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Poetry Month 2024 Imagine Contest Vote

Vote for this month’s image prompt contest winner

Voting ends May 6th 2024.

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Backwards

By: Carrie

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

G
I wanna fly a kite
A
At night instead of day,
C
I wanna drive a big old truck
D
The opposite way
G
I wanna laugh when I’m sad,
C
And cry when I’m happy and gay
D A
I wanna do what no one’s done
G
Any other day.

G
I wanna wear all my clothes
A
Wear em all inside out,

C
I wanna be real quiet,
D
When everybody else wants to shout
G
I wanna see the stars
C
When everybody else sees the sun
D
I want my day to end
C G
When everybody else’s has begun.

C D
Wouldn’t it be weird, wouldn’t it be funny and strange
A
If everyone thought like this,
G
Slightly deranged.

 

 

Lost Love

By: Alex Tanner

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

For fleeting months we tarried,
Each time we met we knew
This may be the last time
For lovers hours are few.

If I love ten thousand women
Tis you I will recall;
You gave yourself so willing,
For your passion I did fall.

On black nights as the wind howls,
As I lie in a bed so cold,
Your soft voice echoes 'cross the years
To warm my lonely soul.

                                                                                                                                         

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 Whistle Stop Grove by Izzi Reinier

 

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Poetic Creations by Mark

 

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there you are by  leoferaco

 

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C H O S E N . . . r e m a i n

rise up from the rubble
bend comrade this burden of our winter
our bellies grumble
our minds sweep away the sweet dreams of mother and father
Like the new green shoots of beauty
Our homeland we reclaim
Our torch still burning
strong with pride
Our Nation still one

a job for you and I
we work
the toil for our future
now Our elders
and our youths shall smile
when the sun of spring
shows us as we gather
mile after mile

Venus in violet and teal

Venus in violet and teal
With the freedom of windswept tresses
As if it were an intentional statement of style

Ageless, whimsical and spacially vibrant
Wise in a silent wit and comfort

The company of odd believers
Each common space becomes an ashram in her wake

She hums while perusing garments in a dingy op shop
Where discarded boons are strewn haphazardly
The odd triumphant treasure lies enticingly covert among scrap and fodder,
She squints into the drizzling winter afternoon
But she brings brightness and possibility

cycles of a teenage heart break </3

how.......
how can you do this to me?
isnt it bad enough you hurt me?
i forget you for a moment
........ im happy
but now i cant stop crying and im
trying
whatever this is it sucks
i push and push you out of my mind
yet you find a way back in.
i tell you its ok and im fine
truth is im not im far from it.
i hate feeling this way
if i knew this would be so hard
i would have stayd alone.
if i knew id fall for you this hard
i would have left it alone
but i didnt....

FORLORN WINTER

FORLORN WINTER

Diagonal white stripes
pastelled hills,
may flowers danced for joy,
but that was yesterday.

Now northern winds stir flags
and blossom single, now has double blooms;
the birds sail past, no flap of wings
just glide on currents cold.

From northern hills comes winter,
sprightly as before, she knocks
so softly on our door,
she will come home again.

Memories

So beautifully penned
Of memories
I once wrote somewhere here
but one I shall now compose...
do not to the garbage bin of time dispose
memories are a joy forever I suppose
we live by the memory of time
long buried since
but memories are all reverie
in moments of existence
and
these returns to us
those loved ones sometimes
we call were mine..
such memories come back again
oft to our gain
but alas memories never fail in vain
they are the fruits of love
we had tasted once.

CLICKITY-CLACK

Some sickie took the clickity-clack
out of the new railroad tracks

It was bad enough they took away
the red caboose

Why can't they leave well enough alone?
I liked things the way they were

Clickity-clack, clickity-clack
coming down the railroad track

blowing that lonesome, wailing whistle
that I love to hear sing out to all

Telling us "hello", "goodbye
as it passes by in the night

Mr. Engineer, blow that whistle
one more time

As One

Back then when everything was in one place
not spread out through this great expanse of time-space
I wrote upon a star my history
then placed it in your eyes, to keep for me

Existing in that grey - a million stars
and when you smiled they all became quasars
illuminating deepest depths of soul
and my sun was the brightest of them all

From one creative source all ashes came
a multitude of difference from the same
devolving simpler rhythms, simpler rhymes
to form a long goodbye from shorter times

You would ride out

it was there
when you changed colour
and between sleep and awake
I loved every word

you would ride out and pick bumblebees

your dreaming dizziness
like a mad happy
slot machine

we had a coffee party behind your closed eyelids

to just hear
and caress the edge of your imagination
to feel you as happiness

Free Bird

I am a free bird
Just that I shot down from the sky
By a hunter’s game and left to die
Upon this rubble of insanity
I survived but a free bird in captivity
Now I rove the grim borders of this world
Looking out for a good grasp of wind
To fly high again, a free bird
But if the wind does not blow
And life is still grey without a glow
It’s okay; I am still a free bird, a sparrow
With liberty voice singing from my pain
The hunter’s heart will hear of my hurt
When with all of my might
I begin walk and walk

I imagined,but I never imagined...

I imagined like always you would
come,
Whistling that moronic tune,with
your breath soaked with rum.
Asking like always,if I have eaten,
before dressing my palm with
bills -spoils of a gambler's
war,taxed from those you had at
the table beaten. Though drink
was cascade-ing ur voice
sore,with a lil lime,you gulped
the gin more.
Today as always I waited
with pitched bliss,
Ignorant of what life had fated.
I imagined your coming,more
than your leaving, I imagined

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