yes! still spots ~~ @fortis thank you for signing up! if the numbers end up weird you are absolutely for a sub, but i’m hoping things will average out !
name: key/string/perks pronouns: she/her/hers and they/them/theirs
novel: the clocktower (camp nano apr 24) poetry: the beauty of the untold (napo 2024)
As there are 21 participants, the brackets may look a bit different than last years, but the ultimate goal is the same — to find the best poet amongst the group. ^^
Round One Pairings will be announced April 5th, while poems must be posted by April 9th 10:00 pm PDT - results alongside the next round pairings will be announced on April 12th.
From this round, eight poets will move on, but there is a redemption round for everyone else (all thirteen of you), if you’d like to continue with the competition.
Please submit one poem below in this thread, either using a spoiler, plain text, or an image. You may edit your poem whenever or switch it with another at any time before the deadline. If you do edit your poem, please indicate that in your post, i.e., [EDITED] or something alike.
Ask any questions below and good luck!
name: key/string/perks pronouns: she/her/hers and they/them/theirs
novel: the clocktower (camp nano apr 24) poetry: the beauty of the untold (napo 2024)
*Edited* I changed my mind, this one feels more meaningful.
Missing Carriages
Sometimes missed carriages are fast, left alone with so much past you're unbalanced, last-in-line, side-lined ready to be redefined as the woman who was left behind.
Other times they make you wait, make you skate on thin ice, clinging to the ledge baited, fated to keep feeling on edge, wedged between the party goers and no-showers.
I imagine the other ladies at the places, glowing faces, heaping bosoms as they twirl - skirts unfurling, they un-girling into that wide yonder while I ponder the distance between my house and theirs.
They don't tell you how many you might miss- carriages slipping out of my hands, branded as hope- less, such a mess, can't even address the issue like that makes it less to not admit it happened to you too.
darling, you keep drinking gasoline. they're playing death wishes on the radio to the rhythm of your heartbeat. i feel it in the vibrations coming from the dashboard. you feel it in the taps on your ribcage when you inhale.
(i can't tell where that cracking sound is coming from; you or the radio?)
darling, you look so pretty when you drink gasoline, but have you ever tried a pack of cigarettes? the radio has fizzled out and we are left to create our own death wish heartbeats. and you try to feel your ribcage, but nothing is there.
(now, the gps is leading us in directions we promised we'd never travel.)
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
The bright stars gleamed in yonder skies as I unleashed my earthly sighs, watching them twinkle, blazing bright, balls of fire, all gleaming with light.
The faint clouds stood still; and up my back, I felt a chill. A ghost appeared with hair of gray and took my hand-- led me astray.
Into the night we glided o'er fields. Her eyes met mine; I refused to yield as we flew o'er wheat and barley grass, great rolling streams and Misty Pass.
She took me to the mountains old and gently tapped on the doors of gold; answering us came the Dwarf King, and on his finger was a signet ring.
The King was Arnot, lord of the valley, and his lightweight clothes were of challis. He deeply bowed and swept us inside, where music and dancing never subside.
We danced to a music lost in ages since the Dark Days began with the birth of a Prince. The drums were beat, the minstrels sang, and at the gates, the trumpets rang.
Then I awoke in my linen bed, having ne'er left home, or eve my bed. I wasn't there-- I had merely a dream. But the ghost girl's heart was in my embrace.
The politics of the world may be corrupt, but that does not mean that we must be corrupted ourselves.
she chirps and twitters and flaps like an angel and lives happy from morning to night she never sees danger; i save her from fright she's my life, my Yellow-Billed Kite
she never finds pain, and she dwells with no fear her smiles are pure, her songs i can hear her beautiful feathers, i truly hold dear my heart breaks with longing when she is not near
one night i did stumble across a man stomping with raggedy shoes he quietly asked me, "please choose," "which one's heart you would like to lose."
i inquired, for i desired, to see what he meant he unfolded his cloak, and unleashed a scent the residue of the evil he sent and the aroma of death without one's consent
i shouted in fear, for this man seemed unclear if he would kill me; my heart filled with drear he grinned and asked me, "your death is not near," "it is in fact someone else i wish to spear."
i backed far away, "stay as far as you may!" "i have no wish to murder and slay!" he chuckled, "but what if i say," "that your Kite is the one that I want to flay."
i screamed, "please, kind gent, do not do so!" "if my Kite were gone, i would be spun into woe!" he laughed and pointed, "but i want the Kite, though!" "if you don't show me where that Kite is, you will be my foe."
in rage, i kicked and punched and spat and ripped his shoes, his coat, his hat i scarred his face like a mad cat i howled, 'don't touch my Kite, you rat."
i stumbled home with blood in my hands my victory was unlike any other in the lands i washed my skin in the sea by the sands and i returned to the tree where my Kite still stands
she chirps and twitters and flaps like an angel and lives happy from morning to night she never sees danger, nor flees from a fright she is my life, my Yellow-Billed Kite
Last edited by yosh on Wed Apr 14, 2021 12:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
In case you do not understand what's written in that photo
Autobiography of a metal lock
There was a time in ancient days When people used to trust me Nowadays, people say, ‘Traitor! You set all our treasures free!’ ‘Now we have to file a case!’
Can you tell me What's my mistake? I can't see any. It's only for your sake.
That I tolerate such pain When people want to break me It's the mistake of those men Who want to replace me
With the password locks Why? They are safer. When men hit me with rocks, Still I bear that pain which seems to be an attempt to murder
It's only to protect your treasure It's only to protect you That I try to the highest measure Think twice before blaming me for the issue That your treasure is lost...
Last edited by ForeverYoung299 on Sat Apr 10, 2021 2:17 am, edited 4 times in total.
BFF Someone called me a BFF It’s supposed to mean Best Friend Forever I don’t know what BFF is supposed to be like I don’t know if friends last forever I don’t know how to react
I just want to be happy
But I don’t know if it’s a joke or not But I don’t know if we are But I feel like I don’t deserve a BFF
I was thinking to do another poem but it's a pretty long poem so...I might post that if I'm going on the second round.
!
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