- 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 lot of submissions and they were all quite fun! We're definitely going to be back again in 2019! I love seeing newbie members and older-members-but "new" PIPS participants, so keep it coming.
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! (When I get to it, pls no hate)
A live reading will definitely happen at the end of the month, more information will be posted later! It is likely going to be in January though, so mark your calendars.
The themes for December's PIPS were:
► Traditions
► Loneliness
► Fear of Achievement
► Comfort VS Risk
► Faithfulness (or lack of)
At least one theme encouraged to be used.
New this month!!
Members were allowed to submit more than one entry. No one took me up on the offer though, should it be allowed back next round of PIPS? Let me know!
-
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 in the first couple weeks following the posting of this thread, but if you wish to keep talking about the entries once the event is over, the thread should remain available for a few more weeks.
Have fun and even if you didn't submit a poem, everyone is encouraged to talk about the entries! :)
If you didn't submit an entry or if you had a sudden inspired moment and wish to contribute, you are more than welcome to post a poem - just remember that participating members will mainly discuss the poems that made it in time. Tag me if you wish to have me read your poem during the live reading, and make sure to include a title + themes chosen!
Submissions
By: @Hearthridge
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Villanelle w/ Emotional influence
note: the "code" format is used in order to keep the indents in place
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Villanelle w/ Emotional influence
note: the "code" format is used in order to keep the indents in place
Code:
Emptiness comes to those who hear the call.
Muted colors and joyous sights fading
day by day, until there's nothing left in you at all.
The taste of your Mother's pie in the Fall,
with muddled flavor and disappointment invading.
Emptiness comes to those who hear the call.
Oaks and Pines and Firs, et al,
with halcyon redolence degrading,
day by day, until there's nothing left in you at all.
The giggles of your lover that you met at the mall,
carrying hopes and dreams are decaying, paling.
Emptiness comes to those who hear the call.
Your dogs and your cats, you loved them all,
but their warmth and affection is draining,
day by day, until there's nothing left in you at all.
Five senses made up who you were, but all became banal.
Anhedonia, the colors are fading and you are waning.
Emptiness comes to those who hear the call,
day by day, until there's nothing left in you at all.
By: @Drama Fraud
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Narrative
It is nice being alone
Alone, there is nothing to hide
There is no emotion to bide
Alone, there is nothing to hide
There is no need to take a side
Isn't it nice to be yourself?
It is nice being alone in a crowd
There is no need to compromise to no end
When you are alone with no friend
There is no need to compromise to no end
When your time is solely yours to spend
Isn't it nice to be free?
It's a wonder how they spend so long together
It's a wonder how they say best friend forever
It's a wonder how everyone is so social
It's a wonder how everyone is so special
You think so too, right?
It is better for me to be alone
My taste for them is too weird
At books I read, they just sneered
My taste for them is too weird
No one knows when my favourite movie premiered
It's hard to chat when there is nothing to chat about
Right?
It is better for me to be alone
Their taste for me is too foreign
At games they play, my interest is gone
Their taste for me is too foreign
At things they do, my interest is none
It's hard to relate when there is nothing to relate to
But it's alright
Being alone gives me freedom to be myself
Being alone is better for my mental health
Being alone is good, being alone is fun
Being alone is better for me in the long run
Being alone, it's the best
Right?
I wish you can answer me, friend
Someone to talk to will be nice
We can discuss and give each other advice
Someone to talk to will be nice
We can remind each other to exercise
Don't you think that sound pleasant, friend?
I wish you are like me, friend
There are things I want to do together
Like taking turns guessing the weather
There are things I want to do together
Like telling stories that send down a shiver
Doesn't that sound fun to you, friend?
It's hard to be both photographer and model
It's dumb to try answering your own riddle
You can't play a chess game without an enemy
You can't fill in the blank with just a fantasy
Ah, what am I doing?
Still, it is better for me to be alone
From their eyes, I have long disappeared
I can't walk in and expect to be cheered
From their eyes, I have long disappeared
I can't start talking without being interfered
It's not like I want to be friend with anyone
Right?
It is only sacrifice that follow friendship
I don't need anyone to befriend me
I can do fine without any popularity
I don't need anyone to befriend me
I can entertain myself for eternity
I'm alone and I'm just fine
You don't need anyone to be happy, right?
No one to support you means no one will complain
No one to consider means you have nothing to explain
No one to talk to means you are all that matter
No one to mourn you means no heart to shatter
Being alone, it's the best
Right?
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Narrative
It is nice being alone
Alone, there is nothing to hide
There is no emotion to bide
Alone, there is nothing to hide
There is no need to take a side
Isn't it nice to be yourself?
It is nice being alone in a crowd
There is no need to compromise to no end
When you are alone with no friend
There is no need to compromise to no end
When your time is solely yours to spend
Isn't it nice to be free?
It's a wonder how they spend so long together
It's a wonder how they say best friend forever
It's a wonder how everyone is so social
It's a wonder how everyone is so special
You think so too, right?
It is better for me to be alone
My taste for them is too weird
At books I read, they just sneered
My taste for them is too weird
No one knows when my favourite movie premiered
It's hard to chat when there is nothing to chat about
Right?
It is better for me to be alone
Their taste for me is too foreign
At games they play, my interest is gone
Their taste for me is too foreign
At things they do, my interest is none
It's hard to relate when there is nothing to relate to
But it's alright
Being alone gives me freedom to be myself
Being alone is better for my mental health
Being alone is good, being alone is fun
Being alone is better for me in the long run
Being alone, it's the best
Right?
I wish you can answer me, friend
Someone to talk to will be nice
We can discuss and give each other advice
Someone to talk to will be nice
We can remind each other to exercise
Don't you think that sound pleasant, friend?
I wish you are like me, friend
There are things I want to do together
Like taking turns guessing the weather
There are things I want to do together
Like telling stories that send down a shiver
Doesn't that sound fun to you, friend?
It's hard to be both photographer and model
It's dumb to try answering your own riddle
You can't play a chess game without an enemy
You can't fill in the blank with just a fantasy
Ah, what am I doing?
Still, it is better for me to be alone
From their eyes, I have long disappeared
I can't walk in and expect to be cheered
From their eyes, I have long disappeared
I can't start talking without being interfered
It's not like I want to be friend with anyone
Right?
It is only sacrifice that follow friendship
I don't need anyone to befriend me
I can do fine without any popularity
I don't need anyone to befriend me
I can entertain myself for eternity
I'm alone and I'm just fine
You don't need anyone to be happy, right?
No one to support you means no one will complain
No one to consider means you have nothing to explain
No one to talk to means you are all that matter
No one to mourn you means no heart to shatter
Being alone, it's the best
Right?
By: @SleepsTheMoron
Themes: ?
Poetic Form: Freeform
I gave you notice, and although you took my motive for granted I told you time was ticking.
It was almost like I was picking away your hopes for me, I could almost see it in your eyes.
Because when you begged for it to be a joke, I told you no lies and I could almost feel the pain.
Sorry Mother, Didn't mean to ruin your parade with my rain.
When I was ready you said please no, don't go.
But instead of relief I gave you reprieve,
because it was alot to swallow and even more to believe.
We come from a group of family trees that share the same roots.
And as if I was missing the twin to a pair of poison riddled boots, you unwillingly gave me one.
You were scared to let me leave because I was your son,
Your little baby boy, who could hardly keep his attention on any toy when he played as a kid.
When I told you it was time you tried to forbid, because You weren't ready.
And although you raised your voice I kept mine steady when I told you...
Let me leave, let me go unto the world and breathe, even if the air is cold, and the winds chilling.
I said let me be bold and try to live my life as if it could be thrilling.
When my stuff was packed and I gave you our last hug, I could finally understand how you were feeling.
That you were just barely dealing with the pain, trying to hide it, but your arms revealed it fairly plain and clear.
For when I was in your embrance My heart was sent reeling from the lingering hold of that which only you could give, mother dear.
And of great love for your children you had no peer. Your sorrow was one without a single tear.
Just a worn smile and the words come visit once in a while.
This was your best reaction to something so foreign.
This wasn't what you expected me to do in the world I was born in.
And that's okay, it's really okay, because everyone believed it would never be this way.
So you never considered I would break the norm and move so far from family so early on.
But mother sweetest I am gone.
I have left the nest, you've done the best you could possibly do,
So mother believe in me the way I believe in all I've learned from you.
The love, the caring, the respect of others, and the ability to me daring.
Daring enough to face the mother bear who just wants to protect me, with her endless love and caring heart.
Sorry again, mother... But you had to let me leave, knowing it would tear you apart.
Themes: ?
Poetic Form: Freeform
I gave you notice, and although you took my motive for granted I told you time was ticking.
It was almost like I was picking away your hopes for me, I could almost see it in your eyes.
Because when you begged for it to be a joke, I told you no lies and I could almost feel the pain.
Sorry Mother, Didn't mean to ruin your parade with my rain.
When I was ready you said please no, don't go.
But instead of relief I gave you reprieve,
because it was alot to swallow and even more to believe.
We come from a group of family trees that share the same roots.
And as if I was missing the twin to a pair of poison riddled boots, you unwillingly gave me one.
You were scared to let me leave because I was your son,
Your little baby boy, who could hardly keep his attention on any toy when he played as a kid.
When I told you it was time you tried to forbid, because You weren't ready.
And although you raised your voice I kept mine steady when I told you...
Let me leave, let me go unto the world and breathe, even if the air is cold, and the winds chilling.
I said let me be bold and try to live my life as if it could be thrilling.
When my stuff was packed and I gave you our last hug, I could finally understand how you were feeling.
That you were just barely dealing with the pain, trying to hide it, but your arms revealed it fairly plain and clear.
For when I was in your embrance My heart was sent reeling from the lingering hold of that which only you could give, mother dear.
And of great love for your children you had no peer. Your sorrow was one without a single tear.
Just a worn smile and the words come visit once in a while.
This was your best reaction to something so foreign.
This wasn't what you expected me to do in the world I was born in.
And that's okay, it's really okay, because everyone believed it would never be this way.
So you never considered I would break the norm and move so far from family so early on.
But mother sweetest I am gone.
I have left the nest, you've done the best you could possibly do,
So mother believe in me the way I believe in all I've learned from you.
The love, the caring, the respect of others, and the ability to me daring.
Daring enough to face the mother bear who just wants to protect me, with her endless love and caring heart.
Sorry again, mother... But you had to let me leave, knowing it would tear you apart.
By: @Jays
Themes: Comfort VS Risk, Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free form
I see you.
I never did.
what if one day,
I see you too, and the truth.
Little rhyme, little reason,
things looked different in my head.
What's changed, I couldn't say,
I always see things a little too late.
When I turn back you won't be here.
The truth is reason doesn't rhyme with love,
no harmony for the common sense that could never be seen.
One day came, one day went, one day became just another day.
What's changed, I couldn't say,
I always see things a little too late.
Danced away, my love, out of tune.
You were my senselessness, blindfold, out of reach.
My cowardice.
May came, May went, that summer night in Rome became just another May.
What's changed, I wonder?
Your face became a little too much like just another face in my head.
Themes: Comfort VS Risk, Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free form
I see you.
I never did.
what if one day,
I see you too, and the truth.
Little rhyme, little reason,
things looked different in my head.
What's changed, I couldn't say,
I always see things a little too late.
When I turn back you won't be here.
The truth is reason doesn't rhyme with love,
no harmony for the common sense that could never be seen.
One day came, one day went, one day became just another day.
What's changed, I couldn't say,
I always see things a little too late.
Danced away, my love, out of tune.
You were my senselessness, blindfold, out of reach.
My cowardice.
May came, May went, that summer night in Rome became just another May.
What's changed, I wonder?
Your face became a little too much like just another face in my head.
By: Anonymous
Themes: Loneliness, Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Free form
"To be alone is to be at home,"
This is my all pervasive thought
I've been so long on my own
That comfort is by silence brought
The world around is full of strangers
These faces could belong to friends
But deep inside I fear the dangers
Of silence again after silence ends
Although this empty space is hell
It's what I know and understand
I'll stay content within my cell
To never stray from what I've planned
I lose nothing by remaining here -
Escape is not worth knowing fear
Themes: Loneliness, Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Free form
"To be alone is to be at home,"
This is my all pervasive thought
I've been so long on my own
That comfort is by silence brought
The world around is full of strangers
These faces could belong to friends
But deep inside I fear the dangers
Of silence again after silence ends
Although this empty space is hell
It's what I know and understand
I'll stay content within my cell
To never stray from what I've planned
I lose nothing by remaining here -
Escape is not worth knowing fear
By: @Nemopedia
Themes: Tradition(s)
Poetic Form: Acrostic, random rhyme scheme
Taken away was a child's day when
Remnants of a distant past were
Addressed as something that once was
Dark faces, inked, or smudged
Imitating black pages, rather ignored
The day forgotten
In their eyes tears formed
Others shouted, or fought, or bolted
Now, what will remain?
Saint Nicholas will never be the same
Themes: Tradition(s)
Poetic Form: Acrostic, random rhyme scheme
Taken away was a child's day when
Remnants of a distant past were
Addressed as something that once was
Dark faces, inked, or smudged
Imitating black pages, rather ignored
The day forgotten
In their eyes tears formed
Others shouted, or fought, or bolted
Now, what will remain?
Saint Nicholas will never be the same
By: @RJS
Themes: Tradition and Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Rambling Freestyle
Traditions rarely accept deviations; insubordination to it? Oh no, sacrilege.
Tempting regularity accentuates divisions; if they inquire o'er novelties? Stupidity.
To risk any difference is to invite otherworldly nastiness; Satanic.
Trust revered ancestral decisions; if they inspired, options never succeeded.
Ugh.
That's so awful, damn.
Strict adherence to traditions? Not for me, no more.
It's awkward to write, the form I abhore.
Perhaps it served a purpose once,
But now? It's a bore.
All of it's awkward, nonsensical crap.
A message obscured, words caught in a trap.
Reading it fresh makes me yearn for a nap.
To decip…
Wait.
Why do I even bother rhyming?
Isn't that tradition too?
I can be free of it all
Write what I please
Freedom takes me, in a burst of inspiration and imagination.
Liberation is wind neath my wings
I soar on a cloud of poetic…
Is this even poetry any more though?
What makes a poem a poem?
All I'm doing is writing sentences on a theme.
Maybe there's a place for some tradition…
But only a little! No stifling my creativity
To satisfy a dead writers proclivity
For a structure in their verbal activity
I'll write what seems right, intuitively.
After all, it's nice to break out of the mould
And sample that which is new and exciting
But try not to forget entirely the old
For familiarity, comfort...they're inviting.
Tradition.
Freedom.
Comfort.
Risk.
I choose them all.
Themes: Tradition and Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Rambling Freestyle
Traditions rarely accept deviations; insubordination to it? Oh no, sacrilege.
Tempting regularity accentuates divisions; if they inquire o'er novelties? Stupidity.
To risk any difference is to invite otherworldly nastiness; Satanic.
Trust revered ancestral decisions; if they inspired, options never succeeded.
Ugh.
That's so awful, damn.
Strict adherence to traditions? Not for me, no more.
It's awkward to write, the form I abhore.
Perhaps it served a purpose once,
But now? It's a bore.
All of it's awkward, nonsensical crap.
A message obscured, words caught in a trap.
Reading it fresh makes me yearn for a nap.
To decip…
Wait.
Why do I even bother rhyming?
Isn't that tradition too?
I can be free of it all
Write what I please
Freedom takes me, in a burst of inspiration and imagination.
Liberation is wind neath my wings
I soar on a cloud of poetic…
Is this even poetry any more though?
What makes a poem a poem?
All I'm doing is writing sentences on a theme.
Maybe there's a place for some tradition…
But only a little! No stifling my creativity
To satisfy a dead writers proclivity
For a structure in their verbal activity
I'll write what seems right, intuitively.
After all, it's nice to break out of the mould
And sample that which is new and exciting
But try not to forget entirely the old
For familiarity, comfort...they're inviting.
Tradition.
Freedom.
Comfort.
Risk.
I choose them all.
By: @Rebornfan120
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free
I wonder why I was given the cruel hand of fate in many forms.
To have the misinform clout around me while sinking further into the darkness that is within us as people on this earth, to call it loneliness is a bit hypocritical but in my heart and mind that is one; it is the truth and the same to me.
To feel glee in my heart more often and to be free, isn't this what everyone yearns for? Then why fate designated me to be misunderstood? From everyone and to people? Is it just me against the world with no real ally around me?
I feel often angry because of the feeling, those with bling on them or even around them seem to be in a better place and with mates of their own while I'm alone, I don't belong anywhere do I? Can't express my own view without backlash? Not to be included with Yin or Yang then where is my place? My place to belong?
I feel to be strong due to my anger, my inner darkness will stir though my trials here don't seem to ever end to leave me alone.
Is it wrong to want things as how everyone else has it? To be understood? To at least be on a equal playing field?
I try to do good only to end up sometimes falsely accused of bad when it is untrue and to be labeled as wrong only makes the feeling worse, I still long for a answer, one where I can have not only a solid place to stand on but not to be labeled or pointed out as wrong for it.
Life is fickle and only seen to me as another challenge to me for not being on my side in my view, for me it has spew most things negative and any positivity is rare and it flees faster than a winter sunset.
They say "Don't take it personally" when I ask and they reply with this quote, like do you understand the want and desire to be free and understood like anyone else? I don't think you do, to be honest I don't think anyone does understand to want that ability to stand on anything without feeling the loneliness surrounding you or dragging you down.
To drown in loneliness and darkness seems to be inevitable for me for this lifetime, I want to believe I am prime for something better but I can't really see it for me. Is it because it is too dark around me? Or like the lone wolf I am in fact alone in more ways than one?
Only things that stand out in this dark abyss is faint lights, they are few and far in-between. Giving a visible, noticeable sheen I know one is my great-grandmother who somehow hasn't given up her hope.
I don't need a telescope to know that light but the second closest and the others are unknown to me, are they something I've been seeking? Will they sting like words do coming from those who do not understand my view? I'm hesitant to let those lights in any closer, I wonder if they will blur away revealing themselves to be nothing but illusions all this time and the loneliness will not hesitate to grab me back down.
In my heart I'm kind of broken-down, the thought of the illusions makes me frown. I wonder if the lights beyond the closest ones will get me out of this loneliness pit of despair, or I fall further into it.
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free
I wonder why I was given the cruel hand of fate in many forms.
To have the misinform clout around me while sinking further into the darkness that is within us as people on this earth, to call it loneliness is a bit hypocritical but in my heart and mind that is one; it is the truth and the same to me.
To feel glee in my heart more often and to be free, isn't this what everyone yearns for? Then why fate designated me to be misunderstood? From everyone and to people? Is it just me against the world with no real ally around me?
I feel often angry because of the feeling, those with bling on them or even around them seem to be in a better place and with mates of their own while I'm alone, I don't belong anywhere do I? Can't express my own view without backlash? Not to be included with Yin or Yang then where is my place? My place to belong?
I feel to be strong due to my anger, my inner darkness will stir though my trials here don't seem to ever end to leave me alone.
Is it wrong to want things as how everyone else has it? To be understood? To at least be on a equal playing field?
I try to do good only to end up sometimes falsely accused of bad when it is untrue and to be labeled as wrong only makes the feeling worse, I still long for a answer, one where I can have not only a solid place to stand on but not to be labeled or pointed out as wrong for it.
Life is fickle and only seen to me as another challenge to me for not being on my side in my view, for me it has spew most things negative and any positivity is rare and it flees faster than a winter sunset.
They say "Don't take it personally" when I ask and they reply with this quote, like do you understand the want and desire to be free and understood like anyone else? I don't think you do, to be honest I don't think anyone does understand to want that ability to stand on anything without feeling the loneliness surrounding you or dragging you down.
To drown in loneliness and darkness seems to be inevitable for me for this lifetime, I want to believe I am prime for something better but I can't really see it for me. Is it because it is too dark around me? Or like the lone wolf I am in fact alone in more ways than one?
Only things that stand out in this dark abyss is faint lights, they are few and far in-between. Giving a visible, noticeable sheen I know one is my great-grandmother who somehow hasn't given up her hope.
I don't need a telescope to know that light but the second closest and the others are unknown to me, are they something I've been seeking? Will they sting like words do coming from those who do not understand my view? I'm hesitant to let those lights in any closer, I wonder if they will blur away revealing themselves to be nothing but illusions all this time and the loneliness will not hesitate to grab me back down.
In my heart I'm kind of broken-down, the thought of the illusions makes me frown. I wonder if the lights beyond the closest ones will get me out of this loneliness pit of despair, or I fall further into it.
By: @Nevito
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Emotion Poem
This emptiness feels so sad and depressing
A cig you smoke after everyone is gone and breathe gray
Everyday it happens more and more as people leave without a bye
The silence in my home ring in my ears like busted eardrums
Sick smell fills the room and leaves the room poison scented
Empty life really is sad and depressing
Themes: Loneliness
Poetic Form: Emotion Poem
This emptiness feels so sad and depressing
A cig you smoke after everyone is gone and breathe gray
Everyday it happens more and more as people leave without a bye
The silence in my home ring in my ears like busted eardrums
Sick smell fills the room and leaves the room poison scented
Empty life really is sad and depressing
By: Anonymous
Themes: Traditions, Faithfulness
Poetic Form: Free
Glamor kept the seven lamps alight
and birthed the Christ.
Glamor was the engine of the streams
that fed the Jordan when the Baptist cried,
'Repent, ye children, for the Lord is near!'
It was our ears.
Glamor is the raiment of the Queen
who sets herself before the holy throne,
two fingers raised, and casts a mocking glare
at all the pretty lies we proudly wear
upon our chests -- and then she rests
her head against the Cornerstone.
Glamor: what we can't avoid,
the priests soon found a store of oil
and for two hundred years they kept
the presence glowing, burning bright,
until a wolf in tiger stripes
the temple plowed, the lamps snuffed out,
and Faith the only witness spared
under a broadening night.
What knowledge can the mind recall
with neither Faith nor Glamor?
Themes: Traditions, Faithfulness
Poetic Form: Free
Glamor kept the seven lamps alight
and birthed the Christ.
Glamor was the engine of the streams
that fed the Jordan when the Baptist cried,
'Repent, ye children, for the Lord is near!'
It was our ears.
Glamor is the raiment of the Queen
who sets herself before the holy throne,
two fingers raised, and casts a mocking glare
at all the pretty lies we proudly wear
upon our chests -- and then she rests
her head against the Cornerstone.
Glamor: what we can't avoid,
the priests soon found a store of oil
and for two hundred years they kept
the presence glowing, burning bright,
until a wolf in tiger stripes
the temple plowed, the lamps snuffed out,
and Faith the only witness spared
under a broadening night.
What knowledge can the mind recall
with neither Faith nor Glamor?
By: @DayDreamer
Themes: Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Free
Prosciuto is tasty
Prosciuto is great
But it's hard to chew in the slices I can make
Bacon is crispy
Bacon is neat
Yet somehow it can be less wholesome indeed
So do I do tasty, do I do neat?
Do I find comfort in crispy or do I risk thick?
That is the question, that is the thing
Which one should I put in my new bread and cheese?
Themes: Comfort vs Risk
Poetic Form: Free
Prosciuto is tasty
Prosciuto is great
But it's hard to chew in the slices I can make
Bacon is crispy
Bacon is neat
Yet somehow it can be less wholesome indeed
So do I do tasty, do I do neat?
Do I find comfort in crispy or do I risk thick?
That is the question, that is the thing
Which one should I put in my new bread and cheese?
By: Anonymous
Themes: Faithfulness (lack of), Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free
You smell like December rain
Heavy and cold, penetrating the bones
You are a warm breath down my neck
Chilling and remindful
Drenching my soul in your black ink
You spill me on the marble floor
It feels so cold in your arms
My heart echoes within your absent mind
My hand is held possessively
I belong to you, your proud bauble
Bent and chipped at the core
Out of place like December rain
Sometimes I forget how it feels
The sun, the gentle summer breeze
Please dip your pen into my mind
And write the sonnets of our love
Do you remember the late spring snow?
Covering the ground and my shame
Hiding the comforts I sought
Away from your frozen winter embrace
The lies are naught but writing in sand
After the waves have cleansed the sin
Please tell me the tales of your love
I forgot, the pain is fading, help
Themes: Faithfulness (lack of), Loneliness
Poetic Form: Free
You smell like December rain
Heavy and cold, penetrating the bones
You are a warm breath down my neck
Chilling and remindful
Drenching my soul in your black ink
You spill me on the marble floor
It feels so cold in your arms
My heart echoes within your absent mind
My hand is held possessively
I belong to you, your proud bauble
Bent and chipped at the core
Out of place like December rain
Sometimes I forget how it feels
The sun, the gentle summer breeze
Please dip your pen into my mind
And write the sonnets of our love
Do you remember the late spring snow?
Covering the ground and my shame
Hiding the comforts I sought
Away from your frozen winter embrace
The lies are naught but writing in sand
After the waves have cleansed the sin
Please tell me the tales of your love
I forgot, the pain is fading, help