FOP #4

14.4 homelessness or poverty

Her muse has abandoned her,
packed quickly, not beautiful,
not classical, just a suitcase's wheels
rolling over pavement, and fading
into downtown, eager to discover.

She's been a bore as of late,
not a dime to fuel the car,
no chance at driving around
to laugh at passengers
in the November rain -

perhaps this is karma.

14.5 rhyme

I cried a petite bride's cry
as I opened the package that's glided
from overseas - teasing my knees
to wobble like jelly, as I sunk
to the marble floor, and hugged
the plushy boar, that spelled
a lifetime, of sublime cries.

14.6 sad

She's caged herself
like a pretty lion at the circus,
clipped paws, polished teeth.

At night, she waits for conscience
to whip her skin, training herself
to be less selfish.

14.7 furniture

Two empty chairs
sit next to each other -
silent, but intimate,
as if ghostlovers are moving
justalittlebit closer there,
pointing at silly humans, the way
they touch more than their transparency
allows, but never dare to cherish
the warmth of an embrace
until the fireplace turns cold.

14.8 pnq

This place is full of incense
and rosemary; ebony curls
and golden locks -

this place is full of ancient
symbolism and fast-paced
modernism, but

nothing mingles, not even
two syllables from the same word,
but we're trying, we're trying here.

1. Form in free

Noura, like the poetic
sorceress she is has struck
in the eleventh hour.

With a practiced flick
poetry appears as if from
the magic of her mind.

The Club had an ace
up their sleeve!

2. Stationary

The pencil, no matter how much
I cajole, coax, plead and bargain with
cannot produce the art I desperately
want it to.

3. Crime/prison

I have half a mind to, with my modly
buttons to put Noura in the penalty box prison
and throw away the key!

4. Homelessness/poverty

With money in their pockets
and trust funds in the bank,
the poverty of charity in their character
set the politicians apart,
devoid of humility or respect,
they only live to infect

5. Rhyme

The only time I am ever rhyming
in my life again is in this poem,
because when this contest is over
I'm shutting up poetic shop and going home.

6. Sad

I didn't notice the cracks in the mirror
each morning, didn't suspect the slow creep
of depression - tending your needs
was the wheelbarrow my feelings
hid behind.

7. Furniture

This poem is a test. It isn't
a poem at all and I am going to
mention a random piece of furniture
(chair). And nobody will notice.

Shhhh.

8. About PnQ

All I wanted was to see PnQ
in its hayday: posters I didn't
know populating the boards and being
inspired by poetry I hadn't
experience before.

1. Formed poem/Free

My body is twitching
in frustration -
can this contest
be over yet?

No, of course not -
only a couple hours to go.

Please kill me now.

2. Stationary etc

This pen
is about to bleed
completely dry -
like my care
for poetry.

3. Crime/Prison

Would it be a crime
to throw my laptop
off the edge
of a cliff,
and never write
a poem again?

4. Homelessness/poverty

I'm stricken with guilt
that my love of things
has ruined my love
of people so much
that I place my importance
over materials
rather than helping
those less fortunate.

5. 1 Rhyme

Free bird
dancing along
tree tops
yet singing stops
and we find
the bird dead.

6. Sad

My heart breaks
for poetry,
as we have now
ruined it.

7. Furniture

This tabletop
you sit your coffee on
is about to be stained.
Your lack of care
for a coaster
is ridiculous.

8. This Site

Baby Rainbow
will be the death
of my job - for posting
while at work
is bringing down
my performance.

.1 freestle + form

We rose, a standing ovation,
throwing roses at the feet
of a figure we only know
from magazines and speeches,

standing still, he frowns,
tapping at the side of his microphone,
almost too eager to leave the stage,
run into the arms of his lover.

.2 stationery

Her pencil lies supine
on the blinding-white table,
dustless, and without nailmarks,

next to it, an eraser,
tattered, black
and misshapen from anger.

.3 crime or prison

A man with a cap sits
with a goldbag, pearl necklace
sticking out like a joker frog's tongue.

A child points and pulls at the hem
of his father, but he's too busy calling
his second lover, and tells him to be quiet.

.4 homelessness or poverty

When I wandered around Gran Canaria
on my own, penniless, and dirty,
I'd never thought I'd come home
fresh, and cheeks bulging with melonseeds,
thanking the farmers for my fruit.

.5 rhyme

At the zoo, I saw a kangaroo
and moo'd at it, then
eeny meenie moe'd,
made sounds like mowing grass,
and the chimpansees just stared at me
as if I was some primitive being.

.6 sad

I cut my finger today
and my mother just continued shushing
the new-born baby, and my lover
just told me that the plasters
are in the upperright corner,
second drawer from the left.

.7 furniture

Tables are upturned
from the alcohol he fed himself
last night, and the night
before that.

.8 pnq

This site has become
a battleground, poems containing
less than 3 lines, dominating.

.1 freestle + form

aha, so that was your plan,
sneaking up with loads of words, as we
sleep, contently hugging

our pillows, and dreaming
of something sweet ... like
mangoes ... oh, why oh why
isn't there a prompt
about mangoes.

.2 stationery

He tells me to just write anything at all
and I'm turning frantic at the tapping
of my own fingers like monkeys
are simultaniously tapping
on my skull and I've got no time
to spell-check that.

.3 crime or prison

she killed her poetic pride
with nonsensical melodies
and half-rhymes, eyes slanting
like freshly slit wounds,
bleeding at her own words.

.4 homelessness or poverty

She lost her home
to savages, as they
broke the glass
upturned the furniture
dug for gold
and only found a girl
to rape.

.5 rhyme

I can't rhyme for this time being cuz
TC's frying my brain and I'm trying but
now I'm even starting to create hinges
in my vocabulary, adding slang to my already
limited arrangement of words.

.6 sad

If the trigger is to be pulled
by my fingers - then so be it,

if the trigger is to be pulled
by your fingers - I will bleed
a thousand deaths, and place my heart
next to your bed, out of custom,
like an ex-lover's supposed to.

.7 furniture

My bed vreaks from throwing
paper around and kicking
in the air out of frustration and sinking
into my mattress a little bit more
as my back hunges and I wonder
when these 55 minutes will be done.

.8 pnq

PnQ, why oh why,
did you do this to me,
stole more than 4 years of my life,
tempting me to arrange
a QnA with you.

1. Formed poem - but must be placed inside a free style poem. So write a normal poem, but add in a form somewhere throughout the poem.

h
e
l
l
o

...?

Are you still there, or are you
watching me now

u
p
s
i
d ...... d
e ...... o
...... w
...... n

I am too lazy
to write an acrostic now,
so I just left it

2. Include an item of stationery, pencil, paper etc.

Paper cuts and envelopes
appear from everywhere, and I
must be hallucinating
from the stress

3. Include a crime, or mention prison, or both!

They locker her up
for screaming around,
running around
naked - and I thought
they were just jealous
of her big, swaying
breasts.

4. Mention homelessness, or poverty.

At the trainstation, he holds no
didgeredoo, or tropical drums,
only kneels, and hopes
for the sound of coins
to fall into his hands.

5. Must include at least one rhyme.

Why, hello, are you trying
to make me die?

I will cast a die, then
and cry in a corner.

6. Category : sad

She's holding on to your face
like a sculpture, amazed -

I'd only seen your face
in pictures, and never

did something glitter,
other than sadness.

7. Include a piece of furniture

On the kitchen table, a banan,
two knives, and the recipe
stained with chilli sauce.

8. Write a poem about this site!!

The threads are clogging with old
chewing gum, and people are all
stepping on each other's tongues,
creating mosaic at the soles.

1. Free/Formed

Eyes crossing
is becoming
problematic -
I don't want to
think ever again.

But the show must go on,
and I will sacrifice
my entire day

and sleep, because
BAM! We gotta win!

2. Stationary

My desk is cluttered
with work piling up
and papers neatly lined,
with purpose,
yet I have no intention
on focusing on them
at all today.

3. Crime/Prison

My mouth
has gotten me in trouble
once or twice before,
but never thrown
in prison like it has now.

4. Homelessness/poverty

He sits alone,
waiting for darkness
to fall, before he climbs the fence
and finds a semi-safe
place to sleep for the night.

5. 1 Rhyme

We're busting ass
writing without class
TC's poems are crass
but I love 'em!

6. Sad

She whispers her pain
but they don't escape
her lips, and we wonder why
no one cares.

7. Furniture

I find myself creeping
along the bookshelf
looking for the bind
with the most dust -
it must hold
the best secrets.

8. Site

How incredibly thankful
are the posters
that we are not expected
to post these poems
to our profile.

1. Form/Free

We're free
as we pretend to be,
but know that freedom
can be stolen quickly -

Of course, we must
understand that this freedom
requires certain things to be taken
seriously - but we don't realize

this all the time.
Instead we focus
on what others are doing.

2. Stationary

I'd love to
pick up calligraphy,
and write poetry with
the intention of salvaging
my credibility.

3. Crime/Prison

What these writers
have done, is create
one of the biggest crimes
ever reported
in PnQ history.

4. Homeless/poverty

She gives her very
last dime to help
someone even more
less fortunate
than she is.

5. 1 Rhyme

Writing of crime
thinking of rhymes
makes me want a lime
in my vodka.

6. Sad

I can't cope
with the thought
that I may not be able
to receive lunch,
due to posting
before the cut off.
Hunger is no joke,
and it makes me sad.

7. Furniture

There is a chair
in the corner
with paisley print,
and I can't help
but stare at it
all day.

8. Site

PnQers do have
hearts of gold,
once we rub
the tarnish off
the edges.

1.

Someday, my chest will split
open, blooming red
like a rose

Will you still fight me, then,
over the sky?

There is no room for poetry
Or Turkish coffee, after Palestine;
Roam all you like, keep your deads'
Names folded in chipped glass jars

Say the olive trees, know it all,
know it all.

---

2.

He's 5 years old
and you don't have to ask
twice for him to show you
his pen collection.

---

3.

I never understood how
it is vandalism to draw
a dream on the city's
heart.

---

4.

She sat curled up on the side
of the road, singing of days to come,
hoping life will fall, with a coin
into her empty cup.

-----

5.

Marble, was everything
you've ever given me
cold as bellies of clouds
and chipped as our history.

-----

6.

After you left i've learnt
how bedrooms turn into rotten
apples.

The smell of coffee no
longer promises wakefulness
these mornings, and although
I sleep quite well,

insomnia is a great excuse
for all the side effects
of a broken heart.

----

7.

Your desk, beneath the window,
is empty now and the sun is wearing
midnight-black in mourning.

---

8.

I like to read, as voices
change in a language
that's not my own,
on glowing screen
at 1 am, thoughts
of people I'll never
know.