VALEDICO'S POETRY CONTEST: FINAL ROUND

God, sorry about the wait. So much stuff going on lately I'm up the bloody walllllllllllll. So yes. Let's get started.

There are two poets left and I hope at least some of you have enjoyed this as half as much as I have. I wanted the final round to be a good old head to head!

Poets will be judged by my hand-picked judges and I will be adding additional comments to the poems submitted. The winner will get their poem nominated by me and an indepth comment on a poem of their choice and the runner up will receive an indepth comment on their 'running up' poem. Sound fair?

RULES:
The rules are relatively simple. I wanted the poets to be at home with their skills and not tossed outside a comfort zone so we can see the best of these two poets.

Take one of the quotes from below and write about it in LESS tan 200 words. There are four:

--

'Every day we see hundreds of eyes but do not even suspect they have such beautiful structure, like surfaces of unknown planets.'

'Regrets are as personal as fingerprints.'

'There is no evidence that the tongue is connected to the brain'

'The hair is the richest ornament of women.'

------

Go go go!
Both poets have until Thursday 11:00 my time and the winner will be revealed at some point on Saturday.

I find this to be a nice round that these two poets can rellax in. I also hope you get some rest to Danny! You have done a wonderful job so far!

Cool! Can't believe this contest is finally coming to a close, haha. Ok, I don't mean that in a bad way, but it has been longer than the others.

>:O

:P

Funny face, Danny! :p

They could write about the same quote if they want. Cant be bothered with the whole...reserving thing. (:

Sweet. :]

Whose quotes are they?

-Not sure
-Margaret Banning
-Frank Tyger
-Martin Luther

:)

Nice fur ;)

Cool peeps with their interesting quotes. :]

Unchangeable

Today will never be the same
as yesterday, for everything
we engage in today,
hinges on the narrow twist
of lines we walk toward tomorrow.

Many times we effeminize
our tongue, painting it with dabs
of blushing pink.

Only to regret a poorly displayed
canvas of egestive fiction,
on a background of winter.

Left to ponder -
If only ... the surface
would of best been scratched by truth
than stroked with rose colored ink.

Regrets, like our fingerprints,
are unique and unchangeable.
Perhaps we may have many,
few or perhaps even none.

Yet I know, if I die today,
lay me in a field of wild roses,
for every thorn
that has pierced my heart,
has long been washed away.

---

Self-Portrait

All the twirling twisted edges
of nature are gathered
in my body's silhouette

my elbows the rough branches,
my forearms the roots, worn knotty and smooth
toes like waving fish gills, eyebrows like a rabbit's ear,
lips like a pitcher plant, wet and poison pink,
nails like sawdust, nibbled by goat pale teeth down
to the dusty quick.

The ridiculous pageantry of nature
has its million years of mutations
on parade in my circumstantial body.

But my hair...

my hair glancing with sunset,
spooling like copper,
washed free like gold in a stream
tossed over a white shoulder in frustration
tousled by men in moments of delirium, yes,
yes, my hair

is a jewel, an heirloom,
the only one I keep.

--

Waiting for the results :p

Soooon!