Title Contest: Of the Unique Sort.

Eh. Results at the bottom. I'll try to get to this all as soon as possible. Things are... Busy right now.
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Guidlines:

1.) DEADLINE: November 20th.

2.) Two titles is a must, one poem for each.

3.) If a title is infact not reserved, a person who has picked a previous title may change to one unreserved.

4.) The above guidline is only if you absolutely cannot write with the title you've chosen.

5.) Rhyme doesn't matter, but is preferred.

6.) Form does not matter, alone with style or genre.

7.)Be sure to let me know though, what genre I'm reading first.
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Awards/Rewards:

1st place:
20 commented poems
20 votes
Spot to the favorites

2nd place:
15 commented poems
15 votes
Contest Nomination

3rd place:
10 comments
10 votes
A pat on the back

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Titles:

The Reason Six Was Afraid Of Seven.
` Phillip- Reserved
`

I Complain To Keep You Busy, Sweetie
`Sheena- Reserved
`Jenna- Reserved

Pull Strings For The Martyr In You
`Jenna- Reserved
`Decay In The Dark- Reserved

I've Lost The Clock To My Conscience
`Teria- DONE
` Jordan- DONE

Two Sugars For Your Insight
`Spades- Reserved
`

Like Autumn Leaves, Submission Sets Fire
`Britt- DONE
`Nyell- Reserved

I'll Paint It In Pastel Pain
`Nyell- DONE
`Jordan- DONE

Sixes And Sevens
`Phillip- Reserved
`

Short Lines, and Long Meanings
`Anna- Reserved
` Spades- Reserved

Band aids are Only Temporary
`Sheena- DONE
` Anna- Reserved

Lets Drink To The Pain Of Your Neurotic Behavior
`Teria- DONE
`Decay In The Dark- DONE

Cheers. (:

NOTE: You have to write me TWO poems with TWO different titles. Or you'll be out of the contest completely. I want to see varity, not just one poem to decide. And I dont care if they're the same genre. I just want TWO. Hope that's understood.

Great titles... "Like Autumn Leaves, Submission Sets Fire" and "I'll Paint It In Pastel Pain" for me, please :)

"I Complain To Keep You Busy, Baby."

I loved all the titles, as I obviously love all your titles and always have, however, I must warn I'm really busy right now with band and school work, so bare with me; I'll write these as soon as possible.
And also, I've been in the "prose" writing phase, so coming up with something might be a little hard, thus the reason I only took one title. I might be back, though.

And hey, keep in contact. I hope all is going well.
Take care.

xTheEcstasyofSuicidex

Prose is fine, Sheena. And take your time. I'll need two poems though to advance with judging. I'm not doing rounds. Time is no worry though.

Yes ma'am. Preferred That Way.

I'll get to editing later.

Let me explain further- I screwed up the last post. Ugh.
Two titles is a must. I worded that incorrectly. I have a killer migraine and can't think straight.
One poem per title. You have the ability to switch unreserved titles. But only if it is a must.
Two people can write one poem for each title, but you must have atleast two poems so that I can get a better view of what you can do with such odd titles.
I'm not doing this in rounds, I don't have enough patience yet with just trying this out.

Just did. (:

Another note:

Ninety percent of the time that I'm on poems and quotes... It's from my cell phone. You can't edit posts on that. It just erases the entire text block. Be patient with editing and me getting back on stuff. I figured that note should be left.

If I have to have two (which is fine, I was actually giong to anyways, but realizing how much time I <didn't> have to do these, I only took one...), I'll take "Band Aids Are Only Temporary."

I realize prose are okay, but these titles really scream: "POEM!" to me, so I must obliged. Meaning, if I can write a poem for them, it'd be better than the prose that could come out.
Anyways, if that made any sense, those are the two I want.

Take care.

xTheEcstasyofSuicidex

Love these titles, have to say, you make a lot of the best titles I`ve ever seen lol.

Uhmmm,

Pull Strings for the Martyr in You
anddd
I Complain To Keep You Busy, Sweetie

:]]

Thank you, Jenna. the same could be said for yourself.

ReproducedByIntelligence ( F P C D ) at 2007-10-18

I'm not sure of the genre, lmfao. :| i don't care; misc?

I've Lost The Clock To My Consience.

the lyrics got you, baby. they're pulling at your clothes,
and one by one they come off - lost in an odd, odd world.
as personified flowers scream out in erotic behaviors,
enjoying the show that never seems to end -
at least to you, my darling.

the memories are tugging at your arms, holding you down.
and, feeble minded thoughts rush in circles around you,
in a way you thought they never, ever would.
they're beating at your mind, abusing all your thoughts-
is it over yet, my darling?

the words they sting your legs, pulling them apart.
and slowly enter deep within the hollow, lifeless pit.
i can see within you now, how ugly you truly are.
but, there's no longer any feeling, you're numb to pain-
is it over yet, my darling?

i've lost the clock to my consience, it's been quite awhile
since i've seen the sight of wonder deep within your soul.
wetness drips from my lips, burning sensations run.
and, i've never felt such joy watching someone else's pain-
is it over yet, my darling?

the lyrics got you, baby- they're pulling at your clothes.
and one by one they come off - lost in an odd, odd world.
as personified flowers scream out in erotic behavoirs,
enjoying the show that never seems to end-
at least to you, my darling.

ReproducedByIntelligence ( F P C D ) at 2007-10-18

Mkay. idk the genre again. lmfao.

Lets Drink To The Pain Of Your Neurotic Behavior.

My mom once said dogs are just like humans;
When one has fleas, the entire pact has them.
and, when one dies the entire pact dies off
one by one, and with each death it's more lonely.

Her thoughts remind me of you, my dear.
One by one you break them, make them fall apart.
You leave them with a broken life,
but with each one you become more lonely.

You realize your life is but a lie,
living in the moment's not always the best,
For you're left here alone, and half dead
with no where to go and no where to turn.

To the right there's another heartbreak awaiting,
To the left it's but a fire pit calling your soul.
And, straight ahead's a life of pain filled with lonely nights.
But, behind you's the worst - you'll be living in your past.

Lets drink to the pain of your neurotic behaviour,
It seems you're just like dogs themselves -
You follow the pact, let yourself down,
then you die a little more; one by one.

Pull Strings For The Martyr In You

Lets Drink To The Pain Of Your Neurotic Behavior

Thanx and really interesting titles... :)

I guess Sixes And Sevens I would like to reserve

The Reason Six Was Afraid Of Seven too.

I'll paint it in pastel pain

I panic in front of the full moon of sacred omens,
exchange bodies with butterflies, owls and bats.
Ironic madness suffocate my candy unicorns,
move pictures in the head, create twisted art;
don't worry- I'll paint it in pastel pain.

Overwhelming allusions dance down my spine
deathly tango- melody's on eternal replay;
Pearl lips touch mine with toxic devotion,
break promises that ornamented scarlet dawns;
don't worry- I'll paint it in pastel pain.

Delusions taste like nectar on my numbed tongue.
Mindless performance with swords and roses
crawls in the mind, leave bloody traces.
My thoughts are spinning along with this lunatic world.
Don't worry- I'll paint it in pastel pain.

Deadline:
November 20th.

Both poems need to be in by then.
Let me know if you can't finish it by then.

Cheers.

Can I do

"Short Lines, And Long Meanings"?
&
"Two Sugars For Your Insight"?

Like Autumn Leaves, Submission Sets Fire

A maniac knocked on the door of my consciousness
while the night was dripping behind the curtains;
I let him whisper for a while- threatening quietly
then raised a pillow and smothered disturbing voice.

This day's crawling behind my room's window,
and once again I'm living through it like a shadow-
hiding all thoughts, my ignorance, the whole world;
simplicity of the words I write kills structures in me.

Leaves fall, ornamenting empty streets of silence,
giving them just one day of blissful divinity that sings;
More than once the fire swallowed all messages
and particles that I tried to align through obscurity.

For a believer in me this submission isn't enough-
I'll suffer again between black and white fields
of grotesquely designed, maledicted chess- boards,
so I'll have faith in creations of this twisted moment.

I claim these notes like my own- abandoned and sordid;
no wonder that all angels fell when they replayed;
Storms in the heart created parallel realms that put
tears and stars in the right order, cursing them with thunder.

Walls of metaphors shelter wounded unicorn
turning the bloody dagger inside of a hourglass;
Like autumn leaves submission sets fire
to destroy once again rebuilt hope.

Band Aids Are Only Temporary

They say getting back up is easier the third time.

It isn't.

I've found, with time, we're nothing but like that of a picture; a beautiful memory that once - with some objections - was something but is now only a wavering piece of paper that could just as easily disintegrate as it could catch on fire.

They told me if I didn't think too hard about it, I could easily convince myself it hadn't really happen. I once believe that line was for people who wanted to give up.

"Shhh, it's a secret," I once whispered into your hair which smelt strongly of chemicals.
But, (like everything else) that was probably a lie.
I'd never tell you a secret.

Like this picture we hold so delicately in our hands, it could so easily tear. From the chemicals departing from your hair I could easily say (with much detest) how weak you really are.

It's a gift, some say, to be ugly. A simple blessing to be
a burden, I would think. At least you would know they thought of you. It's like you could read minds . . .

(Could you read mine . . .?)
Such a trembling thought.

And over time, I've found we're like the sun on a one day trip; we grown just as he does he day, turning the brightest at the height of our day and growing dark when we're at lowest. It's nice to be symbolic, but who understands it anyways? You've grown. That's all that matters. You've grown and you've changed. You think it's for the better, but who would want to be so much like a picture that if you so much as get touched by an element of nature you either disintegrate or are reduced to a puddle of uselessness, no longer depicting anything.

Who would want to be so much like it that if you so much as apply a little force exerting in opposite directions, you separate your ways . . . all with one little bit of peer pressure. For shame.

You're nothing but a picture, a beautiful memory that once meant something, but now has no faulty meaning.
And then, with the figure that you have no faulty meaning, I remember what my parents had always told me: "Getting back up is easier the third time."

xTheEcstasyofSuicidex

Let's drink to the pain of your neurotic behaviour

Shallow mind of a subconscious soul,
forced to consume perfective placebo.
All your static beliefs are lost and cold,
along with the stories of me and you.

You curse the shattered iris of your heart,
releasing suppressed ache of dementia.
As your heart and your mind begins to part,
you fall in abyss of hysteria.

Adorning your carcass with pure white lace,
preparing for your prudent demise.
Bite your blackened tongue and color your face,
with crippled smiles and savage eyes.

A memory tinted with phantom imprint,
ignoring solace with a mind barrier.
Solemnize a final toast and let's drink
to the pain of your neurotic behaviour.

Forget that post.

One week, Kids.

Both poems need to be in by then.
Make it work.

Pull strings for the martyr in you

Story of a lie to crucify,
the ache of never-ending madness.
Bare your burnt and broken eyes at me,
to provoke the pride of my credence.

I watch your dark gaze with whispered breath,
to read the lines of forbidden fear.
You kneel upon the cold heart of death,
with unspoken blasphemy so clear.

Walk me across the thread of your mind,
and maybe I will then understand.
Do not fear I will leave you behind,
just close your dry eyes and take my hand.

When I'm lost in the depth of a dream,
the lingering thoughts of you makes me weep.
Nightmares that taunt the sound of your scream,
hush my dear, I'll sing you back to sleep.

I watch afar with fragile forlorn,
at the way you dwell in solitude.
I shall wait for your fears to be gone,
and pull strings for the martyr in you.

Hah. You've got till midnight.

I'm judging tomorrow.

Pull Strings for the Martyr in You

With my words, I cut his heart wide open,
Hoping that he would let me sew it back,
But he took the shards of crimson glass,
And swallowed them down with his pride;
[Or at least, what was left of it anyways.]

Crawling along the kitchen floor, he traced,
Following his staggering footsteps backward,
Stopping at a dead-end, he looked up at me,
Trying to find the words to dig himself out;
[I must say, I admire his talent at digging graves.]

Whiskey tears stain down his rosy cheeks,
As he cries to someone who is no longer there,
And his breath is tainted with pretty one-liners,
That he throws away like last nights news;
[But I fall for it every time, I`m such a fool.]

She smiles as he hands her another drink,
Yes, let`s all drink away our rationality,
It`s quarter to three and I`m still up waiting,
But he won`t come home, no, not tonight;
[Time`s slipping, but she`s almost out of her dress.]

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Time gets him out of his pants.
She`s sliding off her dress.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Focus. Focus.

His conscience was shot to hell, and I`ll buy that,
Pretend you don`t smell her Jenna, just pretend,
I`ll smile my best smile at him, and he`ll buy that,
Oh what a mess we`ve gone and got ourselves in;
[But I wouldn`t want to be anywhere other than here.]

He pulls my strings, I`m just some novelty puppet,
And I know he has it in him to drag me around,
I count his footsteps as he walks away from me,
Another night to sit and lose myself to the clock;
[He just went to meet some friends; ha, yeah right.]

My bags have been packed for seven months now,
They`re sitting by the door, collecting dust,
And maybe one day I`ll get the courage to leave,
But right now, I`m happy with what I get of him;
[Pull strings for the martyr in you, I know you can.]

-Jenna Elphick
November 19, 2007

Baby, I Complain To Keep You Busy

If you whisper, "I love you," I might admit I don't love you at all,
With a topsy-turvy set of you're not worth my time.
Your heartbeat isn't going to stop your breathing; it'll just make it harder,
And now you're touchy, touchy, with a bit of disgust sinking into your lenses.

Now, now you've fallen I see; this is a little tragic, but you're just so ugly;
And I"d help you this time, but I'm afraid of your diseases.
What was that? You're a little cold, lying there on the ground?
Too bad you've forgotten how to get back up; such a tragedy.

So we'll paint the sunset with our bottled lies,
It'll turn our sight from black and white to a sight so colorful.
What if I'd never have taught you how to fall?
It's just a little too late to get back up, just a little too late.

And the moment you began to whisper, my ears went deaf.
But I guess you'll always be that ugly.
A little contempt can assume the worst, but it's just like a bit of angry thunder;
Oh, baby, baby, we'll adopt the aroma of electric shock - taste like a bit of failure;

Baby, it's like I complain just to keep you busy.

xTheEcstasyofSuicidex

I Complain to Keep You Busy, Sweetie

I`ve lost my mind to the sound of the clock,
Ticking at the minutes of this forsaken dinner,
And my thoughts are lost in this bottle of wine,
But I`m not drunk enough to let you down easy.
[No no, you`re not getting away on my watch.]

My vengeance speaks for itself, and it`s screaming,
So to spite both you and her, I won`t call it a night,
`Cuz we can get drunk off of our lust for each other,
And be careful not to make too much eye contact.
[Maybe then it won`t be so obvious to the rest.]

Her foot slides up your leg, she gives you a wink,
And we all know what goes on during the night,
You pretend you don`t feel her, focus on your plate,
But you can`t hide the bulge in your pants forever.
[Sooner or later, you`re going to break, just wait.]

I`ve always been a procrastinator of such events,
And right now, this ticking clock speaks for me,
She`s getting antsy, waiting for someone to move,
So she can fake a yawn and lure you out to her.
[I know her tricks, you fall for them every time.]

Her lipstick stains are left out on her empty glass,
They match the ones stained on your collar bone,
Oh, what a tragedy this is, that such intimacy;
Is pushed behind, forgotten with all the others.
[But who`s keeping count of these encounters, anyway?]

The walls between us can only be built so thin,
And I can hear every line you feed her, every moan;
But while you feed her lines, I eat them from him;
I can admit, they`ve never tasted so sweet before.
[But words are so bittersweet coming from his state.]

I slide off my dress.
He holds me close.
I hear him breathe.
But you`re too far.
I can`t hear your heart.
No, I can`t hear it.
Oh, what a shame.

In the end, it comes down to the strongest spine,
And who has it in them to walk out the door,
But judging from my coordination right now,
I`m in no shape to walk alone, so I`ll keep muttering.
[Ha, I complain to keep you busy, Sweetie.]

-Jenna Elphick
November 20, 2007

First Place: Sheena

Second Place: Jenna

Third Place: Jordan

The results were picked on the variety I found within vocabulary, form, concept and genre in each poem. These three have proven the variety.

Everyone else, I'll do three of your poems with good length comments for your participation. Those of you disqualified, I guess that sucks. (:

Cheers.

Congrats to the winners, truly great poems guys!

Should I PM you with three titles or you'll comment on three poems randomly?

This was a great contest, by the way :)

I'm glad you liked them, Ian. I've been having trouble writing lately and the fact that you choose mine means a lot.

I hope everythings okay.
As for the comments. You don't have to do the full twenty; you've already done a lot of mine. Matter of fact, I really owe you.
However, I have new pieces I'll be putting up later. Perhaps we could negotiate and you'd only do those (for I really, really would like your opinion on them).

Anyways.
Ily. And I hope you're okay.

xTheEcstasyofSuicidex

Thank you, Darling . The fact that someone as talented as you would place me means the world . :)