FOP BATTLE THREAD

  • Baby Rainbow
    10 years ago

    PLEASE ONLY POST ON THIS THREAD IF YOU ARE ONE OF THE 5 MEMBERS ENTERED IN THIS CLUB.

    Colm
    Britt
    Saerelune
    Kakera
    The princess

    _______________________________________

    The prompts must be used in order from 1-10, then repeating the cycle until time runs out. You cannot skip any numbers. MUST BE 1 TO 10.

    The same member can only post up to 2 times in a row, they then must await a second person to post before they can reply.

    I will post the prompts in the morning, along with the word GO.

    Closing time is Friday 8pm. (UK time)

    Good luck and enjoy.

    _______________________________________

    Your prompts are:

    1. A formed poem

    2. 30-32 syllables

    3. Include "a river/ocean" or "a star(s)" either by the words, or through metaphor.

    4. Use a song title for the poem's title.

    5. Category must be sad/depression

    6. Free choice of any poem at all

    7. 10-12 lines

    8. Must include a body part in your poem/title

    9. Must include a time or date

    10. This poem must rhyme at least once throughout.

  • Baby Rainbow
    10 years ago

    Go

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    1. Formed poetry - haiku

    beneath stones of moss
    insects yawn as dawn arrives
    crowning earth with dew

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    So ... same member can only post up to 2 times in a row

    2. 30-32 syllables

    With swollen eyes -
    mosquitoes show no mercy,
    waiting for the night
    to sink its weight upon my skin,
    or needles to sink into me.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    3. Include River/ocean or star.

    As a boy, I recall the golden evening -
    holding Mammy's hand at Cobh bay
    like sentinels at the cliffs, where West Cork
    was tucked in by the Atlantic.

    I watched you stretch your iron legs
    and leave a washline of white surf
    in your wake, watched until you sillouetted yourself
    proudly against the setting sun.

    I don't know if the jubilant deck calls or smell
    of salty fresh paint and varnish were figments
    and the added extras of my young dreams.

    And after 87 years of sleeping on the sea floor, still
    I see you shadowed against the orange Munster sky,
    still I hold Mammy's hand and wave your time goodbye.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    4. Song title

    [Lost the echo - linkin park]

    Enshrouded in tissue, no cells left
    to regenerate, no breath left to keep
    in glass jars, like fairy lights,
    for I am lost in the echo
    of a half-hearted smile,
    such sorcery hidden in broken
    tea cups, how they remind you
    of screaming parents, how they
    made you wish upon the stars
    for a divorce which is denied
    due to the lack of oxygen.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    5. Sadness/depression poem

    When I speak, my vocabulary reduces tenfold.
    When I speak, the royal flash of his poker set becomes reality.

    Behind the glasses of wine was a girl
    with lips as red, from biting her tongue.

    He never watched her, intently, lustfully,
    just the hollow of a skull piercing through vision.

    No hot knife could compare, just a stone's throw away,
    and her throat would've been crushed like pomegranates.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    6.

    Thank you, with a capital letter,
    for all the shared smiles
    and cliche summer nights,
    spent dancing beyond dreams

    Thank you for the life you left me,
    Life, capitalized for effect,
    when you split infinity in half
    to show me that nothing is impossible

    Thank you for not saying goodbye:
    It'd probably have been painful for us both;
    Thank you, with capitalization,
    for forcing me to quit chasing your shadow

    Thank you, and godspeed.

    Edit: Oh snap, what are the odds of us posting the very same minute haha?

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    7. 10-12 lines

    The grey half-ruins lay hidden behind
    an alcove of ash trees, almost invisible from
    the road. Upon closer inspection, the brickwork and mortar
    celebrated centuaries of marriage, generations
    of moss and ivy their children. Inside was dark
    and heavy, and the grassy floor an uneven
    splattered cemetary of pigeon droppings.
    And under the thin window slit
    a loose, weathered piece of rock crumbles
    and trickles to join its megalithic friends.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    8. Must include a body part in your poem/title.

    Play my rib cage like a guitar;
    my arms like a bass;
    and my vocal chords
    like a saxophone

    Use my shoulder-blades
    to play my throat like a violin,
    and show me that music
    still hasn't left my life

    despite the crushing silence
    that lingers in my mind

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    9. Must include a time or date.

    July 22th, at 18:48,
    facing away from responsibilities,
    to waste away, decay:
    in the shadows of expectations
    I remain

    Answering nothing, loving no-one,
    blaming the outside for the blinding sunlight
    acting as a spotlight pointed at truths -
    yet in the shadows of expectations
    I try to remain,

    Avoiding responsibilities,
    wasting time and wasting away.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    10. Rhyme

    I saw a clown without makeup on his face
    And I thought, what sort of clown is he?
    Not the kind a I think I'd rush to embrace
    He isn't a character you usually see.

    Usually clowns don't look out of place
    But this one was hanging out beside a tree,
    He didn't even have clown shoes to lace?
    He looked familiar, he looked suspicious to me.

    At parties we love to play chase,
    But wait! The man is a clown, now I see!
    He playing cops and robbers, didn't make it to base!
    The policeman says 'Finally! How did you ever get free?'

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    1. Form

    Haiku

    Canary yellow
    freckles of leburnum feud
    with smothering briar.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    2. 30-32 syllables

    Softly you sang love songs
    to the revenants of failed attempts,
    hoping to break the shackles of the past,
    so that we may breathe freely.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    3. Include "a river/ocean" or "a star(s)" either by the words, or through metaphor.

    How beautiful the stars shine
    when watched from an ocean
    of loneliness aching,
    where fate cried happily
    as she in your facial expressions wrote
    "Sink or swim, sink or swim,
    Sink, or swim?"

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    4. Song Title

    Teardrop (by Massive Attack)

    The way you pursed your lips when I left
    my plate on the sink and sat down to read the paper,
    The way your laughter wrinkles tightened when I opened
    another bottle of cold beer and turned up the tv,
    The way your eyes narrowed when I forgot
    to empty my pockets of betting slips before coming home,
    The way your head dropped when I didn't
    pick up the milk in the shop after the match, again.

    The way a teardrop fell on your coffin when I reached
    for your hand at my side because I can't, I can't

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    #5 Sad/Depression

    I walked you home, one last time,
    We stopped at the gate. I remembered
    The tennis games we set up in summer in the yard.

    And on down the road where we cycled to school,
    Where you crashed in the ditch when Murphy's dog chased us.
    In no time at all we were at the church.

    It seemed as though I was listening to myself listening
    to the prayers and hymns. Carrying you out
    was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

    There was handshakes and stories, a meal
    And prayers and drinks. But when I got home
    There wasn't you.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    6. Free choice of any poem at all

    They say ignorance is bliss,
    and that knowledge is power;
    But I know that bliss is ignorance,
    and that power leaves you miserable.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    7. 10-12 lines :

    When you laughed away the bruises
    of cold shoulders bumping,
    I had no choice but to laugh
    at how bizarre it was for us,
    the strongest of lovers,
    acting like strangers too

    And when I did, I got goosebumps
    because of how beautiful the pain felt
    when caressing the sore spots in my throat,
    singing loneliness to the choirs.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    8. Must include a body part in your poem/title

    They lift my legs.

    Left. Right.

    No disease, skin like pearls.
    And depression is the oyster
    clamping around its treasure.

    I am the epitome of cliche, right
    to the bottom of mainstream psychology.

    My mind's iridescent, residue, left
    by the hands of surgeons.

    They scissored right beneath
    my breastbone, never between the legs,
    left no trace of trauma behind,
    no Hansel and Gretel spilling whiteness
    to find their way home. Only intrusion.

    Except, nobody believes me.

    Left. Right.

    Nobody believes me.

    Nobody believes me.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    9. Must include a time or date

    2007 -

    Left the world to baptize myself
    in pixels, but no sword could save me
    from my double-edged distrust.

    After 12 AM, glasses still remained mimers.

    2009 -

    Left the world to baptize myself
    in words, and cosy, they were,
    and glee, they brought,

    but nothing could've fooled me more
    than the lies of being alive.

    For after 12 AM, glasses still remained mimers.

    2014 -

    Left the world to burry myself
    in blankets, and cosy, they were,
    and glee, they took.

    Found myself falling asleep
    to headphones as lovers.

    After 12 AM, hands still clutch to glasses
    that fail to mime, a phone that fails to chime.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    10. This poem must rhyme at least once throughout.

    A word spoken, tears that fell;
    Many words left unheard of, many tears choked;
    Words and sentences become the tales you tell
    making sure that no truth remains cloaked;

    From the shoulders of giants you built your stage,
    where syllables are sounded from the written page
    in front of a million ears that are quick to embrace
    the beauty of the written grace.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    #1. A formed poem -

    Monorhyme

    Count your blessings, don't you dare run
    away from the reality of our bonds come undone,
    because while we both know that this ain't fun,
    we too know that you're the broken one -
    For whom the dark can swallow the sun,
    leaving us blinded and loved by none,
    because life is a game not easily won -
    so stay here forever, don't you dare run.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    2. 30-32 syllables

    Cast the rod, rip the calendar
    apart, you'll find your lucky number

    they said.

    I caught my lover, and
    lost him in the wishing-well.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    3. Include "a river/ocean" or "a star(s)" either by the words, or through metaphor.

    "Cry me a river and I'll bestow you the moon."

    Give me a break, Romeo
    and leave me before noon.

    For I am no mountain,
    pride not in rivers.

    The moon's glow is but a trickster
    beneath the valley of blankets.

    I've had enough, enough of rhymes,
    enough of promises I know I could not defy.

    Leave me as this facade still remains upright,
    before I bestow you a river, and drown you inside.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    4. Use a song title for the poem's title.

    "Butterfly Dance" (by Diary of Dreams)

    Summer came quick this year,
    melting away our winter fears -
    We jump into dreamlike states,
    dancing like butterflies,
    living life with wild abandon

    Preaching life to the evergreen,
    as watched from outside your window,
    way past the anchors of industrial filth
    weighing down our lungs, shackled and chained,
    hoping that we will never have to
    give up our dreams;

    Dancing like butterflies,
    living life with wild abandon.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    5. Category must be sad/depression.

    She woke up cursing the day of her birth,
    forced to continue forward with bleeding feet.
    She whispered lies with every "I am okay."
    to please the shallowness of the so-called kind.
    She was a stranger to happiness bleeding through
    the walls of her numbness blocking;

    When I painted a world of words ringing true
    she abandoned her faith in me,
    leaving me screaming:
    "I know you're not okay"

    "I know you're not okay"

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    6. Free choice of any poem at all

    Tick tack.

    Flies on the wall, counting their fall.

    Tick tack.

    One leg now gone, two wings to go.

    Tick tack.

    I'm not insane, please stay, please stay.

    Tick tack.

    I'm all alone, six legs now gone.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    #7 Song Title

    Back Down South (Kings of Leon)

    Back down South, where you grew up on Bible
    and cattle ranching was where we were at our best,
    our honeymoon period in the Texan summer.
    I bought a broken up, once-red convertible
    that roared us from Dallas to small town life.
    It doubled as a bed and I almost forgot how it veered
    off left when I tried to help you navigate the map.
    Now, every once in a while I pull back the dusty cover
    And sit in it.
    I face South.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    #8 Body Part

    I used to joke that the freckle on your shoulder
    Was a cartographer (I baptised him Manny) - And the shadows
    Under your eyes in the mornings after we slept together
    But didn't sleep were miniature elephant tombs.
    You would smile like a baby and I would remind myself
    To remember.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    9. Must include a time or date

    At 12 AM, I forgot about the laundry,
    still curling in the washing machine,
    but I left it slide, like the dishes
    I left at 12 PM, the last time I ate,
    like the friend I left in 2011,
    the last time I armed my heart
    with less than two lies.

    At 3 AM, I forgot about 3 PM,
    I washed the bottle and refilled it
    with salt, but didn't scrub my face,
    left the lies dying there,
    turned the ugliness inside-out,
    like the ragged doll I wrecked
    at the age of 8, and patched up again

    just to have it look like myself.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    10. This poem must rhyme at least once throughout.

    On days like these, I put on the fan,
    its sound like trees, clattering against windows,
    summer breeze in plastic, lost in illusion,
    with dreams too majestic, I belittle tempests.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    1. Form (acrostic)

    Chess

    Castling, en passant, what are these terms I hear?
    How do I make that perky knight disappear?
    Everything confuses me, there's pieces here and there,
    Some people call this a game, say its fun?
    Some part of me wants to scream before this match is done!

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    2. 30-32 syllables

    In the Garden

    Butterflies flutter on summer breezes
    honey bees farm foxgloves and fushia,
    grass-stained children imagine far away worlds.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    3. Include "a river/ocean" or "a star(s)" either by the words, or through metaphor.

    O the weariness of her promises,
    how it aches when she closes her eyes -
    Letting us fall forward into nowhere,
    regretting our journey past the gates
    that lead into the realm of descriptions,
    where the mists of deceit is lifted:

    Shattered by the disillusioned mourning cries
    we forced upon the fading echoes,
    as we could do naught but stand by and watch
    our Angels crossing the River Styx.

  • Kakera
    10 years ago

    4. Use a song title for the poem's title.

    "Oblivion" by Diary of Dreams.

    O brother, crave for colours,
    reaching past the beauty
    of your fingertips tapping goodbyes
    on the window into our grief, breaking
    the silence in appreciation
    of the lonely light that washes over us
    from the stars on our sky fading -
    Knowing that we too,
    will know the coldness
    of oblivion.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    #5 Sadness/depression
    I learned about black holes in science class.
    A black hole is a crushing vortex where time slows
    To a stop and space beats itself up.
    I learned about black holes in science class.
    I wish there was a lesson that explained the black hole
    Revolving inside me.

    Maybe it is tougher for a black hole to suck in molecules
    that are attached to others. Maybe it is easy for black holes
    to attract space that is already empty.
    Maybe the worst black holes are the supertiny ones
    nobody can see.

  • Colm
    10 years ago

    #6 Any poem

    The dark clouds that shadowed my footsteps have lightened
    to pale grey, and patches of aqua blue peek out
    as if hedgehogs emerging from winter's hibernation.
    The rain that stuck to my checked shirt and skipped
    down my ladder-like spine has eased, and faint rays
    of sunlight warm my skin and lighten my spirit.
    And the chains that she once locked me up in have loosened,
    The keys you gave me work better each day.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    7. 10-12 lines

    He's been oblivious to sea bells chiming,
    lived in books afar from mermaid's marriages,
    and thus he never believed she could disappear
    in foam, as the coffee steam stained his glasses,
    its dance reminding him of grandma and how she left
    the laundry to drown in her fragrance, and
    his mattress' warmth to dwindle
    even as he burnt her picture
    in the hearth of nostalgia, wondering why
    he never bothered to look up from his stories
    and see the fairytale glimmering between them.

  • Saerelune
    10 years ago

    8. Must include a body part in your poem/title

    Beneath the city's neon signs, I need no breastplate,
    and I don my leggings just to feel the air again,
    and I look up to feel the rain and see what vagabonds see each day
    but everyone's too drunk to dive into the sound
    of street musicians, as if their ears are plastered
    to speakers, and feet unaware of bubblegum.

    Beneath the city's neon signs, faces align
    then break the mosaic, faces light up
    beneath cigarette smoke, and I know
    I am but a face in the public vehicle's window,
    dreaming of dancing with feet instead of imagination.