- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Anytime, I have no life.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, detective noir, fractured fairytales
Welcome to the second part of PIPS!
In this thread, we encourage you to read the entries and answer the discussion questions provided. Feedback and commentary are of course welcome, but remember this was meant to be fun and light. We're here to discuss the themes of the submissions, not to nitpick how they were written :) Please remain polite and if you do provide criticism, make sure it's constructive.
First of all, thank you to everyone who participated! I received a handful of submissions and they were all quite fun! We're definitely going to be back in April 2018!
Some of the submissions are anonymous -- please respect this request by the writer and do not try to pin it on someone, even if you recognize their writing. There are no winners, but every entry will be featured in a pinned Showcasing thread, along with their entry!
There will be a reading done on Discord on Sunday January 7 @ 19h00 server time (Central time, GMT -6). Since it's the holidays, I figured the first weekend of January would be best for everyone who might want to pop in. I will be recording it as well and posting it on Iwaku's Youtube channel for everyone to enjoy. More instructions will be posted when the time comes!
The themes for December's PIPS were:
- Change versus tradition
- Pride
- Purpose
- Violence
- Optimism
-
In the following tabs you will have the discussion questions, which I highly suggest using! :) You are also free to simply comment on the submissions and say how you feel about them or how they made you feel.
-
- Do you feel the themes selected for the poem were identifiable in the submission? If more than one theme, did a theme feel like it was the main one?
- If a title was provided, did it mean anything in regards to the rest of the poem?
- In your own words, what do you think the poem meant?
- Are there any symbols? If so, what did they mean? Do you think they were universal symbols or did they arise from the context of the poem?
- Did the poem provide an image? If so, what kind of image?
- Do you feel the form (poetic form, rhyme scheme, line arrangement, etc) influenced how you interpreted the poem? Were they important elements?
- What was the tone used? Did any words reveal the tone? Is it consistent, or does it change along the way?
- What heavily connotative words were used? Did you feel any words had unusual or special meanings? If any words or phrases were repeated, why do you think that is?
- Did you feel like you understood the meaning behind the poem? Were the writer's intentions clear or ambiguous?
- If you were to read this poem out loud, how would you go about it? In terms of tone, rhythm, etc.
- What parts of the poem interested or puzzled you the most?
- Do you feel the themes selected for the poem were identifiable in the submission? If more than one theme, did a theme feel like it was the main one?
-
- Number/letter grades are highly discouraged as they tend to be arbitrary and to vary widely in interpretation. This applies to any form of comparative grading. It is better to use the discussion points from the previous tab for each entry based on its individual merit rather than assigning a grade.
- Some entries were requested to be anonymous, please respect the writer's decision.
- Discussions are encouraged to happen between December 21 and December 31, but if you wish to keep talking about the entries once the event is over, the thread should remain available for a few weeks.
Have fun and even if you didn't submit a poem, everyone is encouraged to talk about the entries! :)
Submissions
By: Anonymous
Themes: Purpose, Violence
My lips are chapped and my shirt is drenched with sweat,
My palms are shaking, my knees buckling for the worry they undertake.
I feel the heat from the closed-up room,
Despite feeling the breeze of the air-con being loomed.
I take a seat on the satin bed,
Wondering whether I'm actually in over my head.
For pain is felt and rarely seen,
I tell myself for once, this will not be taken as another scene.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I tell myself that as I gripped the sheets tightly on my bed.
The clock strikes three and the curtains were drawn in.
My medicine box was scattered and free, sheets of tissues thrown overflew the bin.
The mirror on the dressing table across me, had whiteboard markings of words,
To describe the person in it I should actually see.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I looked at the palm of my hand, to the pills that I had spread.
I distract myself by thinking about how the first time my head started to scream out loud.
It was a few days before Christmas,
Where lights and decoration in malls were witnessed.
Pine trees were dressed with vibrant lights,
Even my friend and I were brimming with excitement from the sight.
Boxes and packages lined with ribbons and frills,
We couldn't wait to have our fill at the annual Christmas grill.
There would be gifts exchanges and a party with dances,
Though what I looked forward to was when the food passes.
Despite our intentions of wrapping up presents,
It seemed like others too had their own celebration.
The train was packed and my friend and I were separated,
I held onto the door handle as a young girl suggested.
The vehicle jolted and I almost fell,
When a pair of hands held my waist firmly and well.
I turned my head and found myself staring into a pair of eyes that told me he wasn't really himself.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I told myself that and ignored my feeling of dread.
I smiled in thanks and faced forward to the young girl,
And that was the moment my life begin to whirl.
As the train hummed and sighed into the tracks,
I felt the man silently attack.
I felt his body against mine,
Chills went right down my spine. He rubbed and moved his body against mine,
I kept telling myself I wanted to die.
When my body finally decided it had enough,
I tried my best to move away by being rough.
The young girl looked petrified at what was seen,
But the man gave my body a look that was obscene.
It took me a few moments to realise,
But all I could do was cry and listen to consolation that were actually hidden lies.
My friends would say that no one deserved this,
But behind my back they would blame my attire with a hiss.
Adults would hug me and empathise,
But they told their children that they and I should cut ties.
I begin to lie and isolate myself,
That my room was the only escape from this place I call Hell.
As I distanced myself so far away,
Did my mistakes and flaws I weigh.
"You're disgusting and a horrible person,
For anyone would have stood up for themselves before the situation worsened."
"You're nothing but a coward and an object,
For maybe that's why you never gained true respect."
When crying became a tiresome activity,
I found that cutting myself broke me away from all this so called 'negativity'.
I drew blood and focused on physical pain,
It helped my mind and sanity to maintain.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I tell myself that as I opened my eyes to meet my floor mat.
I look at the pills in my hand before swallowing them as I have planned.
For who could understand and love someone like me,
Who thinks that death is my only remedy.
Themes: Purpose, Violence
My lips are chapped and my shirt is drenched with sweat,
My palms are shaking, my knees buckling for the worry they undertake.
I feel the heat from the closed-up room,
Despite feeling the breeze of the air-con being loomed.
I take a seat on the satin bed,
Wondering whether I'm actually in over my head.
For pain is felt and rarely seen,
I tell myself for once, this will not be taken as another scene.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I tell myself that as I gripped the sheets tightly on my bed.
The clock strikes three and the curtains were drawn in.
My medicine box was scattered and free, sheets of tissues thrown overflew the bin.
The mirror on the dressing table across me, had whiteboard markings of words,
To describe the person in it I should actually see.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I looked at the palm of my hand, to the pills that I had spread.
I distract myself by thinking about how the first time my head started to scream out loud.
It was a few days before Christmas,
Where lights and decoration in malls were witnessed.
Pine trees were dressed with vibrant lights,
Even my friend and I were brimming with excitement from the sight.
Boxes and packages lined with ribbons and frills,
We couldn't wait to have our fill at the annual Christmas grill.
There would be gifts exchanges and a party with dances,
Though what I looked forward to was when the food passes.
Despite our intentions of wrapping up presents,
It seemed like others too had their own celebration.
The train was packed and my friend and I were separated,
I held onto the door handle as a young girl suggested.
The vehicle jolted and I almost fell,
When a pair of hands held my waist firmly and well.
I turned my head and found myself staring into a pair of eyes that told me he wasn't really himself.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I told myself that and ignored my feeling of dread.
I smiled in thanks and faced forward to the young girl,
And that was the moment my life begin to whirl.
As the train hummed and sighed into the tracks,
I felt the man silently attack.
I felt his body against mine,
Chills went right down my spine. He rubbed and moved his body against mine,
I kept telling myself I wanted to die.
When my body finally decided it had enough,
I tried my best to move away by being rough.
The young girl looked petrified at what was seen,
But the man gave my body a look that was obscene.
It took me a few moments to realise,
But all I could do was cry and listen to consolation that were actually hidden lies.
My friends would say that no one deserved this,
But behind my back they would blame my attire with a hiss.
Adults would hug me and empathise,
But they told their children that they and I should cut ties.
I begin to lie and isolate myself,
That my room was the only escape from this place I call Hell.
As I distanced myself so far away,
Did my mistakes and flaws I weigh.
"You're disgusting and a horrible person,
For anyone would have stood up for themselves before the situation worsened."
"You're nothing but a coward and an object,
For maybe that's why you never gained true respect."
When crying became a tiresome activity,
I found that cutting myself broke me away from all this so called 'negativity'.
I drew blood and focused on physical pain,
It helped my mind and sanity to maintain.
Relax, it's all in your head.
I tell myself that as I opened my eyes to meet my floor mat.
I look at the pills in my hand before swallowing them as I have planned.
For who could understand and love someone like me,
Who thinks that death is my only remedy.
By: @Dramma
Themes: Violence
Love is him saying sorry
I lost my temper
and me believing him.
Love is repeating
I'm sorry
nervous as he raises his fist
Love is the bruises that cover my body
like flowers in meadow
Love is a gasp,
as his fist flies
in a blink of an eye
Love is the trembling
When he's around
vulnerable like a kid in the cold
Love is the pain,
growing with every day
Love is the tears
running down my cheeks
Love is making excuses for him,
because he doesn't make them anymore.
Themes: Violence
Love is him saying sorry
I lost my temper
and me believing him.
Love is repeating
I'm sorry
nervous as he raises his fist
Love is the bruises that cover my body
like flowers in meadow
Love is a gasp,
as his fist flies
in a blink of an eye
Love is the trembling
When he's around
vulnerable like a kid in the cold
Love is the pain,
growing with every day
Love is the tears
running down my cheeks
Love is making excuses for him,
because he doesn't make them anymore.
By: @dark
Themes: Violence, Purpose, Optimism
Fate and Hope
The changing of leaves flew in the fall winds, making the regular world look even more beautiful before Judgement day.
Fate…
A man holding the world on his shoulders..
A modern day superman…
With no powers.
A predetermined destiny, one already foreseen. One who cannot change when their time came in the future. Lies told to protect the man who would save the human race.
For what cost..?
People who died in your name
A fake messiah?
Or
A hero?
A man breathing out words in a speaker bringing hope to everyone laid his hands to speak his final words.
"This is John Connor… There is No fate in what we make.."
Themes: Violence, Purpose, Optimism
Fate and Hope
The changing of leaves flew in the fall winds, making the regular world look even more beautiful before Judgement day.
Fate…
A man holding the world on his shoulders..
A modern day superman…
With no powers.
A predetermined destiny, one already foreseen. One who cannot change when their time came in the future. Lies told to protect the man who would save the human race.
For what cost..?
People who died in your name
A fake messiah?
Or
A hero?
A man breathing out words in a speaker bringing hope to everyone laid his hands to speak his final words.
"This is John Connor… There is No fate in what we make.."
By: Anonymous
Themes: Pride, Violence
Poetic Form: Pantoum
Filled with eyes of gold
Teeth sinking into flesh
Look upon the innocent that suffer
Avarice will be your vice
Teeth sinking into flesh
Smirk at the face of terror
Avarice will be your vice
The call of the king is too strong
Smirk at the face of terror
Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
The call of the king is too strong
You are too intoxicated by power to notice
Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
Masking the stench of entrails
You are too intoxicated by power to notice
Death awaits you at the end
Masking the stench of entrails
Look upon the innocent that suffer
Death awaits you at the end
Filled with eyes of gold
Themes: Pride, Violence
Poetic Form: Pantoum
Filled with eyes of gold
Teeth sinking into flesh
Look upon the innocent that suffer
Avarice will be your vice
Teeth sinking into flesh
Smirk at the face of terror
Avarice will be your vice
The call of the king is too strong
Smirk at the face of terror
Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
The call of the king is too strong
You are too intoxicated by power to notice
Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
Masking the stench of entrails
You are too intoxicated by power to notice
Death awaits you at the end
Masking the stench of entrails
Look upon the innocent that suffer
Death awaits you at the end
Filled with eyes of gold
By: Anonymous
Themes: Violence
Priority Seating by Anonymous
Silence and a cup of fear
I'm the ghost
crushed beneath her bootheel.
Lucky me, you say, lucky me.
You're floating in your jello island
and you just don't know.
How the footsteps come and go,
The strangers and the slamming doors,
The smoke so thick it sickens.
Booze and guns, thieves and liars,
Deals and death, then
Make a child for dollars.
Shut up, she screams,
Enjoy the show,
or tomorrow you'll be starring.
Scars? Not enough.
Pain. It should be worse.
Trouble? I'll show you some.
Lucky you, she says, lucky you.
It's not right to be so lucky.
Who was shot today.
Who ran away.
Who's coming back tomorrow.
You just don't know
Silence and a cup of fear
I'm a ghost beneath her bootheel.
Themes: Violence
Priority Seating by Anonymous
Silence and a cup of fear
I'm the ghost
crushed beneath her bootheel.
Lucky me, you say, lucky me.
You're floating in your jello island
and you just don't know.
How the footsteps come and go,
The strangers and the slamming doors,
The smoke so thick it sickens.
Booze and guns, thieves and liars,
Deals and death, then
Make a child for dollars.
Shut up, she screams,
Enjoy the show,
or tomorrow you'll be starring.
Scars? Not enough.
Pain. It should be worse.
Trouble? I'll show you some.
Lucky you, she says, lucky you.
It's not right to be so lucky.
Who was shot today.
Who ran away.
Who's coming back tomorrow.
You just don't know
Silence and a cup of fear
I'm a ghost beneath her bootheel.
By: @Greenie
Themes: Purpose, Violence
Shedding blood and felling foes
Years of this endless toil
Blood and screams
Shortened lives, hastened deaths
My life and my being
A harbinger to your foes
I simply a plaything
Your powerful, dutiful tool
Glistening red sword in hand
To you I turn, my liege
If it is peace you truly seek
Let us end this now
A momentary stabbing pain
And happiness awaits us
Fear not the darkness, my liege
For where you go, I follow
Themes: Purpose, Violence
Shedding blood and felling foes
Years of this endless toil
Blood and screams
Shortened lives, hastened deaths
My life and my being
A harbinger to your foes
I simply a plaything
Your powerful, dutiful tool
Glistening red sword in hand
To you I turn, my liege
If it is peace you truly seek
Let us end this now
A momentary stabbing pain
And happiness awaits us
Fear not the darkness, my liege
For where you go, I follow
By: @HerziQuerzi
Themes: Violence
He's so beautiful,
it makes me want to cry
Depicted by holy mirage
by a chapel's sharp planes
in jeans and shirt
of black and blue,
such battered hues
God help me
Ash on his fingers
and whiskey on his lips
His hands make a painting of my skin
Fingers over flesh,
leaving lover's marks
Oh God help me
He's so beautiful
He makes me want to cry
He must be beautiful
How else would he make me want to cry
With his lover's hands
he makes a painting of my skin
in black and blue,
such battered hues
God help me
And with ash on his fingers
or whiskey on his lips,
he makes me want to cry
He makes me want to die
He makes me want to cry
He's so beautiful
my broken mirage
is so beautiful
God help me
Themes: Violence
He's so beautiful,
it makes me want to cry
Depicted by holy mirage
by a chapel's sharp planes
in jeans and shirt
of black and blue,
such battered hues
God help me
Ash on his fingers
and whiskey on his lips
His hands make a painting of my skin
Fingers over flesh,
leaving lover's marks
Oh God help me
He's so beautiful
He makes me want to cry
He must be beautiful
How else would he make me want to cry
With his lover's hands
he makes a painting of my skin
in black and blue,
such battered hues
God help me
And with ash on his fingers
or whiskey on his lips,
he makes me want to cry
He makes me want to die
He makes me want to cry
He's so beautiful
my broken mirage
is so beautiful
God help me
By: @Quincunx
Themes: Pride, Violence
To touch an angel and watch her skin curl and char
To relive the taste of copper and concrete
To reach into one of our hearts and twist it from the inside out as I watch
These are cinders on the hearth
Flickers in the dreamlike past
People who remember their bird bones breaking are a dime a dozen
I have proven my worth
Ascending winglessly
A restless singing in my chest
"More"
Themes: Pride, Violence
To touch an angel and watch her skin curl and char
To relive the taste of copper and concrete
To reach into one of our hearts and twist it from the inside out as I watch
These are cinders on the hearth
Flickers in the dreamlike past
People who remember their bird bones breaking are a dime a dozen
I have proven my worth
Ascending winglessly
A restless singing in my chest
"More"
By: @Holmishire
Themes: Violence, Pride
Both brothers, sisters stand ready to fight
Dark, winged figures and flashes of light,
Demons bringing us back the night—
Angels singing of black and white.
Silent knight, holy knight,
Stay your blade; be not afraid.
Quarrels fought, may be now forgot;
Ashes and frost, your war has been lost.
Friends and once foes, held sword, took knee
Bodies soon froze by Lord's decree
The age of mankind, ended at the last
In death now aligned, mending hate long cast.
Themes: Violence, Pride
Both brothers, sisters stand ready to fight
Dark, winged figures and flashes of light,
Demons bringing us back the night—
Angels singing of black and white.
Silent knight, holy knight,
Stay your blade; be not afraid.
Quarrels fought, may be now forgot;
Ashes and frost, your war has been lost.
Friends and once foes, held sword, took knee
Bodies soon froze by Lord's decree
The age of mankind, ended at the last
In death now aligned, mending hate long cast.
By: @RiverNotch
Themes: Change vs Tradition, Purpose
Vertumnus and Pomona
He. And should we explore the purposes of love
by subverting the most ancient opposition?
But the way is dark: a tree stands for its end.
She. And on that tree hangs
the lovelorn Anaxarete.
He. It was Iphis who hanged himself:
Anaxarete, for rejecting him, turned to stone.
She. And around the corpse, apples
ripe and heavy. But even as you drop
your warty witch's face
here at the end, your nails remain uncut,
your arms still sag with age,
and your breasts...
(He seizes her. For a moment, all is still.)
She. You've already transitioned,
my brilliant little god.
Now peel me like an orange.
Themes: Change vs Tradition, Purpose
Vertumnus and Pomona
He. And should we explore the purposes of love
by subverting the most ancient opposition?
But the way is dark: a tree stands for its end.
She. And on that tree hangs
the lovelorn Anaxarete.
He. It was Iphis who hanged himself:
Anaxarete, for rejecting him, turned to stone.
She. And around the corpse, apples
ripe and heavy. But even as you drop
your warty witch's face
here at the end, your nails remain uncut,
your arms still sag with age,
and your breasts...
(He seizes her. For a moment, all is still.)
She. You've already transitioned,
my brilliant little god.
Now peel me like an orange.
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