THE ULTIMATE BATTLE OF POETS.

*15 POEMS SUBMITTED TOTAL. ROUND 1 CLOSED*

Hello everyone! Welcome to "The Ultimate Battle of Poets" this is the start of the THIRD site contest. The wonderful Silvershoes, Jane, just took the title of masterpoet and within the next month another spectacular poet will arise and defeat all the other poets in this "ultimate" battle! It looks like this has been a huge hit and everyone is enjoying it, so it has been decided that we will keep it going! Sounds as though a lot of you are ready to start writing, so I will post the rules then round one below! They are quite similar to the previous contests, but it will be worth your time to read through them so that we all follow the same rules! Thank you and lets begin!

RULES
1) Poems must be new. Please don't post on your account until the whole contest is over.
2) One poem per participant per round.
3) Poem must follow the theme selected for each round. There will be FOUR rounds.
4) Each round will last 7 days. Poems must be submitted to me via PM strictly within 5 days of the start of a new round to qualify. The poems will then be passed on anonymously to the judges. Judging will last 1-2 days.
5) A percentage of winners from one round will move on to the next until a winner is chosen. Identities of all participants will be revealed after contest is complete. (Anyone with concerns can PM me).
6) If you do not wish for your poetry to be publicly analyzed, please specify that when submitting your poem.
7) You may NOT share or reveal any of the participants of this contest (including yourself) until AFTER the contest is completely over!

Round one is fairly simple and open to everyone on the site! I figured I'd throw an incentive in to get you all writing, 3 bonus points to the first poem submitted! Have fun & happy writing!

You have until this SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 14TH, 9PM CENTRAL TIME. Please send your poem to me via PM when finished! Thank you! :)

Any questions, feel free to post them here.

------------------------------------

Round 1 - FREE FOR ALL!

*Anything is acceptable. Any form, any style, any length, any genre. Rhyme or no-rhyme. Free verse and prose are also acceptable.

BONUS POINT:
*First poem submitted (3 points)

Oh boy. I feel as if I've been writing endless amounts of poetry lately.
Here I go.

First poem submitted yet?

Haha, nope!

It is such a relief that someone else is doing this now. Good luck, CD! It is a lot of fun.

You know, more people complained to me about lack of inspiration when it was the first free round than any other round. Apparently, it's hardest when you have nothing to go on.

I feel sorry for the poor fools that are still sleeping in the backward parts of the world that aren't yet aware of the bonus point opportunity here. HA!

Who will be the first to submit a poem? When will it be? Has someone already submitted one? Perhaps those 3 bonus points have already been rewarded to a brave poet, or maybe, it's still up for grabs. Will the wonderful poets of P&Q step up and beat the "record" of 13 poems being submitted in a site contest? Only time will tell...

I see we have a new contest! :] Already wondering who will take part in this tournament and who will get those dang bonus points. :]

The comedic poet from the previous contest has struck again! This is what they have to say...

Three bonus points
only three?
what good will they
be to me!

This short poem
will get no more
before I'm surely
shown the door.

So I hope this poem
is the first
even though I'm sure
it will be the worst.

I'll take three points
and head out west
so the judges are left
to choose the best!

That's a fairly simple poem and if that is the first one I congrat you on the bonus points lol

Hahah oh i loved that lol...no one's funnier than D NALLEY Tho. :p

The poems are starting to trickle in! I'm impressed at how many have been sent in already within the first full day. Keep them coming everyone!

When I find my trig notebook, I will send mine in. I have a pretty good one I've been working on in there. :)

Alright, got mine sent in!

The more the better :)

From the feedback I received publicly and through PMs from the last tournament, this should be a mammoth battle. Get ready for heaps of stellar poets participating in a very competitive contest from all corners of the site.

Yeehah! Let the guns blaze! (In a peaceful, poetry-loving sort of way.)

"In a peaceful, loving-sort of way" Belay that, let the guns run free. XD

I Like :)

You have TWO days left. Poems are due to me at 9pm central time Sunday night!

Shaking in me boots.

I'm really glad you got me to enter this! I havent written something in AGES, and this defs helped me get back on it :D kudos to you!

Lol lol @ britt

We have to make that a rule, I guess. Or maybe these people are just trying to tease the judges? Who knows! We'll find out whose telling the truth and who is not later on!

14 1/2 HOURS REMAINING TO SUBMIT POEMS FOR ROUND 1. Remember to send them to me via PM.

Are you crazy! The pug is Freckin AWESOME!!!! XD

Lol hellon, what has the avatar of Jacey's profile..anything to do with the contest ?

lol..she got the cutest puppy ever; even a very shy one;
doesn't like cams either :P

I doubt the avatar will reflect anything that's related to the contest..or effect it.

>personally i like it a LOTtTtT

Secrecy is the best.

NEW RULE #7, everyone please read.

Dagum it. I guess a hush will fall upon the audience and even those participating. Also read rule seven and I think it is a good thing to have to protect the innocent and guilty XD

Blehh, I don't like the secrecy thing. It makes the end more exciting, but for the month prior, it makes the boards more quiet.

I see, thanks for a good description of that, Britt. Appreciated it. :]

As I post this, there are 5 1/2 HOURS meaning until round one closes. I'll leave everyone with the 14 poems that have been submitted thus far, some of you may read them for leisure, or perhaps some may find some quick inspiration and enter before round one is up. Either way, here they are!

Deaf. (The Florette)

Embedded and adhered inside,
Torn and chaffed with blood that had dried.
Clotting and thrashing deep within,
Pounding laughter's against her skin, she in pain, cried.

Tweezers and suctions in their hands,
Piercing and clawing to command.
Flouting and neglecting her shouts,
Assuring it'll be taken out, "Please understand".

Sedating and calming her down,
Grip and clasp as they play around.
Confining and fencing her there,
Watching as she lays in despair, bearing hell's frown.

Sorry and strained, admitting fail.
Pinned and rigid, they had to bail.
Weeping and dismayed in her state,
Thinking deafness may be the fate she will now veil.

The Florette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more 4-line stanzas.

Rhyme scheme: a,a,b,a
Meter: 8,8,8,12
Fourth line requirement of internal (b) rhyme scheme, on syllable 8.

-------

A New Kind

A stuffy bar with women strewn
across the stools,
and a man leaned against a wall
in a corner
watching for a sign to move.
The lights are low, the mood is dim;
the stage is set for a string of
lonesome hearts to
collide.
Through the misty fog of wine
and cheap perfume,
there's not a soul to make me
notice.
There's not a person in
the room.

A friend's voice is harsh
across a pool of rattling mirth,
scuffling chairs and blues chords
reverberating
from speakers on the walls.
Grinding against the panels of
my brain,
I try to block it out -
just enough that I can still
catch the tones and nod
accordingly.

I used to feel at home in these
rowdy messes of people, all
messed up like me,
but the age in my wisdom
and the years in my days
have made me tired of fitting in
with rebels and rules.
Tired and
jaded and
blue.
There's a new kind of sadness
that fills me up, and it's
older than the rest.
It belongs to a person who is
ready to lose.

-------

Twin

Walking together down a path crowded with moss,
white oaks, and thorny bracken we pause,
alerted to a rustle in the blanketing of
brown, brown leaves.

A deer bounds across the gap, and another
in its wake - twin sable things, moving like
quick breaths in the brush.

One leaps, and I swear it hangs
for a moment in the air, legs taut,
neck arched, looking like a crescendo
of music and all the world's
brightest poetry.

I try and fail to express
that I have never seen,
out in the muddy world, such a clear and
perfect image
of what happens in the lovestruck leaping
of my heart.

-------

Change

How things change...
From love songs written on
summer beaches to deception
laced with betrayal.

A bare heart ready for the break
forms when real emotions
are forgotten. I wish I could
embrace the flowers you use to
send me instead of the darkness
that follows the ghost of my memory.

What happened to us my dear?
This is crazy how my own instinct
didn't warn me about the evil hidden
behind this storm, this hurricane
happening in my own heart. Unknown--
this trapped zombie like state
of pain that follows me over
every bridge I need to cross.

Where's the peace and humanity
that use to be inside of us?
These screams hold more
doses of Novocain then the average
needle and I need a double overdose
just to remember what we were before
this change.

-------

Taken

I read a book that spoke of love
But found it condescending
All the love I thought I knew
Did not seem unending

Claimed forever and a day
Did not see tomorrow
Though my love has never died
It has filled me with sorrow

A sweet kiss from the lips of love
A warm caress from death
Both exist inside a world
That coldly steals your breath

I watch my lover, love another
That wasn't in the book
It only spoke of what love gave
Never what it took

-------

Adolescence

it's as if the glare from the fuelling sun
is now brighter than i ever thought it could be,
- burns like cigarette smoke, hitting my lungs
like fire and magic and purity,
like seeing something brand new
for the very first time

his neck is burned from that sunlight,
blistering, oozing new life from one
that's already witnessed too much -
he loves my sister,
massages the palm of her hand with
his fingernails,
but one day he'll love me

my breasts are tender,
i've never noticed this before
and love and sex and "grown up talk"
no longer make me clench my eyes
and groan; frustration
and a lack of understanding, of age

he smiles, i can smell his scent,
mixed with sun lotion and a sniff of nature
yes, one day he'll love me
too

-------

Fate; In The Form Of A Man

Precociously; I have approached
unsecured gates of a darker world

-He stood right beneath;
curving ahead of me long paths
planted with endless pain; on one side.
Leaving another path un-curved,

-for my ultimate imagination..

So I Sneaked around the dreary mornings,
painted with unrelenting rain
breathing the foggy cold air,
of dim sighing moments..

Looking inward seeking more images
to be revealed
I glimpsed edges and corners falling
washing away every bit of beauty.
Unpleasant paths, dull as tarnished mirrors.

And so I thought..
If life is to be measured by the distant moments
If life is to be treasured by the distance of
each breath we inhale.

Then I shall be but a centimeter upon
the ruler of reality
Life should know no bounds of regression, that
dwells through our eternal solitude

when breathing becomes a hard task,
and life be held as a burden lifted through
the weight of passion; the mass of love

With the likes of me;
who fear what tomorrow might be holding
upon the arms of future.
Anything is everything, yet everything may be nothing.
Unless I step aside the frame of life

-for he who sees more sees the
clearest.
He who sees clearest sees the bigger picture;
the one beyond the frame

Although I'm controlled by the mishandled lies of life
yet I will rewrite my future, as I recall my past.
Recoloring the nothingness that's shaping my life

For fate stood again beneath me
in the form of a man

curving ahead of me long paths
planted with endless pain; on one side.
Leaving another path un-curved,

-for my ultimate imagination..

-------

Escape

As sleep falls, I dream of clouds and stars.
My private heaven is behind a shield.
Everything is so unreachable and surreal
And nothing can be divine or revealed.

The sadness of the moon engulfs me
As blind knots needed to be untied.
In dreams of hope and despair I see
All those forgotten things I have to hide.

In an oniric world I lost my identity:
Wings of illusion are my cherished air
When reality draws me traps again
I close my eyes and I easily get there.

My world is made of tears in the dust:
It is where I taste serenity and delight.
I escape to my mind and it is transformation.
I am myself when I embrace the night.

-------

Imperative Death

My deepest thoughts,
unveiled the suffering
of ancient memories
inscribed in tattered dreams.

A time when verse,
drenched in somber ink
fell silent beneath reflections
of the raven's wings.

In the aphotic voids
between sun and moon,
I began to weave
star dusted fairy tales
upon dying petals.

Suddenly ...
Passages opened
where portals once stood
- unmovable-
Shapeless existence
began to form structure
and reason.

Immersed in salty waters
of realization,
I knew - I must die ...
to awaken a life
-worth-
resurrecting.

-------

Pure Truth

They say that all is fair, in love and war,
But faith, hope, and charity are much more
Than the pure truth, most of us will look for,
While pursuing the pleasures we adore

A reality likely to inspire
Heavenly romances and lover's desire
Lies not in passionate hearts on fire
Lest the mischievous angel be a liar

In religion and in our politics
There is usually dirt in the mix
Many have come to expect tricks
Arriving in the form of rhetoric

If I could swear with no if's and's or but's
Believing I honestly should love your guts
The doors would open that have long been shut
While the way to peace would be so clear-cut

-------

Waiting

Frustration.
An absence that causes pain.
What have I done,
to deserve this mess?
Honesty.
Loyalty.
Two qualities, of which I contain.
Though they mean nothing,
when chance is not given.
In a years time,
I've tasted no lips.
In a years time,
I've become, forgotten.
My life;
stagnate, as the air I breathe.
Love;
nowhere to be had.
But I shall move forward.
For time,
a thing I have plenty of,
is the only teller of all.

-------

My Writings

Sorrow overrunning my mind,
spilling empty words on paper
breathing life in my pen,
but killing all my inspiration.

Intricate shapes hew memories,
resembling phrases of hidden meaning
spelling emotions of joy and sadness
leaving a fragrance of pain.

A way of life or maybe a secret
Buried in our hearts and poured
unending over and over in ink
still reciting the same lonely message.

Yet what value are spoken
or written words, with no value,
written for only the purpose of show
and having no meaning?

-------
Litter

Suppose this broken bodied man
dreamt in colour
and unveiled purpose through drunken
belches, creasing the map of Bilbao
with his staggering path.
Suppose a half smoked thread
of nicotine meant more to him
than any sunset's
fickle promise of a tomorrow
and the sound of surf brought
qualms of homesickness
away from these brazen bays;
and the nautical nothings
the tide rejects upon the sand.

Here, couples fondle outside nightclubs
gather on benches, nauseated
by the bastard moon
or the stench of a homeless
passerby;
suppose he doesn't exist
and isn't longing for love.
He isn't. He's longing for some leftover
chips or some kind of
liquor so he can collapse
upon a doorstep
-perhaps-
and regurtitate the saltwatered
taste of Monday.

-------

Picturesque Windows

Picturesque windows line the border of calm and chaos,
Locking in that image of perfection to the world.
They can peek in, see the isolation and the pain.
They can stop and intervene, but this is real life.
There's bills to pay, mouths to feed, and no time
For someone so insignificant, so small and invisible.

She cries every night, thinks of inevitable solutions.
Hot summer days are done - she can escape;
But there's no comfort in lies and empty promises
Of a brighter tomorrow, a future among the stars.
She dreams of a day when the taunts will cease,
A day when she doesn't have to consider fate.

No one looks in; no one stops to ask questions.
Parents in anguish, wondering what was wrong.
Their poor little girl, who took a gun and ended misery.
No one will ever know why, and suddenly they all care.
Small town sorrow becomes a daily routine: mourning...
Looking to the house with blood stained picturesque windows.

After a quick read over these poems I sense that this is going to be a great contest with a lot of wondering and the talent really shows in this first round also with the creativity that people have used for their poems. Great job everyone so far! :]

Britt, that does sound like a fun thing to do. Confusing people for the fun of it sounds a lot like something I do at school lol

Well, I'll be posting throughout regardless of whether I'm in it or not.

I love the Twin poem. It's lovely.

Same here, Jane. :]

Adolescence and Change`````loved them!!!!

I also agree with Nana. I love Change. :]

I agree with Britt! Way to amp up these poems, kiddos!

Looks like Temps decided to change her pic :)

I noticed. :] It makes me think every time I look at it. Blast having to think :P Love it though.

I can't even choose a favorite because I have about 5 ... lol

Great submissions for the first round everyone !