Story Board 2nd Annual Poetry Contest

[Barb Gordon]

All right, more than enough time has passed! We've had a bit of hiccups with getting the voting in for the first contest, but I decided that everyone has been waiting more than long enough for the second contest to come around. We're aiming to have the results of the first one up within the next week...but that shouldn't keep all you talented artists from getting to work your creative skills on the next contest!

So, onto the second poetry contest for the Story Board!

This month's theme is: Life/Death

You can write about either subject, or both, in whatever way you think of.

This month's style to write in is: Free Verse

As in writing unrhymed poetry with lines of varying length that have no specific metrical pattern.

You can submit as many poems as you would like, and the contest will run until the end of the month of August. Once the end of the month arrives, the chance to submit will be over, and the judging will begin. As is planned for the first contest's results, there will be a first, second and third place winning poet.

All poems are to be posted in this thread, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM myself or any of the other SB mods.

Let the poetry begin!

~Barb

[TimTwoFace]

I took the liberty of sticking this to the top of the page so it wouldn't get lost amongst the other posts as time goes on.

Sounds like fun, Barb. I'll have a poem up here in no time - and I'm sure plenty others will be doing likewise even quicker. Still can't wait to see the results of the first contest.

(But...an "annual" contest? I didn't realize a full year had passed since June. :D)

-Tim

[Barb Gordon]

You're not a SB mod, Tim. Thanks for the helping hand, but it was unrequired. Please don't take liberties next time with anything else. You've been told before.

Come on people, wake up and get those words flying!

~Barb

[Eddie G.]

Walk
The clock I ignore,
For I must walk.
The ticks and the tocks do not matter,
For I must walk.

People remind me of its face,
People ask me to join them,
As they quiver in terror in front of it.
But I must walk.

The road has bumps and I know,
That I will fall and not rise.
But that does not matter,
For I must walk.

Heh, it's okay for something I wrote on the spot. So come on more people post, don't let me win by default.:p

[Barb Gordon]

Yay for Blue Wolf! Going into the fray to get the ball rolling, thanks hon :)
And a great, short poem to start us off with for our Life/Death theme. Well done - and I hope to see more from you, and from all the others out there!!!!

~Barb

[TimTwoFace]

Well, I finally got down to business and set aside some time to write up a poem here. It's off the top of my head as well, and probably a bit rushed, but I hope it's fine. Enjoy...if you dare. :p

* * * * * * * * *

THE FOREIGNER


Monsters surround me.
Big ones, small ones.
Hairy beasts, slimy creatures.
All clones of each other.
Everywhere in this world I see them.
And they do all they can not to see me.

This is not my first contact with these beings.
I regularly make this bold trek on my journey home.
This is not undiscovered territory.

One of the monsters howls
Long and loud.
Others do likewise, joining the cacophony.
They speak in a tongue not native to this planet.
Foreign to my own,
Much more primitive.
I would laugh if I were not in such danger.

A short one in green with big ears looks clear through me.
It can read my mind.
It can see through my soul.
A nerve pinches in my neck.
Anxiety. Fear. Asthma.
If only I didn’t feel drawn to this place.
I must cling on to my couarge,
Cling on to my very being.

I still go unnoticed in this monster world,
This foreign place on my voyage home.
Years ago it was a place of comfort.
Now it is the home of my nemesis,
And the nemesis of my kind.
But I remain unnoticed.
Just as I had intended.

Then.
A tall figure,
The one in black,
Points at me. It breathes heavily.
“Red,” it breathes. “RED!!!”

The beasts turn their heads
Taking notice.
Red. I am wearing the violating colour.
Insurrection.
Red is the colour of blood.
Red is the colour of death.
Red is the colour of war.
Red is the bane of my humanity.

They move in my direction.
Noise arises.
My bones shudder.
My blood runs cold.
I feel sick.
Their Force is too great.

What on earth can counteract it?

A new hope.

Peace.

“Live long, and prosper.”

Pause.

“Get ‘im, Darth!”

The one in black,
The leader,
It breathes again.
And it comes for me.

The surrounding monsters,
Big ones, small ones,
Hairy beasts, slimy creatures,
All clones of each other.
Everywhere I look, I see them approaching.
Quicker. Faster. With long strides.
The clones are attacking,
Brandishing weapons that glow with light.

Banished I am,
Lest I want to fall to the dark side,
Lest I want to lose my own life,
My own meaning.
My exile.
They make it so.

I stand on the outside looking in.
I see them all together.
Buying. Selling. Trading. Conversing. Laughing.
Interacting.

I hate these damned comic conventions.

And why the heck do I always wear the red shirt? They’re always the first to get rubbed out.



-Tim

[Barb Gordon]

......innnnnteresting.
:p
Not sure how that was meaningful to the Life/Death scene....comic conventions are the essence of living....

Still, a very well written, long, and amusing poem.

*pokes dead poets with sharp pointy sticks*

I know the rest of you are still out there....I can hear you at the keyboard!

~Barb

[TimTwoFace]

Not sure how that was meaningful to the Life/Death scene....comic conventions are the essence of living....

Well you know me, I never do things the easy way. And the "death" thing was playing on the whole mentality that the nameless guy in the red shirt on Star Trek is always the first one to die when things go haywire. And I figured, hey, in all things Star Trek-esque, what is the greatest enemy of all? Obvious answer: Star Wars nuts. :D

The entire life of these geeks revolves around one of these two hobbies...or mythologies...or religions, even...and I figured that the Star Trek fandom has died off greatly since its inception (at least compared to the Star Wars fandom), so I've incapsulated that "death" in this story with the embodiment of this one character. :)

The death of a dream...the death of the popularity of Star Trek.

That, and I just wanted to mention Chewbacca's war cry in the story. That dang Weird Al "Star Wars Cantina" song has been on my mind a lot lately, so I had to channel it somehow!

And yes...where be the competition? Blue Wolf and I are looking for more people to do battle with. :D

-Tim

[Mr. Pedro]

Here's a little ditty about life and death (somewhat).

Be warned though, it's rather looooong. And a bit rough but, shoot.

That’s Livin’



It was a somber day in a Houston cemetery
The crowd had all gathered to mourn the loss
Of a wealthy oil man by the name of JR
A man who had achieved much in life
A man whose extravagance knew no bounds
Who had every vice at his fingertips
And the means to satisfy them all
And this may sound rather odd
But he was never truly pleased with what he had done
And never happy enough with whatever he had
He was never quite secure that he was truly alive
He was never sure if he was truly living

Having made a killing on his Texas Tea
He never had to work another day in his life
With nothing much to do
He searched for ways to fill the void
He loved cars
Limousines particularly struck his fancy
He purchased big ones, small ones
Black ones, white ones
He even had one made to suit his own tastes
Gold-plated body and rims
Bullet-proof, tinted glass
Drove smoothly, yet it flew like the wind
Not to mention the bull horns welded to the front
And the solid-gold steering wheel
And enough cup-holders for a small army
Yet as JR got behind the wheel of his dream machine
And as he sped off into the sunset
He felt something missing, the void still there
“This ain’t livin’” the muttered to himself

JR loved the ladies
The ladies loved the charismatic billionaire
They mostly loved the billions
But it was almost mutual
JR wasn’t picky when it came to women
Blondes, Brunettes, Redheads
Tall, small, long hair or short
Those with back and those with racks
Skin so soft or hard-bodied
In time, they would all end up in the same place
In the same four or so positions
Some would stay long enough to become wives
JR was on number eight when he had passed
Something funny to note
The older JR got
The younger the bride would be
At his last wedding
Moments before taking to plunge yet again
He gazed upon himself in the bathroom mirror
“This ain’t livin’” he said with a sigh

Feeling empty can be such a strain
For a fellow like JR this was unbearable
Pain would strike him
But there was little he could do to stop it
The least he could do was to visit the Doc
And for the right price
A bottle of blue pills that could take off some edge
A bottle of red ones to make the day brighter
And a bottle of green ones when bed time came around
Despite not feeling all too sick
The medication seemed to work
For a little bit
Then one day
JR helped himself to the multicolored snack
And his longing persisted
He was empty still
One could suppose that it didn’t help matters
That Doc got sent away
For handing out pills like Halloween candy
JR looked elsewhere to fill his void
He desperately tried anything
Some Acapulco Gold and a nice shot of Glass
Became vital for normal function
The needle and the rope
Were as common as a toothbrush and soap
A Speedball was good
For an empty thrill
And as he chopped up breakfast on a mirror
Starring at those tired, sunken eyes
“This ain’t livin’” he cried to himself

Then the day finally came
When Ol’ JR passed away
They gave his body a bath
Dressed it in the finest white suit
Laced up JR’s favorite pair of boots
And placed the classic Stetson hat upon his head
The choir sang as he was lowered into the grave
In his custom made, gold-plated limo
With him propped up behind that gold-plated steering wheel
And as this spectacle came to a close
As the limo touched the cold, damp earth
A normal looking fellow walked by
Looked into the grave
Took in the peculiar sight
And cried out loud
“Now that’s Livin’”

[Barb Gordon]

You weren't kidding Pedro...that was long!
And also utterly fantastic.
What a great, and sad poem. Nice descriptions and a solid theme all the way though. That was really swell. So far we are getting a really nice income of some great poetry works for this contest! Can't wait to see more!

~Barb

[Kylewayne]

Okay, I decided to join in on this second poetry contest although poetry writing is not my forté. This is a short one compared to the rest. Hope you all like.


My Life as a Rose

I am but a rose
In this fragile world

Born at dawn
Baptized by the sun
The world was soon in awe with me,
Nurtured and loved by Mother Earth
I bloomed into a beautiful red rose

My beauty faded as days went by,
Cruel Father Time had me hanging by one foot in the grave…
The next day I was gone, I was just dust in the soil of today.

My soul was dancing that night for all my friends to see,
Thanking them for the days they had spent with me.

[Barb Gordon]

bravo! It may not be your forte to you, but I still love it and think it's great! Sad, yet cheerful poem. Well written, with good use of imagery. Yay, four poems in so far!

~Barb

[TimTwoFace]

Wow Pedro, that was a long one. And I thought mine was getting long there. :D Good stuff, by the way. And while I never watched the show (and never learned who shot the guy), that was an homage to DALLAS, right? :) Great parrallelisms with the "that ain't livin'" mantra in every stanza.

Kylie, you got a nice little poem there, too. Forte or not, it was good stuff.

:)

I'm gonna miss not being able to read all the stuff that's gonna be posted here in the next week, but I'm sure it'll give us all some tough competition. I love these things. :)

-Tim

[Anime 51]

A truly lazy entry:

I eat food

It has gone bad

The rancid food kills me

[LightShadow1890]

I'll try, but I can't now. I'm busy with two stories I'm writing. One with an utterly massive writer's block for Ch. 2, and one I'm currently trying to finish to give it to a fellow member to beta-read.

LightShadow1890

[Storm]

This is my first entry to the poetry contest and I hope it's not my last. As you can see I just focused on the topic of death. I did this poem a few months ago and it was inspired by the character Buffy Summers and the other chosen slayers before her.


- Storm




For This I Know:


Written by Angel "Storm" Hardy



Death is my playground
For this I know
Death is my coming
For this I know

I was placed here in this world
To fight your battles
To spread the continuing cycle of fatality
They say I am chosen
They say I am indestructible
Then why do I feel so powerless?


I Live For You
I Kill For You
I Hurt For You
My fate in this world is limited
For this I know
My fate is the same as hers
For this I know

Death is my meaning
Death is my cause
Death is my peace
Death is upon me
For this I know

[Barb Gordon]

Storm - Grim, yet beautifull written, sweety! A great poem to throw you in with the other writers here....I hope that it will not be your last work shown around here!!!
A good, concise theme that you stick to thoroughly. For Buffy fans, it definitely brings to mind certain episodes and scenes depending on the line being read.
Nice work!

Anime 51 - .....lol. Perfect if not for its simplicity. Only running on 3 hours sleep inbetween two full workdays makes me appreciate your poem very much since it requires very little brain function to enjoy ;) Reminds me of Frank O'Hara poems actually....

LightShadow1890 - well, keep yourself busy hon! But hey, if you need a break from those two, a poem could always help to relax you, hehe.

6 entries thus far!


~Barb

[KitsuneSilver]

I wonder if I'm allowed to enter this time around, but...I'm doing it anyway. Because death is such a fun topic.

Pretty Crimson

The lonely years have come and gone
And I must apologize;
I think I may have missed them
As I watched life pass me by.
I've lingered in the shadows
And lost my last humanity.

No one's here to see me go,
I've got nothing left to cry for,
And nothing matters in the end,
But I don't really care any more.
There's no reason left and nothing
To hold on to, I can't keep my sanity.

Darkness ebbs and flows in tides,
As light eludes my frantic grasp
While life refuses to move on,
Though we knew that this would never last.
A stolen life, and the world went blind,
Abandoning the final scene.

But nothing’s left of me to save,
And solitude did rise above,
So I have just one more thing to say
As the darkness overcomes:
I couldn’t have been worth it, but
I wish you'd stayed to watch me leave.

[Anime 51]

Reminds me of Frank O'Hara poems actually....I don't think I've ever heard of him.

[Barb Gordon]

Then you have been saved, dear one. lol. Well, depending on how old you are, and how engrossed you are with reading all types of poetry....you probably wont learn about him till college. Frank O'Hara....he's an interesting poet. But I certainly enjoy him more than a bunch of 20th century female poets' works I had to read last year. He's a fun guy...very simple. A lot of his poems come from him just walking around New York, really basic stuff. It can be amusing to some that his stuff is even poetry, but I'd still recommend reading him for a larf.

Kitsune - as of yet I don't think we've thought over a rule excluding previous winners from entering again, nor do I think we will. I may enter a poem myself, but it will be irrelevant when voting comes around, because I will be one of the judges, lol.
As for death is fun well....lol....you are a strangeeeeeeee little creature ;)
Wonderful poem. An interesting take and a nice first person view. Very sad by the end.

Once again we've had a constant wonderful intake of some grade A poems for this second poetry contest. And I hope we get some more in before the month comes to close!

~Barb

[guinaevere]

First draft. But it's too much for me to even proof read it, as it was pretty tough for me to even write. I think the most fitting title I could give it is

Socks.
I'm sitting under some non-offensive, non-descript landscape
looking at the patterns in the floor tile
My eyes stinging, sore and tired.
a Devil is making fists inside of me
wrenching my stomach into twisted knots.
The woman next to me, I hold hands
and notice how small she is.
Her meaning in life is fleeting from her existance
and all I can do is hold her hands.
The scrawny, 11 year old boy is sitting quietly.
quiet.
quiet.
quiet.
It speaks volumes
saying he is not dealing with this terribly well.

Who is?
My father - is he -
and a god I never believed in, I'm pleading
bargaining with him.
a god I never believed in, help me!
All that I fear right now,
god that I never believed in, don't hate me!
But right now, the fear that beats in my head
like a drum
is
"I don't want to be homeless."
"How can we keep our home?"
"How can I think this?"

The woman sitting next to me made Shephard Pie for dinner.
It was the first time she tried it.
He never ate it.
Saturday morning we went to the mall.
I saw him from the second floor and waved.
But he didn't see me.
I wanted to shout out to him, so he'd see me waving.
He was walking so tall.
But there were other people around me
so I didn't shout. But I waved a little wave anyway.
And smiled.
My Daddy.
Yesterday, he came home from the Dentist with his new teeth.
or Caps. Or something like that.
And he was so happy with them. Two day old teeth
that smiled.

And a summer afternoon, he comes home early
and mows the lawn.
We wait to eat Shephard Pie with him.
He is in the basement, cooling off.
Becoming presentable for dinner.
13 steps away?
We eat dinner.
I put the chess board away, because he's still down in the basement.
And I go upstairs to play super mario brothers.
The woman he loved, his partner in every sense,
screams.
And I am bothered because I think it's a wasp in the house upsetting her.
but it isn't.
He is on the cold concrete floor of the basement.
He is cold an clammy.
And he's not there. That's not what my Father looks like.

I am under a nondescript landscape
looking at the patterns in the floor
and telling myself to think positively.
"He'll be fine"
but I saw him
"No, he won't."
At some point in the night, he is stabilized
and I and the woman next to me
are brought in to see him.
His feet aren't very well covered.
He's too tall for the hospital blankets.
And there are tubes in his nostrils
and his mouth
and his fingers
and arms.
And nerves in his face are twitching.
And this is not my Father.
do you even know I'm here?
I wrap my hand around a finger that doesn't have a tube in it.
And I tell him that all the flights out of D/FW were done for the night
but his oldest son is sleeping in the terminal, waiting for the first flight in the morning
and he loves him SO much, and will see him soon.
And I tell him that in the morning, when we come to see him, I'll bring
the Louis Lamour book he's been reading.
And I'll read it to you.
And I'll bring your best warm socks. The ones you bought last winter when we went skiing.
And the Harley Davidson socks I bought you that you're so fond of.
You'll look great, Dad. And your feet won't be so cold.

We are sent home.
I sleep in my parents room.
Did I fall asleep?
All I can remember is crying and fear.
But the phone rang. And it is hours after I looked at the clock.
And Dad isn't doing so well.
This is a trick.
This isn't right.
Around 4 am, the phone rings.
It has become a dirge of unspeakable disturbance.
And my Father.
He's dead.







And Dad, I'm sorry I've still not gotten to school.
I want to. But you always were a good son to your mother.
How can I not be a good daughter to mine?
You know her.
Sometimes I want nothing but to strike out on my own.
To do what I know I can.
To do what you knew I could.
And it frustrates me when people tell me to do this.
That she'll be okay.
You were always a good son to your mother.
How can I not be a good daughter to mine?
Sometimes I want nothing
but to hear you
say
You're proud of me anyway.

[kat_meditating]

ok guys this was kinda well....inspiration lets say. and this is for Aric my really good buddy and to the cold wind that came through my window the other night.


Simple

An autumn breeze flows through my hair.
A dim star shines above us.
A black dog howls on my left.
A white cat meows on your right.
A baby cries for its mother
A car whizzes by.
A lame joke from you.
A little smirk from me.
For a moment everything is still.
And then again the autumn breeze flows through my hair.

What is Life?
Is it the steady rise and fall of your chest?
Or the crimson pulsing in my ears?
Maybe life is just the simple things.
The sky, the moon, the stars.
Your voice, your touch, your presence.
My hate, my love, my sorrow.
The simple things that form one complex system
To which there is only one escape.
One and only one- Death.

You assume we have plenty of time together.
But what if we don’t.
If I died right now, would you care?
Just dropped dead in the hall,
Or suddenly slumped over my desk cold and stiff.
If I left this system we call Life,
Would you remember me when I resided in Death?
Would you hate me for leaving you to battle Life with the others?
Or would the others eventually take my place?
Two years from now, would you still think of me?
Or would even the memory of my face have long ago disappeared?
Would I still live on in your heart?
Or would I be just another female from your child hood?
Just another friendship that was shot down, drown, and destroyed.

It was just an everyday autumn breeze that flowed through my hair.
And yet, it could have been the one who ever remembered me.

[Shnay]

I just came across this thread (I don't frequent the story board) and thought it was very interesting. Here's something that I worte a little while ago, and tweaked a bit for this occasion. Enjoy.

Leaves of Autumn

Strewn dead leaves
Scatter beneath the feet of
Unheeding children

The leaves’ slow, dry crunch
Under their shoes,
A painful moan made to deaf ears

Barren trees cry silent tears,
Mourning the loss
Of their tiny children

Leaves that were once
Green, vibrant, beautiful,
Now lie withered and lifeless

The frigid winter winds
Will soon begin the funeral procession
For the leaves of autumn

And the trees will watch on
As the discolored remains of the leaves
They once held so close are taken away

Soon, the departed leaves of autumn
Will be replaced by the
Leaves of Spring

And the children will then
Lavish their attention
On the pristine Spring creations

But the brilliant Leaves of Spring
Are only future
Leaves of autumn

[Zapages]

As I look back at timeOriginally written in German:


Als ich sehe die Zeht
Alle ich sehe Leid, Krieg und Tod,
Ich sehe junge Soldaten spazierend zum Krieg
Ich sehe sie im Spannkraft und Begeisterung
Ich sehe sie die Ehre des Landes verteidigen

Ehre im Auge von Einem

Ich sehe sie toll im den Schützengraben
Ich sehe sie toll im F-16
Ich sehe sie toll im dem U-boot
Ich sehe sie toll im den Großstädten

Ich sehe sie ihre Geliebten wegen ihrer tolles Soldaten
Ich sehe sie ihre Geliebten wegen des Schreckens im Krieg
Ich sehe sie ihre Geliebten wegen Aufopferungen die der Krieg bringt

Als ich sehe
Als ich die Erde verlasse
Als ich die Erde verlasse, ich gehe mit der Spannkraft meiner Religion und meines Landes


And the Translation:

When I see the Time
Everything I see is sorrow, war and death
I see young soldiers going to the war
I see them walking it in courage and enthusiasm
I see them fight for the honor of the country to defend to honor in the eye of one

I see them in trenches
I see them in a F-16
I see them in an u-boat
I see them in the large cities

I see their loved ones in sorrow for their dead soldiers
I see their loved ones frighten by the war All this because their loved ones have seen all the sacrifices that the war brings

As I leave
As I leave Earth
As I leave Earth, I left this planet for my Religion and my country

Was it worth it?


-Zapages

[Outlander00]

Okay okay... it took me some time, but I finally have one :p

Life Is

How does one define “life”?

Many have written about it, yet no one can come to a concise definition of what “life” is.

And, to tell you the truth, there is no such thing…

...one that cannot be written or spoken in any way, at least.

Life is what you experience everyday, from big to small.

Life is all around you, whether you acknowledge it or not.

Life is love, and to be cherished with every waking moment.

Life is loyalty, both to friends and loved ones because they’ll always be there for you.

Life is pain… something unavoidable if we are to become stronger and grow.

Life is loss, and is needed to make us appreciate what we have.

Life is wondrous for everything there is to be experienced and more.

Life is beautiful and will pass you by if you let it.

Life is precious, and needed to be treated with care.

Life is everything I have described here and more, but most importantly…

Life is short, so always experience it as if this day will be your last.

[Kylewayne]

Nice poem Outlander!

I know you are out there people! Enter the poem contest, do not be shy! Do not make me send Barb Gordon after you!:D

[Outlander00]

Nice poem Outlander!

I know you are out there people! Enter the poem contest, do not be shy! Do not make me send Barb Gordon after you!:D
Thank you, kw! :D

Yes... Barb is much like Lobo when it comes to getting her man... or woman... or it... or whatever... :sweat:

[guinaevere]

Enter the poem contest, do not be shy!I'm sure this has been stated somewhere, but for the life of me, I can't find the official answer. May an entrant submit more than one poem per month?

[TimTwoFace]

Hey Gwenbo, regarding your question about submitting numerous pieces of poetry:



You can write about either subject, or both, in whatever way you think of.
I guess that pretty much implies multiple poems, as Barb mentioned in her first post in the thread. I know that in the first one held here that some folks posted more than one entry, so I don't see why not.

But mayhaps an SB mod should jump in to make absolute clarification, just to be on the safe side. :)

-Tim

PS - I don't know if saying I "loved" your poem is right in this context, but I read it and after realizing what you're talking about and how you put it on the page, and how it's set in realism (which was unbeknowst to me on the first reading), I thought it was very well done.

[guinaevere]

Hrmm... I took that as being able to use both concepts in ONE poem. So, yeah, it would be nice to have the official word. :)

[Barb Gordon]

We allow a lot of freedom with these, aside from naming the style and theme. It's up to the writer to use either part of the dual theme, or the entire theme if they so wish. You can also enter as many poems as you desire. Hope that clarifies things!
I've been sick for over a week, so I've fallen behind on reading the boys...but wow we've got so many more!!!! I can't wait to get a moment, hopefully later today, to read through them all, they look great.
Everyone has about a week left to keep entering, so please don't stop yet!

~Barb

like Lobo eh? It's all about the motorcyle, guys dig the motorcyle, baby ;)

[sKorpia]

Cycle

A sparrow alights,
bursts into flame,
crumbling slowly,
alive and reddened.
A flame, a beak
and fiery eyes of coal.

red essence rises
through a curved lens
Magnified.

She soars
rips a tear in the fabric of time
flies back on wings of fury

Re-entry

The phoenix crumbles
as the flames diminish;
soft brown from ashes
and a sparrow alights
with eyes of fiery coal.

[Nick K.]

Great poems guys!

Passing By

Passing by my favorite tree
I see it in all its splendor
The leaves that the wind blow perfectly
Bark that is so sturdy
Roots that have branched out.

My tree has died.

Passing by my favorite tree
I see it dead
No leaves to blow
No sturdy bark
The roots have been torn out of the ground.

I am incontinent.

Passing by my favorite tree
I weep for it
I see others disheartened
I am in a pain I know too well
And I must cry

I need freedom.

Passing by my favorite tree
I can see I am dead inside
I am suffocated by the absence

What is a tree?

[Barb Gordon]

Awesome! Glad to have gotten in a few more. Remember everyone, the deadline is tomorrow, August 31st by Midnight. Don't forget it! If you still want to throw in a few more entries, please do so!
After the deadline, the poems will be gathered and the judges will begin judging sometime next week.
I want to thank all those who have participated thus far, because all of you have once again made the poetry contest a very worthwhile and successful endeavor!!!

~Barb

[Nick K.]

On My Plate

A steak lies on my plate
Ready to be eaten
Pierced with a knife

Bit by bit it goes away
Its juices dissapear
Mass decreases

Now my steak is gone
It will never return
The time has come

[Storm]

Flock of Lost Souls

I've been told to have faith in you
However my faith is lost in an odyssey of sorrow
She told me she only had a month to live
Expecting me to be there to deal
Was there something I did wrong?
Was there something I said?
Why are you trying to punish me with this lost?
Oh God I just don't understand

I tried my best to hold on strong
I feel like my soul is burning into a pile of ashes
She was the only thing in my life that was worthy
She was the only thing I woke up to see in the morning
And you took her away from me
Oh all mighty God, what do you have to say now?

I'm so confused
I don't quite understand
Why do the good die young?
While the evil stay flourished in your good care?
She loved me
She made me feel like I was doing good in this world
And you took her away from me
And you took her away from me

So I lie here
So I cry here
I'm just apart of the flock of lost souls
Who've lost their cherished loves
I'm still pondering
I don't quite understand
Why do the innocent perish?
While killers and sinners still walk on this land?
She believed in me
She made feel like I was headed to greatness
And you took her away from me
Stupid death took her away from me




- Angel Hardy, 2004

[Barb Gordon]

Always glad to get a few more in before the deadline, which is less than TWO hours away.
Again I thank over and over everyone who has submitted a work(s) into this contest, and I know the judges are eager to look over them all.
I ask that everyone be patient with the judges. I will try to get the results done by the middle or end of September, and no later than that. But please remember that like you, the judges have daily lives that can sometimes take up a lot of time. I'm back in school as a Junior in college, as I know other people are back in school or starting new jobs. But we will definitely aim to get them out as soon as we can! As before, the judges will consist of two Story Board moderators, as well as two regular members (who may or may not be moderators of other TZ forums).

~Barb

[Barb Gordon]

Okay, it is now September 1st, and submitting is closed!!! Thanks to all writers that joined in on this contest...I hope to see you all again for the third poetry contest - and if anyone has suggestions for themes are poetry style, feel free to mention them!
Judging should begin in a week's time.

~Barb

[Barb Gordon]

Hey all!
Just giving an update to let all the entrants know that judging has begun. All the judges have been sent the poems, and they're looking over them now. Again as I've said before, please bear with us because everyone has busy lives and two judges always do this out of the kindness of their hearts :)
Hopefully results will be gathered in another week or so, then the winners will be announced, goodies given, and the third contest begun!

~Barb

[guinaevere]

I have what is probably a very stupid question.

In post 38, it says that voting is closed. And post 39 almost 2 weeks later, it says that judging has begun.

I know I'm goofy on medication right now, but did I miss something? Is voting different than judging? If so, how and who voted?

[Eddie G.]

I have what is probably a very stupid question.

In post 38, it says that voting is closed. And post 39 almost 2 weeks later, it says that judging has begun.

I know I'm goofy on medication right now, but did I miss something? Is voting different than judging? If so, how and who voted?I'll take a shot in the dark and guess that voting means entering the contest.

[Barb Gordon]

lol, well I could lie and make you blame your goofy medication. But it was just a human error (sorry I'm not a cool robot....yet) in writing, a typo! It should have read Submitting or something like that...well, I've changed it so it does say that now, lol.

~Barb

[guinaevere]

Thanks for the info, Barb! And I think we all prefer your human form to any robotic knock-off. :D

[Barb Gordon]

I know it's been a long delay, but I want to thank everyone for being so patient!! As in, no posting over and over again about when the judging will be done :p That was very considerate of everyone, it really was.

But it has been delayed for good reason...it's hard to judge! These poems were really quite spectacular, and it was very hard near the end for the four judges to agree on a top three. There were so many poets that had produced amazing works for this contest, and all of us had different ones we wanted to acknowledge.

We're finalizing the results now, and the avatar prizes are being created....expect the winners to be announced Monday, October 4th!

Once the winners of the second annual contest are announced, I will be putting up a new kind of contest for this month...

~Barb

[Barb Gordon]

The prizes are made and the winners have been chosen.

...but I'm at school and don't have access to the prizes :sweat:

Winners will be announced and prizes displayed before 10pm PST.
The next contest has been settled upon as well, so expect that announcement around the same time.

~Barb

[Kylewayne]

We are sorry folks for the delay! *hugs all members* Thank you for your understanding =)

[TimTwoFace]

*LOOKS LEFT*

*LOOKS RIGHT*

*TILTS HEAD TO SIDE*

*PURSES LIPS*

*SLY EYES*

*TAPS FOOT*

(No pressure. :))

-Tim

[Barb Gordon]

*breaks Tim's tapping foot*

Do us a favor, Tim...don't be a cutesy smartarse.

Results will be up in an hour. The server I use to upload images is down, so Matt is uploading them for me.

~Barb