which begs the question "Hey, why we still got monkeys?"

I am taking all this monkey shit personally.

:lol

hey_monkey said:

I am taking all this monkey shit personally.

:lol

Click to expand...

It's only because 'the chimp to the monk' didn't sound as nice as 'the monkey to the monk'!

:lol

Dresden, close your eyes and imagine I am very slowly throwing a water balloon at you. I can see it so clearly in my head.

Some of you might have been wondering: Hang on, I've entered a couple of clerihews, what's going to happen to my poor work. I put so much time and effort....

Alright Everyone. THIS is YOUR OP speaking. Stay Calm! Everything is going to be okay!
*For one night only* I'm a gonna call a votable entry amnesty. Cause everybody is entering multiple times and this is the only way I can think of allowing the entries to count.

Emergency Rule ammendment.

1. The amnesty is only on Clerihews!

And that's it. You are allowed unlimited clerihew entries.*
Please remember when voting you cannot vote for the same author twice.
Again, just incase you missed the small picture above:



Ok, move along. Nothing more to see here.


*Subject to fair use policy. Don't go mental on this 'secondary' objective. This is meant to be for people who have multiple entries already. cheers. Good luck every one. I'll put this in the op.

t-10 hours till deadline.

AnkitT said:

Secondary objective entry:

The circlejerk
outer circle observer, trying to usurp the turf
by creating rhymes that stay fresh and funky
which begs the question "Hey, why we still got monkeys?"

Click to expand...

:lol :lol :lol

Oh god... this made me bust out laughing at work. Thanks for that.

Dresden said:

Go out in a blaze of glory! :lol

Click to expand...

*Bon Jovi plays*

I don't really get your voting changes?

My first-objective entry:

Just One

You said you were not like them
these shuffling scarecrows, stiff
with dirt and hung about
with bags.

You stored pride in your vertebrae,
kept your beard shaved bare
and held onto things—lighters,
railings, walls—so no one could see
your hands shake.

You said, the first time, just one,
but one becomes two and three drinks in
your eyes fade away, going soft
and loose.

You carried your own bags that first day,
through the warped and water-stained door, into
that empty space with the too-bright bedspread bursting
with flowers, and I thought: maybe this time, things
will be different.

You said: you don't understand, and when I looked
at the life you have chosen, loose tobacco and
the swaying stink of three dollar whiskey, I knew
you were right.

Same as before, except you're allowed more entries for the secondary objective.

I will wait for the compiled list. This is going to be so hard to vote this time around! So much good material!

und sex?

Sex is brutally honest,
and yet it spawns the red light district,
Die Porno ist das Opium des Volkes,
Caveat emptor






*line 3:
Non eligible entry:

Comment:
I lost a bit of my work this week, but I did come across some that I'd been looking for a long time. This is something I wrote ages ago. I was reminded of it, when we were talking about the longest poems ( starts from post 51). This is the longest poem I have ever written. Completely unabridged here. How many people will even make it to the end? :lol
Fun fact, did a quick math, and I think, I spent more time writing the 21 word poem above then I did writing this 1800 word poem. I might be off, but it's certainly close enough.
edit: I just read a bit of it myself, I don't think this is the final draft of the poem. Or well, it doen't matter anyway. Remember you don't have to read this poem to vote. This poem is ineligible for voting.


Untitled the seller’s boy


Who remembers walking down memory lane,
As picturesque as it might seem
Very suitable for a painting or a film
Like that old Havana tree
Leafless with a sense of its breeze
Amongst the branches reading
Something that reminds me of poetry

Who remembers walking down the memory lane,
As something worth regretting
And all that you learn from love
That it’s a symbol
Rather like peace
Out of its place
In juxtaposition

I remember walking down memory lane
An orphan as I may be
As often as I care to believe
Running down to meet my mother
After school, at home time
You can tell the teachers good bye
And they reply
With honesty and sincerity
That you have a lovely day
Knowing fully well that the days nearly over

Who cares to believe in memory lane
As children we care not to keep memories
As we run and play
Knowing how to walk and talk
Never forgetting names and places
Like the park with the lake
The swans, geese and ducks
The dog with three legs
The grandpa playing chess
And you can tell he’s awake
Even though he looks asleep
Because you just do
As you feed them bread
All of the animals in the park
Even the statues caste in stone
Like the gates
All majestic

Who cares to relive the past
He was three and she was four
All sweet and sour
Like the pudding on the stove
Made by a sister that cannot cook
As hard as she might wish
Constantly wishing that she might die
Yet stays up late
To read her book
Not sleeping till all the pages have sunk right down
To shed a tear when things are brown
To illuminate the dark light
That she says she sees
As much sense as that makes to me
It is compelling to find out
That she sees the night during the day
Leads me to wonder
Leads me to stray
To wonder whether she sleeps at night
Or whether that’s like day
Because the moon
Shines and sways
By the window
To us it is beautiful
But what ever we like
She opposes
Happiness and fun
Despair and glum
As simple as that
That factor worked out
She climbs to the rooftop
To get a better view of the ground
But as we all know
Common sense must prevail
And the best view of the ground
Is surly concrete bound

To forget such things are what memories are for
A contrast in contradiction
Explaining what cannot be explained
Not withholding the simple care
That that little boy is still with us
So do not even dare
To gossip
Such travesty
To make idle
Things that are precious
To some an all
Like the bone and marrow
May mean science to us
But hers saved mine and thine
So with such things in mind
We wine and dine
That our sisters died in vain
To save the heart and save the brain
To accomplish nothing
And become routine

I remember the arms we had
That helped us along
Grateful for the exchanges
Of clothes and cake
Of food that was properly baked
Mixed with nothing but honesty
And humble pie, with a hint of mint sauce
And we walked in fields of gold
I was five and you were six
I, a mother’s son,
Like never before
Gazing now at the night sky
In my eyes a death spurned once more
No hope but of kindness
Understanding the matter
Of the trip
You had wires into your bones
And now you needed me

I was obsolete and I was wise
I learnt from my sister
To stay in one place
Because you might not like you
But others did
I learnt from mother
Who said you always grew faster then I did
To appreciate life
Whatever it may be
It is nothing more then a piece of cake
A piece of clothe, a piece of coin
A piece of love, a piece of sharing
Empathy and ever enduring
And I sat on a cook’s grave
Crying like I do
Remembering the orchards
Of apple trees and leaves
The apple I have in my hand
When I ran and fell
Then got up and became brave
And found you wiping your tears
As I came in
Hiding something from me
Instead of telling me straight
That father died during the war
Because someone told him to go
That someone sat on a bench far away
In London perhaps
And told me father to go murder
People, for the better of all
And when he refused to kill the people
The people killed him

I was nine and you were ten
In bed by eight
And hoping and stirring in my heart
That everyone could care less
Like I did deep down
But in hospital
You fought hard and white coats did you proud
A miracle in the snow
We could run perhaps
Once again
Across the farmyard
In the midst of spring
A new year
Hardly daunting
I wasn’t sad
And I don’t know why people around me died
I was never bad
I was a good child
Everyone said so
And I thought so to
As I helped you out of your wheelchair
And pushed you on the swing
And the wind in your hair
And you wished you could run
I said nothing
But I thought instead
That you were running
All you had to do was close your eyes
And feel the wind
Don’t patronize the power of imagination
See the fields falling under the skin
See the blood seeping through
See why mother says not go into the field with no shoes on
And watch in dismay
As you open your eyes
That all is not well
I gave my marrow and
I gave my blood
But as the tree falls down
Late summer the next year
You are still in your wheel chair
God is cruel sometimes
If you believe in him
I believe in him
Because you do
Although I can’t see why
God would listen to you
With your hands clasped together
When he avoids looking at the state of your legs

I remember coming back from college,
Deciding not to go to university
I can’t live up to the hype
And going into the kitchen
With you crying
And she wasn’t even your mother
She was nothing but your nurse
She was mine
And she left me
And she left me for good
Not to go shopping
Not to go on holiday
Not even to runaway
But to the worst place you can imagine
But as the tears grew, breaking through rough terrain
Building with pleasure that no one wants
I thanked her
For not killing her self for me
For not dying for someone else
For not being extreme or different
For not being idle gossip
For dying because she was sick
Because I was coming to tell you
That I would stay at home
Not study and play
But I can’t do that
I remember thinking exactly that
I would live up to the hype
I thought as I went outdoors to cry some place else
Reaching for my new tree, so far away across the field
Breathing in deep, because that helps you see
I picked up the pace, because the tears were coming quickly
They were fast and thick
I begun running to find solitude
For peace, love and deprivation
I began running for love in the hope that at least you wouldn’t leave
I didn’t stop at the heart felt tree, it wasn’t the same
The words on the tree were never-fading, there was a lesson to be learnt from that
There was a lesson to be learnt from everything
From the stars above guiding me insane
From the oranges falling down
From the cages that wraps the animals at the zoo
I ran tired now for no particular reason
For no particular reason at all

Why do people walk down memory lane
When so much of it is worth regretting
For everything there is something opposing it
It can’t exist without the other
Up and down, above and below
You and me
As I returned nearly forty years later
An invalid as you are
Were still unmarried
You said nothing to my newly shaved face
But you touched my face
You made nothing of my cologne
Yet you took in a whiff of my skin
You heard little noise about me
And here you stood up, not sitting on me fathers handmade chariot
Recollecting the times when you were in a wheel chair
A miracle of your time
Surviving everything that was thrown in your wake
And as it happened I came at exactly the right time
Like clockwork you might say

I went down the corridor to the cupboard labelled memoirs
And spoke about it to a poet, who approached me on the street
For no apparent reason
Asking about my life
Offering me tea in return
And so I spoke
Throwing the gauntlet down
Challenging God
And the words spoke blue and white
A common favourite
I was to live like a beggar
Through my own choice
That much was true
There are opposites
And death is pretty much a deathly opposite
To the greatest miracle of all
Life itself
And to ponder it in dismay was a waste of it
And to waste it away like I did was cardinal sin
And to live in hope was not wrong
And God does not come into that equation
It is ours and ours alone
And now we step outside
And relive those days again
As old fools we might be
Not able to run anymore
Past the stump of old
Past the fields that were of barley now
Past the second tree in full bloom
In the summers eve
Reaching for a new tree
A third chapter in our life
This was by another tree
By a lake
A little girl sat on its branches
We never approached her
She was from the neighbouring town
As delicate as a leaf

I remember that night
When death was not a case for regret or upsetting one self
When you died of old age
You always grew faster then me
And the last few things you said changed me
Into a new man
The words being “I asked god, I prayed to god
Even if it’s the last thing I ever do please return to me what I have lost
Return me the seller’s boy,
And now I’m upset with him
Because it really is the last few days of my life
I can feel it in my bones
The bones with your blood
The body with your sister’s bones
The body looked after by your mother
The chair I sat in for half a century made by your father
And the mind, the one incomplete without you
She said as we made our way across the man made lake
Turning poetry into narrative, narrative into motion
In the boat made by the father, of the sellers boy
The last thing he ever did, before going away
And like that the night passed,
Death passed me another ironic and unwanted gift
Two deaths instead of one
I had tortured my self on too many nights
To pass this one
On a boat made for two

And now much later the poet speaks in my tongue
In the shape of a memory
And who cares to go down memory lane
If not theirs
The answer lies under the shade of the third tree
Hoping when drawing their last breath
Not arguing for once, on this issue anyway
That god exists
And hoping by all means
That at least their memory lives on.

fin

I'm compiling the list right now.

The entries this week

Dresden: Cristiano Ronaldo
Dresden: They call it the vuvuzela
Cyan: George Washington
Cyan: Ashes1396
Hey Monkey: Cyan Hobbes
ZephyrFate: ZephyrFate
Cyan: Adrian Brody
goldlion054: The girl at the grocery store
Melchiah: Beneath the flesh
Dresden: Alfarif
Alfarif: Uncanny
Alfarif: The Balloon
Plumbob: The Witches Wade South
Dartastic: Within - "Fear"
Bootaaay: Delirium Tremens
Bootaaay: Poor Gary Coleman
Ankitt: sightsee
kid ness: The Market
Dresden: Said the Monkey to the Monk
AnkitT: The circlejerk
hey_monkey: Just One
Ashes1396: und sex? (and sex?)

Voting reminder:
* Vote for your favourite poems.
* Voters should award first, second and third places to their favourite three poems. First place is allocated three points. Second place is allocated two points. And third place is allocated one point.
*Don't vote for the same author twice.
*You must vote to win.
*You don't have to enter a poem to vote.
You should get your votes in by: Sunday, June 27th, 2010 at 11:59pm, Pacific.

Non-eligible entries:
Ashes1396: Untitled the seller’s boy (fair warning: unabridged 1800 word poem)

Hm... I totally forgot about this. I blame Ashes!

Where've you been?