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| How to Join | Member's Area | Private Library | Search | Sanctuary | Login | |
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| Main Forums | Discussion | Tech Talk | Mature Content | Archives |
A home without a wall, |
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| Poetry Challenge! |
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A pertinent challenge: |
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oceanvu2 Senior Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 1066Santa Monica, California, USA |
A pertinent challenge: Put up the best poem you think you've ever written. No judgement allowed in comments, no "winners or "losers." It's about saying "This is as good as I get." What do you want to see in your anthology? Best, Jim |
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| © Copyright 2007 Jim Aitken - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Edward Grim Senior Member
since 2005-12-18
Posts 1154Greenville, South Carolina |
Groovy challenge Jim. Well, I couldn't decide so here's two (you know how much I love to break the rules). I've been told by my close friends that these two are my best. And I'm still working on publishing my anthology and these two are in it, so, here they are: The American Dream The happy people… Sadness strict like a whip, cracks like your mom’s China from Turkey. Like a working computer at times of jerking from a dirty web page, and online flirting. Happy… Funny melancholy, frowning like your dad when his lover is itching and your Mom knows the lady because tomorrow they’re playing bridge. ______________________________ Up the Bum He had a smoke and mirrors look to his face. Not that he was mysterious, but rather a man like myself. Not me in senses and living but in likenesses of Narcissus. Resembling those memories of Sisyphus rolling a burning joint of fire-producing glands; burned by one too many suit monkeys. Human remains to be chewed by good ‘ol boys with claws out their mouths. Meant for the textile-producing malice machines. Calculators made to be our friends but still screwed us intensely and intensely again. I want to feel enclosed and trapped in something. ‘Cause there’s nowhere else to live but this rotten apple with the segmented beings of obscurity. A world cast away from me, a state of indifference that’s still native in feeling, indigenous to the outward coast of warm and fuzzy things. Tape deck ice-skating on the Kodak reminder-maker swallowed whole, engulfed into body factions to reinforce muscle memory. Makes us remember the people we used to know, to write them gift cards for their set of last birthdays. In tribute to good ideas, something or another with plural nouns will make them seem like notions with substance, thoughts less radical and unable to be challenged by those who think logically. Certain lines of concepts will be left for eating, and the rest: Flotsam and jetsam in the sea of stupidity, thinking for the gasses of people; bleeding juices secreting babies, teething for freebies and other forms of American culture. "Well I wish that you would cheat with someone, 'cause you're like diggin' holes in water and we know that can't be done." |
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oceanvu2 Senior Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 1066Santa Monica, California, USA |
Edster: I'd be proud of these, too. Sick old Jimbeaux |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Weird. I was just thinking about this, and I don't know that I have a whole poem I could call a favorite, but there's two lines from an old poem that I thought I might elaborate on: "A rose in full drops a petal and yearns to be all together." This is a hard question for me though. I never seem to know when or if I "hit a homerun." |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This one is kind of the same mood, and since I'm obsessing with personification of late: Last Call (for an Autumn Leaf) The bar (go to the bar old girl) at least her elbow knows the way her body floats the floor of rust and greengold is the memory verdigris of summering - burnished brass--the color took-- thank the gods that veins are "in" thank goddess they can't see her ass quivering in too-thin skin as her August king salutes. He poured her shot of tanqueray-- watching sadly as she drank. Autumn is the color bruise digging through the past for change to make it happen or pretend that she be tender green again licking eagerly a-thrush the bottom of the glass. "Again?" Winter turned his back and then he turned the bright whites on... |
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Dee Member Elite
since 2000-08-19
Posts 2330Queensland, Australia |
The best I've ever written? Depends on my mood. Its a toss up between /main/forumdisplay.cgi?action=displayarchive&number=69&topic=001187 and /main/forumdisplay.cgi?action=displayarchive&number=70&topic=002004 Dee Stand straight and tall, not the reflection as others see you, but as you truely are. Clearwater |
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SEA 
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
I would rather have folks here pick two of mine they like best.  I have no idea...I like all the ones I write(because they are my emotions), but beauty is in the eye of the beholder...so? I have no clue what my "best" are. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Jim- I don't know whether I should thank you for giving me the inspiration to go back through my collected works on this site, or hate you for forcing me to go back and relive all the garbage I have put on the blue pages. lol I think I'll go with the thanks. As I am my own worst critic, I would hesitate to pick my "best"; however, I will put the few I remember beiong really proud of at the time they were written: Fighting The Dragon Concrete Matress Imagine I hope they find their approval with those assembled. And SEA??? I have always truly enjoyed this one: Whispered On The Wind What would you attempt to do...if you knew you could not fail?. |
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SEA
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
awww really? That is cool...  |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
An interesting challenge, but I agree with Sea, I can never figure this out. After I post them I always see what is wrong with them. |
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Ethan Halo Senior Member
since 2000-04-28
Posts 793on the roof again |
*bittersweet* blood and rainbows; all i see and this is my apology it wasn't supposed to get out of hand you were just supposed to understand and all your smiles can't save this hurt all i wanted... and all the lines get a little blurred all i wanted... and i'm not sure that my heart can convince my nerve the memory starts to fade the dreams turn into stains a bittersweet eulogy blood and rainbows; all i see i don't want your sympathy lonely mornings from last night's lust the guilty flowers have turned to dust all the days you left me here all i wanted... last night's promises in my ears all i wanted... confusion clears and i'm left choking on the fear the memory starts to fade the dreams turn into stains a bittersweet eulogy blood and rainbows; all i see still the pain shows through the seams technicolor dreams of you and me on a black and white reality and now i see we'll never be the things i thought we were it's killin' me, but i believe that the world is still pure words unspoken, rip me open now i'm dying on the bedroom floor blood and rainbow's symphony a bittersweet cacophony The soul is oftentimes a battlefield where reason and judgement wage war on passion and appetite. |
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oceanvu2 Senior Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 1066Santa Monica, California, USA |
My goodness! Excellent choices all around so far. Even though there is no "grading" in this challenge, I think you guys have been of a great roll. Best, Jimbeaux |
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Callista Member
since 2008-10-05
Posts 63USA |
My first adult attempt- a prolonged labor. That is why I love it so (as only a mother could). Candela You go about the daily business of your life gulping great gusts of air, emitting an exquisite light. I marvel- I marvel You are a lovely luminary. Bioluminescence is your birthright; You are heir to the contained and continuous explosion of the Sun. -nitrogen-calcium- carbon- You are star stuff in singular form. Me? I swim my murky night-cave. Sallow blinded by a dismal, despairing darkness. Memories of what i used to see return to stab my heavy (my hungry) heart. And yet, and yet... I marvel at my sighted offspring- I marvel at your light. "The Moving Finger writes, and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line.." |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
I Am Here I am here Yes, I will hug you If that fits your needs. I can hold you close, And silently share your grief. I don't mind watching over you, as I sit listening to your silence. My pain is as deep as yours, As I have been in that darkest place. So yes, rest your head ~ My shoulders are broad and strong. I can handle horrid details, It sometimes needs to be said out loud. Spill over with black bile, I can sponge it off. Then we can go on together...... But until I see some small sign from you, That I am wanted I stand timidly by your side. I can not read so well, That I can meet your needs. Help me please So I won't walk away. Without you ever knowing.. I was there. with love, marty (I wrote this in answer to a poem written in anguish about the sudden death of her son in a car accident) |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
I think people judge their "best" or their "favorite" by the thoughts and feelings behind them that went into their creation and not their "acceptance by others" abilities, which is as it should be. I remember Streisand at a concert announcing that she was going to sing her "favorite song" which turned out to be a song I'd never heard her sing before but, despite all of her million-sellers, that was the one she liked best. Ringo, I like the middle one very much. I'd like it more if you correct the spelling in the title  |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Because this is a subjective task here is my second pick (still looking for my first...): oh and I chopped 2 stanzas from this. I have ran naked from house to house Looking for the home that should have been there from the start Looking for the protection of parents that see beyond themselves Pleading with tired eyes for some sort of recognition That I am more important than the flesh they see I ran naked with head held high Screaming the injustice of just living In a world full of greed, impatience and lust Trying to break us, trying to make us Into something reflected in their own mirror I walk naked to show off the wounds and scars Of not giving in to the consensus of this tormented world To show all that will look at my hideous scabs That I can be brought to my knees but never for longer Than it takes to weep for your blackened soul I walk naked through life To show you I have nothing to hide And I still walk with pride because I can cry for you, but never will I Give in "too bad ignorance isn't painful" ~Unknown~ |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Finally found my favorite: It’s taken all this time for me to see, all this time for understanding to creep in There were days when the hate consumed what was left of me I cursed you, punished you a million times over as I lay in bed all the time screaming that I should have left you for dead, knowing in your mind that would have been better than the current shape you’re in Hurting me Leaving me blind Shoving me so far away Nothing seemed easy to find and I could finally see what wasn’t good for me It’s a knowledge that ate away at my best intent; a relentless voice scratching at my brain I couldn’t make the wars in your head cease firing I couldn’t make the self inflicted wounds heal so I buried the failure and blamed it on whatever felt real feeling somewhere below the surface it was I who was responsible for all this pain Hurting me Leaving me blind Shoving me so far away Nothing seemed easy to find and I could finally see what wasn’t good for me So with aching eyes and bleeding heart I listened to you say goodbye Wishing you could recognize, that being here, even like this, was my life I lost a part of me when you decided you couldn’t be what I needed Three months of silent begging of the phone and self-hate for so easily having conceded Three months of asking myself how you could so effortlessly cease to try Hurting me Leaving me blind Shoving me so far away Nothing seemed easy to find and I could finally see what wasn’t good for me "too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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Lucie Senior Member
since 1999-06-20
Posts 1077Houston |
I haven't posted in a long time. I'm a quiet visitor now. As I was telling my daughter though, the best poems I have ever written were challenges given by my fellow poets. This one was a challenge given long ago by "Hoot". Thanks for letting me revisit some memories. "The Little King" Once there lived a little boy, a shy and quiet child. Often he was overlooked his sibling kind of wild. He traveled through each day in life in quiet fantasy. Of knights in armor, far off lands and kingdoms make believe. He built a castle in his mind with motes around its wall. A drawbridge he alone controlled, which no one crossed at all. He was an evil wicked King his reign was far and wide. Strong character he presented all to hide the fear inside. In mind he wove elaborate tales of dragons he would slay. The other kingdoms he would seize and belong to him someday. But he was caught quite unawares when down the road did stroll. A bent and wicked little woman, (such an awfully ugly troll). She hollered up to him across the mote filled with shark fin. My name is Elizabeth, I’m your sister… let me in! The little King he rolled his eyes with exasperated moan He yelled over his shoulder.. Mom! She won’t leave me alone. Oh I forgot to tell you all about the mother Queen. She was the only person he allowed inside his dream. She was a kind and gentle soul and seems to understand. That Christopher needed privacy in his far off kingdom land. So she hollered from the kitchen of this castle in his mind. That if Beth didn’t step away, she’d have a sore behind. Go away and leave him be, he doesn’t bother you. I’ll make you scrub the dungeon, go find something else to do. The little King puffed up his chest allegiance did he vow. And claimed that if it took all day, he’d repay the Queen somehow. So off in search of tribute to his mother Queen he went. And brought back to her a flower, a small dandelion, (bent). But in his eyes she saw the dozen roses that he gave, bent and kissed the little King, promising to always save. You see the little King's big heart wasn’t really all that mean, But big sisters they just can’t view, what’s seen by mother Queen. |
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