Jan. Challenge Poems: Voting

Good Morning everyone,

I just want to thank everyone that took a prompt... They did exactly as I had hoped. They dug deep and all of them wrote really powerful poetry.

This is going to be very difficult to vote on... Please read all of the entries, and then send me a private message with your top 4 selections...

Please pick 4 poems -

Poem 1 5pts
poem 2 4 pts
poem 3 3 pts
poem 4 2 pts

If you have any comments you would like to add on these poems please feel free to send me those as well, however you do not have to if you don't wish....

I will keep voting open for a few days...

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Poem #1
Train Ticket Prompt

Metanoia

Fog horns echo
across the shore
and the smell of
salty air wafts
throughout the
railway station,

she sits silently
in a state of remembrance-

years have gone by,
she is no longer that
girl she used to be,
the girl with sad eyes
and a hopeless heart,

she has grown-

instead of being
knocked down,
she learned to dance
to the rhythm of the
waves as they crashed
against the shore,

she's found peace
in a new beginning,
she is a woman now-

but she still keeps
that old train ticket,
folded inside
the pocket of her
wallet as a reminder
of how far she has come.

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Poem #2
a political figure prompt

My Fellow Americans

history was tainted
the Indian never sainted
only given land, casino rights
forgotten were the struggles
the courageous fights
to keep what was already theirs

America

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Poem #3
Taste of Medicine Prompt

The taste of medicine.

I remember the taste of
medicine; the clinking
sound of the bottle and
the bitter taste assaulting
my tastebuds.

Gulping drop after drop, feel
the burn in the throat, the
tear drops forming as my hand
starts shaking and the glass
begins to tremble in my grip.

This is my own form of medicine
and I know...I know, that I
should know better by now.

{Medicine} isn't always helpful.

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Poem #4
A dying plant prompt

A dying plant

It is here
that I stand reaching
both high,
with outstretched limbs
grabbing as much sky
as my meagre frame allows
then low
lower than my mood
searching for nutrients
a search hampered
by my surroundings.

Thirst is killing me
recognition and ardour
my water
love and affection
my sunlight
yet darkness prevails.

If I was a plant
dying in a pot
rooted in parched soil
leaves wilting and falling
stems collapsing
fanning my base
with green turning to yellow
then brown
a backwards cycling rainbow.

I would understand my invisibility
those abruptly interrupted conversations
my words only utterances
ideas immediately ignored
forever lonely among a crowd.

But I am not a plant
though dying is very true
as are we all
I may be insignificant now
yet our destiny is identical
we are but worm food
nutritional dust and bones.

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Poem #5
A Garbage can Prompt

Burning The Darkness

It is never too late to return to yourself
and start fighting back to renovate your life.

I looked in the mirror,
disgusted and disappointed
in what I had become,
suddenly,
a button was pushed inside my soul.
I now know the answer
of how to restart my life,
without leaving through the back door.

To find what I need
in a world of losing hope,
I first have to find
the shell of what I was,
then make us both believe
that we can be a shining star again.

I have to bravely take hold of my past,
all of the hurt and pain,
and throw it all away in the garbage can,
burning the whole lot to ashes.

I looked in the mirror,
realising I was not living my life how it should be,
and within that moment of reflection,
my soul was breaking free -
free as a butterfly.

It is never too late to reclaim your life
and renovate your soul.

I look in my mirror,
I can see my future now.
I will keep the darkness behind me,
for behind me it will not define me,
it will simply help me
shine brighter than ever before.

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Poem #6
Old Tree prompt

You were old.
I could tell by scars and
cracks that covered your skin in
tiny, pulsating veins.
And the way your arms outstretched wearisomely
beside your perfectly
poised figure.

You were old.
I could tell by the way you stood watch; unfaltering-
serene under sun or rain.
And the way you held your ground
even against the strongest winds.

You were old.
I could tell by the way we were perfectly cradled in your protective arms.
I remember how
you held us.
You held our secrets, our laughter,
and our childhood crushes.
You even held on to the noose around
father's neck because you knew he
wouldn't hold on.

You were old.
You were no longer beautiful in the eyes of others.
Your blooms became fastidious and
your shade wasn't needed anymore.

You were old,
but even you deserved to live.

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Poem #7
being underwater prompt

Bubble Trails

Bubbles drift up, morphing
into ridiculous shapes.
The coral reef is deserted,
teeming with life minutes ago
now all disappeared.
A huge shadow crosses over me:
my boat, wind-drift on it's anchor line.
Thirteen meters above me
wavelets collide making
crazy quilt reflections of the clouds.

My bubbles drift up slow and fluidly,
otherwise a desolate sea surrounds me.
Peacefully, the wreck looms above me,
popular exploration for local divers:
WWII PT boat, deceptively small.
Even in dim light the colors stand out
blue and white and trimmed with red,
brightly painted before it was scuttled
for recreational diving.

Bubbles wiggle like amoebae
escaping to the surface.
Life is returning to the reef.
Scared by the shifting PT boat,
the braver ones come out first -
feisty yellow, blue and red wrasses,
followed by black and white sergeant-majors.
Tube worms spread flower-like
feathery dusters to catch plankton.
Quiet observation rewards you with wonders.

These bubbles keep sliding to the surface,
free and unfettered.
My dive clock shows
that I have 20 minutes left
before I must ascend.
Meanwhile, traffic has overtaken
the reef like a holiday park.
Neon fish chase each other,
guarding territories.
A green moray eel stares at me
from the safety of its burrow,
mouth open to uneven rows of teeth,
gills pumping water like bellows.

Tiny minnows play in my bubbles
as they rise, flashing silver and dark.
An octopus slithers past,
perhaps seeking a tasty lobster
or just headed for shelter.
The eel darts out to grab
a peppermint shrimp,
startling the octopus
who leaves an ink blob
as it disappears.
I can hear the moray
crunching on the shrimp.

Looking up I try to see
my bubbles break the surface.
No good, they get lost
in the kaleidoscopic waves.
I try again to move,
but the PT Boat has me pinned
to the rocky bottom
just above my hips.
All the struggling I have done
has merely worn me out.
A herculean effort rewards me
only with bruises and scrapes.

My bubbles drift lazily upward,
carrying my hopes
and my soul to freedom.
This shell will be empty soon enough.
"Knowing better!"
Such a painful admission.
"Never dive alone,"
even with years of experience.
And never wreck-dive alone,
even though you're
a licensed dive-master. Fool!

I gaze at my bubbles,
are they diminishing?
Funny, my dive watch
gives me more than ten minutes.
Piece of crap,
I should replace it.
Could get me in trouble one day.

Glazed eyes are still able to realize
the bubbles have stopped.
There is more food
for life on the reef.

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Poem #8
French Bread

- A day to remember -

On a bright blue canvas angelic feathers blaze,
Backlit from a crisp November sun: intense & bright.
:
Descending like a dancing aerial trapeze
A dove rotates its splayed wings;
Painting a fan figure of eight
to its favourite perch, above:
:
-----Le Pain Quotidien-----
:
:
The aroma of its delicious pastries & coffee beans
Permeate with a fresh vibrant breeze;
Swim with the sounds of chinking coffee cups,
Global languages & united open laughter:
A mesmerising, tantalising living jazz;
Natural in its free design, perfect for...
Dining "en plein air", on this Parisian street...
:
Not just dining though, oh no!
Also for, something, well, short of, "inoubliable"...
:
:
Amelie was speechless:
Pierre was now on his knees;
did he have no shame;
was he crazy, non?
"elle l'aimait tellement" - she loved him so
as he looked up at her
with those puppy dog eyes.
:
The other patrons and passing shoppers
smiled at the young man on his knees.
Was he praying?, but of course they knew ...
:
What is he doing? thought Amelie...
Was he... surely not?
Her face flushed, as people started to stare:
Her mouth betrayed & twitched a tentative smile...
:
Pierre nervously & somewhat clumsily
opened the tiny, yet elegant Royal blue box.
He precariously offered it to Amelie.
The ring sparkled, a kaleidoscope of colour.
:
Pierre coughed as a fine bead of distress
Meandered down his mid back...
He awkwardly retrieved his notes and spoke...
:
Amelie, "ma belle femme",
I want to lie with you each morning,
Waiting for your dreams to release you to mine;
I want to baptise daily in the champagne of your eyes
& thank the lord with hands tightly pressed
for sharing his dearest, personal Angel with me...
:
Pierre's "confiance" grew as did his voice...
:
Amelie, allow our percussion
to become symphonic, symbolic
& everlasting by being,
if you will,
my sunrise through to sunset:
Will you marry me, my sweet Amelie?
:
:
Time appeared to still;
Lovers in a frozen tableau;
No wind,
No sound:
Just the
Beautiful
Moment...
:
The bustling pavement
S..l...o....w.....e......d
its procession
to a:
. (Full stop)
:
:
The air molecules acted agitated
as did a pair of dark feminine eyes.
She stepped out from the crowd,
& glanced coldly at the frozen pair.
:
Her coat gaped open revealing a nightmare,
She lifted her head and arms to the sky
& eerily screamed, "Allahu Akbar"
:
A thunderous explosion erupted, creating a murdering maelstrom of billowing smoke.
Thousands of slaughtering steel balls, nails & shrapnel sliced, smashed, & pulverised:
Men,
Women,
Children,
Babies,
Animals,
&
:
"Aimer"
:
Evil ripped through warm wet flesh & bone, tearing it savagely from their dying bodies; flesh now too damaged to speak, to laugh, to cry, to live another day, to answer questions, any questions ever again...
:
The sounds of sirens and the wailing, of injured and bereft people saturated the tragic scene:
:
- Final scene -
:
From a perch a single white feather floats
D
O
W
N
onto a
'Boxed ring'
sinking
into
a
pool
of
Blood.

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Poem #9
A memory from Childhood Prompt

Backyard Musings

Saturday mornings
were made for bowls of Fruity Pebbles,
watching Bugs Bunny, Roadrunner
and Yosemite Sam.

But, Saturday afternoons,
Well, those were the best.
The backyard,
became a miniature athletic complex.

A baseball field where
pines and oaks became bases,
and home base doubled as a fort,
where rock wars began,
and usually ended
in bruises.

Our backyard was home to
bike ramps, tire swings,
and ghost in the graveyard.
It's where Allen always
had the upper hand,
because of his age and trickery.

Splotchy with dirt and grass patches
it was also a racetrack,
where my fathers lawnmower wheels were
perfect additions to the homemade go-cart
we spent more time painting than riding.

We were certainly no stranger
to Dennis the menaces, Mr. Wilson.
We had our own grumpy neighbor,
that hosted a cemetery of lost objects
and foul balls never retrieved
from the other side of the fence.
They are gone forever,
like my childhood Saturdays.

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Poem # 10
Cologne prompt

Reminiscent.

Caught within a memory, the world continues on
it's mad rush headlong to oblivion, yet I am still.
Trapped by the faintest of scents.

It used to be yours.

Colours swirl and flow around me,
yet within the rainbow that is life
I can no longer feel the presence of an anchor's
steady weight lending it's comfort.

Just the lingering echo
of a sweet,
cloying,
cologne.

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

Poem #11
Growing older Prompt

Growing Older

I have heard growing older makes you bolder,
growing closer to the reaper everyday.
I spend no time looking over my shoulder
mourning my losses would lead to more decay.
This beast of burden, not what it used to be,
once was much stronger, could last a lot longer
richer in spirit and not quite as humble.
Days are longer when I long to be stronger.
I rumble as my body starts to crumble.
I don't feel like I'm at the end of my rope
with mind, heart and soul given love, faith and hope.

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Poem #12
A church pew prompt

Decrepit

It beckons me once more...
but I am no longer the joyful child
it smiled upon.

Its voice is now demolished.
Constructed in mahogany,
devoid of song -
no more light from sun
or stained glass windows
or renewed hearts.

I hugged its smooth side often,
laid upon it as I tried to relax
during the hardest days
where winter entered my soul
and wouldn't move on.

I can't count the number of days
where I felt the amount of spines
twisting and hearts breaking
on that old wooden pew,
the touches of the wounded.

I promised a million tomorrows, here.
I spoke of unwritten tragedies, here.

I summoned him, here.
I told him I needed him, here.

The only sounds that echo now
are dusty memories and duets
of ghosts that can't bury their past.
This church is testimony
to the love prayed for,
vowed, abandoned...

I lean once more against
its sturdy back, aching
to hear another story.

But you never loved me, here.
You never held me, here.

And I can't keep returning
to a storm that's already passed on.

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Poem #13
The smell of lilacs Prompt

Three and a Half Years Later:

Another year has passed and tides have turned,
I've lost another set of lovers' souls, and time
moves so much faster with each month gone.

Words unsaid will be insignificantly forgotten
as promises unkept burn with remembrance,
coffee tastes bitter no matter how you doctor it -
like orange juice and toothpaste mixing again.

Maybe this year I'll finally move on,
get up and get out of these ruts I've formed
chasing after your ghost. It'd be nice to have
a fresh start somewhere new, even with him
I am reminded of you: how you pushed me away.

Another year has gone to the grave
buried beneath memories no one thought
twice about saving, six feet under
letters started but never finished and
envelopes addressed - not sent.

I'm doing much better out here,
I learned how to walk on my own
and I'm not falling as much (at least
that's what my therapist says).

But the smell of lilacs drifts in the breeze
finding its way to me, still leads me

to asking myself

how you might be doing.

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Poem #14
A Locket Prompt

On a chain of tarnished silver,
You hang and touch my listless heart;
Reminding me of times long gone,
And tearing all my scabs apart.
To open you would cause a flood
That drowns my eyes and then my life;
My misery would then take hold -
My joy all gone - my sadness rife.

Oh little locket! Do keep her safe!
Let neither wind nor light inside;
For in your air-tight atmosphere,
Is where my hopes and dreams abide.

I must not look.
I must not glance.
These urges all I must resist,
For if I keep on peering in,
My love, my life, will not exist.

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

Locket. I ask you to do what I could not: keep her safe.

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Poem #15
smoke prompt

Smoke

You walked too close to the fire, orange boy,
but I loved the smell of smoke on your warm fur.

Russets, dirt, dust, and roasting barley.

You were the look and scent of earth and sweat-
blood, oats, and fallen leaves.

I picked you up thousands of times just to
bury my face in your tiny, sweet body,
tell you I love you,
and breathe you deeply in.

I watched you walk too close to the fire,
but I swore that I could keep you safe.

I let the smoke fill my lungs and my heart,
which grew two sizes when I met you.

You walked too close to the fire, orange boy.
Now I hate the smell of smoke.

It's the stench of burning tires that could not stop.
It's the layer of fog that blinded your path.
It's memories burning every day without you.

You walked too close to the fire, orange boy.
I smelled the smoke on your cold, soft fur
before I laid you in your grave.

Because there is so many poems to read, I am going to keep the voting going for a few days.... maybe by weds or thurs...

Votes are coming in along with a few comments... this is truly an awesome outcome to start..

several comments to me about being very hard to vote on and I agree.. Every writer truly did an awesome job with this!

Well this is interesting.... All 15 poems have votes..

I'm going to leave voting open until Friday.... Please, if you have not voted do so this week....

A few voters have chosen to write detailed comments... Again you don't have to... It's up to you.

We have had a few votes from members who are fairly new to this site, who have been browsing the discussion board, and decided to cast votes... Lots of folks are very impressed with the poetry that is being displayed from this challenge. Just awesome.

This is NUTS...................... giggles

I just love it!!!!!!!!

The voting is all over the place... just excellent!

I get the feeling I'm talking to myself in here but that is ok because these poems are so damn powerful you all deserve updates!

I am happy to talk to you Andrea. :O)

To be honest I am not surprised that every poem received at least one vote. They are all so good. I can't recall a time when the participation and standard was this high.

Whoot Whooooot, thank you Michael

Yes, the poems are outstanding

They really are good, aren't they? I am currently working through them and will send my votes over to you tomorrow, Andrea.
All the best.

Ps Don't despair - there are three of us in here now - enough for a coven, at least.

Perhaps if I you hold onto me Ben and Andrea to you we can do the 'Conga' anyone care to join the line? lol Maybe we could get all fifteen contestants participating?

Yes, I've always been rather partial to the conga, Michael, though I admit, I have never taken part with fifteen other participants......:/

Well apparently my post didn't make it earlier(my dumb ass forgot to hit post). I was saying hahaha you can at least count that one other person was reading the posts .... me. Anyways, marvelous turnout. Congratulations on such a very great contest. I will try to send some comments with votes as well. Definitely hard to choose, they're all wonderful poems. I think I even recognize about 6 different poets style. I think I have them pegged, but never know. Hmmm maybe we can do a side bet on figuring them out. Haha. Just kidding.

Conga??? Yeah I am white through and through, I stumble on the remote watching "Dancing with the stars" be glad to cheer y'all on though.

I can recognize quite a few who have turned in poems just by their style of writing...but there are a few I can't. So I'm going to read them all again...lol...then send you my vote Andrea.

Great entries

Lovely pieces... still deciding here!

. I can't recall a time when the participation and standard was this high.

^^^^^
Were any of you members here when we had the poetry club and site challenge? That was great....we did all the genres....and the different listings under the genres....we had so many members participating...I know Kay was here. It was a really great undertaking there were even collabs.

This was a awesome contest Andrea....I was gone for 4yrs I didn't know the site had lost so many members :( yet it also got some awesome new ones.

I just read all the entered poems...Great ones entered. I'm going to reread them before I send you my vote :)

I remember the group challenge.... tons of poetry submitted it was really fun!!

again the voting is all over the place... I just got home from work and just when I think I kind of have a hint as who is in the lead, it scrambles again... lol

that is what is so awesome about this challenge... Im not going to know the final 4 until the end, its that close... Im defiantly going to leave this up for voting until Midnight Friday... and then Saturday morning I will announce the winners :-)

Sounds good Andrea
Can't wait to see who wins

I remember the group challenge.... tons of poetry submitted it was really fun!!
^^^^
Were we in a club together then Andrea?

I do think we were for a time Cindy- I had a few clubs myself and then joined a few... Ive been club free for a few years now... Im all clubed out.. ha ha Whats fun is the last club challenge that was hosted, allowed members who were not in a club to gather up as the independent group... I think Hellon and a few others and I joined in on that one... that was really a good time!

This really is great for the site, Andrea, so hats off to you. This thread has a wonderful vibe to it!

Thank you Ben....

Yeah, its really exciting to get people involved, I think what's really cool is the voting response...members who are new or very quiet, are reading and voting...Im hoping they will soon join in for future challenges...

That's good and let's hope so. I have voted and look forward to seeing the results; to be honest, there's three or four worthy winners in there at least!

It truly is scrambled, the apple cart has been spilled... ha ha

Finally voted after much re-reading. There are so many good poems to choose from here it hasn't been easy.
Looking forward to seeing the winners :)

As of this very moment... we have 4 clear placements... but literally, only within one or two points between them...

and again... with all of the poems the voting can get scrambled...

this is really awesome and I know you all are eager to see the final results... I have decided to go ahead and post results on Friday morning... gives 2 more days for people who want to vote...

I want to thank everyone who has voted... a huge turnout for voting with this challenge... lots of support for these writers and this challenge just really cool to see!

And just when I think we have placements, it gets shuffled.

If you have not voted please do, this is getting very interesting!

results unveiled on Friday!

This play-by-play reporting is fascinating.

Giggles. ..just feel it makes it more exciting..lol

Exciting... its an edge of the seat adrenalin ride!

It truly is Michael...

Just got home from work and.... I had 5 more voters...

and it's all tossed up again...

I have no clue who is going to win this... Im shutting down votes Friday morning and then I will know... ha ha ha

!!! 36 hours til results come out !!!

Wow. The poet who wrote for the French Bread prompt: Are you interested in screenwriting? Don't answer of course, but I applaud you for such fantastic storytelling.

I think I know who wrote it....

Finally got the chance to vote, good luck all

Thank you to everyone who has voted

Voting stops tomorrow morning, please keep voting today...all 15 poems are outstanding...

We have had a massive turn out for voting....lots of support for this challenge

I'm so happy there was such a good turnout Andrea...Just goes to show we have support on the site....next we should have another club and site challenge....help get through these winter days :)

Have an independent section and Im in Cindy :-)

Ok folks...just got home from work...I'm off tomorrow so after I've had my coffee I'll post the results...if anyone else wants to vote while I'm asleep, go for it!

Two more people voted while I slept....Whooooot

This will take me a few hours to set up and figure out, I will post results in a few...

*******************Voting stops now***********************

~~tapping fingers waiting for results :)