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(Results)Poetry Contest - Reminsce of the Days of Old

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posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 08:16 AM
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I hated being a teenager because I never "fitted" I've put down, as a second entry, what bit of it was like until I found my "genre".

Hurry up now pick a team,
you have to conform to be a teen.
New Romantic, Rock or Punk?
Mod or Metal, Dance or Funk?
Pick it now, choose your uniform,
Rebelious youth, thats the norm!

Madonna Louise Veronica Ciconne,
maybe with her I'll feel less lonely.
No, classics maybe - Bach, Vivaldi?
I have to admit I prefer Montovani.
Duran Duran then, I'll be one of them.
Lace and mascara? A bit too femme.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen gone,
Still haven't found my song to belong.
Scanning the charts to find my thing,
then in the background I hear a King.
"Are you lonesome tonight?" - not any more,
I found it, my tune, to make my heart soar.

[edit on 4/3/09 by Supercertari]




posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 08:18 AM
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Like a bride, wide-eyed
I crossed the threshold to the new world
A world of promise, change, peace, prosperity for all

Coached by Bradbury and Heinlein, Steinem and Freedman
I made peace from contradiction, balance from conflict

I knew hope
First the moon, then space
No more starving
No more injustice
No more despair

I knew power
I crossed the threshold like a jet
Broke the sound barrier at the starting line
And flew with Shepard to the moon

Innocent
I brought my birthright to the table:
Hope and power

I still hold my birthright, but more tenderly
And I've narrowed the parameters

.

[edit on 4-3-2009 by soficrow]



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 08:32 AM
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"Does this count as a poem?" by DJMessiah

Does this count as a poem?
Who's to say?
When I type, my words bring about confusion.
Am I really typing a poem, or spending the time away?
Why have I wasted your time by making you read this?
Yes, the awfulness of this writing knows no bounds.




[edit on Wed Mar 4th 2009 by DJMessiah]



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 09:00 AM
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reply to post by DJMessiah
 


Thought, brought to life by word, whether in prose or rhyme, is the connection through which strangers may meet. Poetry, in all its forms, is thought made manifest.

More musing on TIME by the masters:

 


Pythagoras, when asked what time was, answered that it was the soul of this world.

Plutarch

 


Swiftly the years beyond recall
Solemn the stillness of this fair morning
I will clothe myself in spring clothing
And visit the slopes of the Eastern Hill.
By the mountain stream a mist hovers
Hovers a moment, then scatters
There comes a wind blowing from the south
That brushes the fields of new corn.

T'ao Ch'ien

 


The past is only the present become invisible and mute;
and because it is invisible and mute, its memoried
glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.

Mary Webb

 


Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.

Hector Berlioz

 


That night, for one moment in time, the owl and I were aware of each other- we met in an enchanted encounter that ended too quickly for me. Something ancient bonded us. Blood and miracle and twilight had combined in a single charged alchemy, and I had, briefly, been in the magnificence, of a night's own beak and talons. Out of darkness, out of the endlessly random permutations of time and place, a wonder had occured. Time had stood still. The owl, with its moondial face, had brushed its wing over the flow of time. For those few seconds I had been completely in the moment- oblivious of future and past, my senses alive to the night, the owl, and the beating of my own heart.

Christopher Dewdney from Soul of the World (HarperCollins)



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 09:49 AM
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Mom and pop shop serving ice cream on the corner
Never knew how much i'd miss it
6 in the morning to get the boston cream doughnut
Grandpas left arm farmers tan from the morning routine
Always thought it would last forever, it should have if the world was perfect
Too many nights up, looking at the stars
Seeing the reflection of the world from the shore; wondering what lay beyond the curtain of misty clouds and atmosphere
Makes me miss those days like i can't understand
The rug got swept from underneath
Time stood still for those moments
Always and forever to shape who i would be
Wish i could have caught myself in mid fall
Get back up and do it all over again
But time moves on like the world keeps spinning;
You can't stop it, and even if you could, you'd destroy something so beautiful



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 12:06 PM
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So fast, I can barely see it´s shadow

A faint rumble, like distant thunder

Passing unnotisable over my head, like a cloud in a blue sky

Gently touching my face, like a cool breeze

So close, but forever untouchable

Invisible, but still so powerful

Is it all in my mind,

this thing called time..



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 03:03 PM
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Take me back
to that god awful smell.
Back to the prerry trails
and where the fish roam with tails.

Take me back.
Back when the sky would fall.
Back where i was 10 feet tall
and we lived with out law.

Back to the place where,
where one taste made my case.
Where dares would be sacret
and to share was forsakened.

Back by the mountains in outerspace
and when bigfoot had a face.
Back by the rivers of gold
and your secrets where never told.

Back when I could fly
and had no way of telling time.
Take me back befor it all begain.
Take me back because it's all about to end.

[edit on 4-3-2009 by Armour For Victor]

[edit on 4-3-2009 by Armour For Victor]



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 04:33 PM
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Longing for the days of old
When people earned their way
Staying on the couch all week
Earned zero dollars pay
Responsibility once was the way
To keep from blame or fault
Soon everyone will ask aloud
"Who is John Galt?"



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 04:43 PM
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Christmas Eve
Awaiting the next day
For presents, candy, and Santa

Joyous eyes filled with hope
Staring at the beautiful Christmas tree
Tomorrow never seeming to get closer

At last laid down for slumber
Too excited to sleep
I lay awake for what seems like hours

Sleep crept up without warning
Now I awake early in the morning
Everyone is still sleeping

Behold the presents neath the tree
Stockings filled with candy
It's Christmas Day



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 04:49 PM
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My senses were keener then . . back when,

Back when I rode the bus to school, and tried to find a seat near you,
Back when all of us brought our lunches,
and you could smell the bananas, and apples, and bologna sandwiches,
and peanut butter and jelly, . . so smelly . . . and yummy, in our tummy.

You could smell the fingerpaint, the glue, the clay,
the classroom was our place to stay, . . on rainy days we wiled away.

Back when friends were really great, lots of love and little hate,
Back when you worried all the day, if you should ask her for a date,
or go alone to the dance friday night,
( cause if she said no you wouldn't feel right, . . about going at all)

Back when we had sock hops and "battle of the bands",
But dress codes to keep us in hand,
Back when we respected our elders and respected the law,
And we did our chores instead of hitting the mall.

My senses were so much keener back then. Back when.
Why, . . . I remember the time . . . when . . .



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 05:06 PM
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(sorry, third post, don't star!)

As i sit on the stoop, i hear sirens through the city scape
wave bye to friends who walk by
home from school just after two
nothing to do, no chores, homework
i'll stay inside today, seems like i'm always out till the lights go off again
have time to let my mind play, clean my room, knowing tomorrow will be a new day
I get up with a long stretch, built tension from algebra, english, carl Jung's' damn emotions
It's a friday with nothing to do, empty streets, muffled beats
seems like fun is miles away
all i want to do is lay out and dream
nothing like the end of a week to top off five days of school, drama, and stress
and then comes work, coffee, cigarettes
more stress, no rest, long nights filling shifts at best
no time for self, but self reliance....
ah shi* another broken appliance
mailman came and bills are due
i can only pay 2/3, baby. How bout you?
car chug gas, i'll ride the bus
I'll be there late. no need to fuss
my hairs a muss, mess......
my words are too
"I'm doing great, how bout you?"



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 06:05 PM
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I can't bite my tongue any longer!!!!

YOU GUYS ARE GREAT!!! I'm so impressed by the talent expressed in this contest so far. Thank You for Participating and please keep them coming!

Yesterday,
Or was it the day before?
Maybe it was last week,
Or was it last month?
I can't remember
I'm not sure
I can see it so vividly
But we were so different then.
That thing,
What was it called?
I can't remember
But I can see it all
What happened there,
What happened then?
I can't seem to remember
Why is it a blur now?



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 07:17 PM
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Drowning Of The Earth


Dark skies explode as if on que
Feeding the dampness forevermore.
Where once the buffalo thundered
Over the great canyon until only dust remained,
Now the tide laps at the highest plains
As if one with liquid sky.



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 08:41 PM
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We were thirteen and foolish
With a lighter and some gas
Burnt some wood, it caught too fast
Put it out, at least we would try

I thought we were gunna die
But I didn’t have time to cry

First love is something else
Words couldn’t possibly describe
I couldn’t have felt more alive
Then you left without a goodbye

I felt like I would certainly die
But I couldn’t bear to cry

My best friend, my hero
Same age, but a role model
Never touched drugs or the bottle
When the call came, I thought it was a lie

I couldn’t believe you’d die
But I couldn’t let myself cry

I look back in time
I remember the good with the bad
Try to relive the good times we had
Thinking of such, I can only sigh

These memories will never die
But I can’t help but cry


(word count 149)



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 08:46 PM
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Slippin' from my hands are the joys of dollar coke
The days of dollar gas
A big ol' fart from my buddies ass

Slippin' from my eyes are the sights I want to see
Lush forests, justice, and all that used to be

Slippin' from my ears are the noises that were oh so once true
Real talk, loud walk, the screeching of the chalk,
Not a life coated in baby blue

Slippin' in this world are the tears of dignity
Shame is the game, get tamed by the famed

Coming are the days of wrath and pain
The wicked will be looking up to the rain
Asking god, for a pass to heaven

Zeppelin opens up, and says this one ain't for sale.

(words - 124)


[edit on 4-3-2009 by FritosBBQTwist]



posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 11:42 PM
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Here's and old one of mine:
-------
The Last Sunset
-------

As I look into the colored sky
And calmly reminisce
I cannot help but wonder why
What truly is amiss

As my focus fades away
Life turns into a dream
All that there was from yesterday
Is my future as it seems

Lost in an orange bliss
Forever I'm entranced
Still I fathom happiness
For which I have not glanced

Digging to the future
Is what we wish to do
The aspects of our troubled past
Seems quickly to bleed through

Amidst a fire that breathes within
Among our unsolved mind
Lies the keys of how we view
The things we seek to find

Our runaway trains
Chug out of sight
This sunset so beautiful
Holds back the night

While the world scurries
And dances around me
I sit in this daydream
And bask in its bounty

Satisfied here now
I savor the view
As quickly tomorrow
Will bring none anew

J.C.

[edit on 4-3-2009 by N3krostatic]



posted on Mar, 5 2009 @ 12:02 AM
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And my 2nd
----------------
Man Vs. Self
----------------

The revolution simmers
Underground it grows
Lock and load ye sinners
Our moment no one knows

Above the surface dwindles
A flock controlled by fear
Boarded up their windows
From truth outside so near

Prepare for battle soldiers
My heart sinks with you all
Stand solid, take no orders!
This empire we will fall!

Reminisce those old days
Resurrect them now
March for them and always
Keep with you this vow:

A fight for reason knowing
To stand for which is true
Although the pain is growing
I'll run this evil through!


And at my grave remember
Weep not my lovely dear
Cold inside as December
My enemy lies here.....


J.C.



posted on Mar, 5 2009 @ 01:28 AM
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Taking a nap at just three and a half,
I'd focus my mind on the sky.
I wondered how far, in both distance and time,
will I get, when it all passes by.

When moss covered stones were the sidewalk of choice,
pretending a stick was a staff,
I'd shout and I'd follow the world, and its voice,
there was always a reason to laugh.

I'd sneak by the forest of shadows and screams.
I'd sneak by the barn in the field,
and then to the creek, where I kept all my dreams,
and my hopes, when I thought it was real.

Now it's all different, no time in a day,
old bottles displayed in my home.
After I'm gone, and decaying to gray
I'll go back, where I'm longing to roam.


[edit on 5-3-2009 by lernmore]



posted on Mar, 5 2009 @ 04:50 AM
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2nd Attempt (properly this time though...)

Who and What is
The I that is Me?

Whence did existence begin and befall
The I that is me?

How and why
Did this Quester arise?

The line of my words portrays a mere fraction of the true thought
The thought that contains the past and emotions and experience of all that is
The I that is Me

Like the slimmest of silver threads, gently wrapping the sphere of what is
The I that is me
Traces the linear description contained in a wealth of syllables and sounds and shapes of infinite amounts

Yet no end volume of vocabulary and nor all the World's writing can explain
Who and what is

The I that is Me?



posted on Mar, 5 2009 @ 05:35 AM
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On The Farm

Sitting on a rocking chair
Look across the dusk
the pristine hedges,
Rain / warm wind
I remember centuries ago when
if you got on the bus
your legs would tense,
cos there might be a bomb from an Mi5 Muslim.
When the phone rang,
tense ear case it was some brittle bitch from collections.

Debt slash disease plus hope and excitement.
Now fighter craft sit sleeping next to blue meadows
-'What's debt Grandpa?'
'Can't really explain. It's like when one person owns another person.'
-'Why would they want to do that?'
'I don't know'
Crows in the distance at night and the silence
-'What's disease?'
'It's when your body is angry and attacks itself."
-'Why does it do that?... Is it true people's skin gradually dried out?'
'Yes,'
-'Mum says you make up half your stories,
she says she's sick of hearing
about when you met Alex Jones'
'Does she now? just wait till I see her.'
Now run along to the Nano-farm, it's nearly dawn > >
(Whisper this sweetly) "You cheeky little sod."















[edit on 444.383f20094am by HiAliens]

[edit on 444.163f20094pm by HiAliens]



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