Hey PnQers, sorry about the delay!
We had a judge out this week. We also have a mistake on the front page and I'm really quite flustered about it. It was my turn to watch the weekly contest and when I went to bed everything seemed in order, we had a tie and I expected the site to break it but instead a complete different poem went up. Apologies to The Huntress who was wrongly placed on the front page and Robin A Walter & Kristina who had poems tied on 10. I'm sorry this has happened and I take full responsibility.
Earth Bound
by Robert 10+7 = 17
In the Cradle of Jazz
by ddavidd 10 + 7 = 17
Soldier In The Mud
by Robin A Walter (10)
World of Kings (10)
by Kristina
HM's :
Why do we photograph?
by The Huntress (7)
Overwhelming
by Satish Verma (7)
Dreaming of a Girl
by Love Fallacy (4)
Love Tune (4)
by Love Fallacy
Sun Shower
by Biancas Veil (4)
The Beckoning
by Vince Gullaci (4)
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WINNERS:
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In the Cradle of Jazz
by ddavidd (10)
I think this poem would have been flawless if left alone with its first stanza. Wow. It made me tingle all over with the feeling of the discovery, the glimpse, the hint at a Truth... wonderfully abstract, yet totally and strangely accurate. I love jazz... in its essence, it is about living in the very moment, about total improvisation, feeling a feeling and seeing where it takes you. It can be playful and teasing, it can be powerful and challenging... and it always takes guts. This writer has guts. The rest of the poem was like a jazz dialogue. It had some lines that dazzled and some that fizzled. It had some rhymes that worked seamlessly and others that were totally forced. But the true spirit of jazz was behind it all.
Profound, mystical, fantastical, free. This poem was on drugs, man. A great jam session.
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In the Cradle of Jazz
by ddavidd (7)
Jazz and rhyme are an acquired taste and this healthy write went down rather well with a beat that made it very pleasurable to me
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Earth Bound
by Robert (10)
I love this poem! The imagery is perfect for the intended message, it flows nicely and each scene transitions smoothly to the next. I like how it starts backwards, with the thought and then the trigger of that thought, like it happens in real life when we drift with our imagination, instead of how it is regularly done, starting by the trigger then the thoughts. The poem is about life, yet starts with a melancholy tone, but the writer soon gets to the positive part, which comes as a surprise.
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Earth Bound
by Robert (7)
The heart and night mingle in this poem in an troublesome darkness: "Troubled by the word's that have been spoken" Everything start to fall apart break like a glass to the jagged pieces with sharp edges that hurt and pierce into one's feelings. Exactly like the world of objects, the world that surrounds us. They all are the shattered glass of our dream, perhaps. But the poet looks into the vastness of the sea he even in his own sadness yearns to see the world un-shattered, still intact, the world of dream not the world of sharp and jugged objects. He replaces the world, the jagged world with his own dream that mends the broken pieces together in sorrows. In that state of baffleness the poet finds the reason for his own survival, a spark of life that even though it makes him jealous, it also shows him the way to autonomy and liberation. A "caterpillar" that even though is wiggling like the poets feelings but it is care free, because there is the means of freedom in it, because it evolves and it will fly one day.
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Soldier In The Mud
by Robin A Walter (10)
soldier running through the rice patty of a muddy , sticky battlefield complaining why should I be trapped in this; something must be wrong that drenched me in this funnel of muddiness, this trenches we build with our own hands. There is a war going on for sure: "mud , rice patty , the stink of carnage, keeping the head down, the mortars," everything is still sticky like the rice patty of this wetland this quagmire that we struggle so hard to survive, to come out. Our life is always on the line: the war is going on and on, no matter were I am, I am in war, in the middle of a battlefield but this time it is extra crispy, it is worst. But why shouldn't it be? it is the war after all. The massage is: all the muddiness and stickiness, all the mortars that explode in these trenches of life are to make us to keep our head down for another day of survival. We want to leave. This is not our war. We are not heroes and even if we were, this is not our cause. We put our head down we hunch our back we crawl, we wriggle to survive like worms from this mud, in this mud because if we flaunt our head we are dead. (10)
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World of Kings
by Kristina (10)
This one had a free flow I could feel but find it hard to put into words . Writing has become more about winning and losing to me. I also relate to this poem because of the expectations put on a poet . Strangely feel a sense of pride also defending the Kings in this battle
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HM'S:
Overwhelming
by Satish Verma (7)
I am voting for this poem because I kept returning to it and I wanted to know the writer. I love finding new brains to explore through poetry. This poem showed an impressive handling of words - of selecting them and stringing them in long and short sentences for effortless impact. The content was intriguing, and I'm not going to pretend to understand it or offer my interpretations. It is clear the poem has an obvious sheen of quality to it, a naturally intelligent style. This writer has the ability to connect the big things to the little things, the material to the spiritual. Beautiful writing. (7)
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Sun Shower by Biancas Veil
I wasn't sure what it was about this poem that made it so endearing to me. It was child-like, and its middle lines were almost clumsy and cliche. Yet it projected a clean, white image that was very real. There was no context, no dragging details, nothing too prescriptive that would have marred its beauty. It was clear and evocative, and classically so. Its first and last lines were, indeed 'pure bliss'. It warmed my heart.
Why do we photograph?
by The Huntress (7)
I love how this poem is pieced together, how it flows to connect from one line to another, like a growing chain of thought, yet it doesn't lose it's inner music. The repetition is also nice here and doesn't dull the poem up like in some cases. It also adds up to the poems meaning and how it seems like a chain of thought. It could be looked at in three different point of views the way I see it, which triggers a different reaction from different readers. It could be the poet talking to herself, to others to empower their self image, or to those who take self photos to gain approval. This way of writing helps different people interact with the poem and relate to it. I also like the poem because it has a gloomy feel to it, however it is interpreted, which it is intended to do as it is a sad poem.
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Sun Shower
by Biancas Veil (4)
I wasn't sure what it was about this poem that made it so endearing to me. It was child-like, and its middle lines were almost clumsy and cliche. Yet it projected a clean, white image that was very real. There was no context, no dragging details, nothing too prescriptive that would have marred its beauty. It was clear and evocative, and classically so. Its first and last lines were, indeed 'pure bliss'. It warmed my heart.
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The Beckoning
by Vince Gullaci (4)
As simple as it is this poem is beautiful and paints a magical scene. It shows how one simple thing can change a persons mood and invite them to change views or become a better person. It is a call to look for the simple things in life that bring us joy and help us reflect upon the world. I enjoyed reading it, and I could read it over and over and get the same feeling from it... It made me smile.
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Dreaming of a Girl
by Love Fallacy (4)
This is such a lament that we all are familiar with, that we all experienced it, we all know how it hurts but we can still listen to it because it would never get boring: "Dreams are never meant to be I'll search the world and the deep blue sea I'd swear I find the girl for me Oh, oh it's true" but the poet baffles us with his technics and power of imagination when he walks around the town that he calls "lonely" but only because the only lonely in it, is he himself. There are no other souls in the crowd of these people. Nobody but his own shadow : "My shadow's only one around" and incessant mood of melancholy. The tune in this poem is song like; it is very long but it holds together. He, stanza after stanza, wave after wave is going though detail of his share of heart breaks in the life, sadly, pleasantly and poetically.
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Love Tune
by Love Fallacy (4)
The repetition in this poem was well placed like a lovely tune composed of lyrical passion
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