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2016 Poetry Prize

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  • #16

    people power the solution,
    these days are days of movement,
    march on the streets for improvement,
    riots on global scale a one word union,
    a global contribution,
    a new world revolution,
    due to the new worlds illusion,
    life of ruin,
    cuz what they doing,
    I am not assuming,
    I haven't got the gun and started star shooting,
    with in the music some things moving,
    a new way introducing,
    exclusive diffusing,
    every thing I am reading I'm perusing,
    refusing to be with the confusing,
    this world is ours for the choosing,
    the elite be disapproving,
    so the media keep on confusing,
    but its fact we the one that keep reducing,
    execution of the poor for the rich it's amusing,

    Comment


    • #17

      lets keep on moving on to better days we are humans,
      lets keep on moving,
      let keep on improving,
      lets keep on improving to better days we are humans,
      life comes thru us we are fluent,
      even tho humans do things that are stupid,
      we all know right to the end we are still students,
      for the previous humankind we must be mutants,
      our minds been thru evolution, all due to the industrial revolution,
      we all have so much knowledge that if you don't use it you abuse it,
      you go thru your own devolution,
      bring every one down around because you came to a conclusion,
      which isn't the right solution,

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      • #18
        I wonder

        My heart was the lock
        Your heart was the key
        That opened everything
        Inside of me

        You're as innocent as the kids
        Who laugh and play
        When it comes down to one simple question
        What will you say?

        Will my heart be broken?
        Will I have to search again?
        Or
        Will I have found something?
        That may never
        END

        Comment


        • #19
          Her daddy gold cart rich so she drives the cadi
          shes In the club every with her friends acting nasty, shes in the club every night acting trashy.
          Throwing up in the bathroom someone call her friend ali, She needs help now like someones getting jumped in the alley.
          if she does change her ways she heading down death valley.
          An alcoholic crying out for help sending suicide warning shots the revolvers still revolving , Daddy`s constantly worried her phones he`s always calling,. Comes home every night stumbling, falling, Vision is blurry and slow like her mind was stalling.
          Was on her way up to her best high until she started falling. Now shes in her bed balling,
          And no one even cared or had a reaction so popping pills was the only course of action, Glided through life never could handle the traction,
          Couldnt stand to see herself not pampered her self satisfaction was 100% there wasnt even a fraction of a chance shed survive this downhill avalanche ...

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          • #20
            The Proud…

            We call ourselves Americans -
            A proud and moral group.
            We hold to life and liberty
            Within our stately troupes.
            Delighting in our history
            As decades pass and meld;
            Fulfilling dreams of yesterday
            Our forefathers once held.

            It's so serene, the image seen -
            America, the grand.
            Created by and for our needs
            We've fought to hold this land.
            Allegiance to the flag - we state;
            One nation under God.
            We burst with pride - mom - apple pie!
            Is this but a facade?

            The answer rests with whom you ask
            To find a clear response.
            Though most will say in vital ways
            We need a renaissance
            Of what it is that represents
            Our country as a whole;
            We need to take a good hard look -
            And find our common goals.

            For there are burrs embedded - deep
            Within our nation's heart.
            They burrow with their angry barbs
            And weaken all the parts
            With epitaphs of who fits in
            And who is fit to stay.
            We sit in judgment of ourselves!
            A truly sad display.

            America, the beautiful;
            The words our nation sings.
            They bring up thoughts of cherished lands -
            How freedom always rings.
            But in this day and hour we're at war
            Within our lines;
            Because the word 'American'
            Means more than it defines…

            A native or inhabitant
            Is what the word suggests.
            In looking at the U.S.A -
            We wear so many vests.
            The fullness of our culture comes
            From lots of avenues -
            From places all around the globe;
            Infusing countless views.

            And yet, to look inside our ranks
            There's loathing from within.
            It seems some think Americans
            Should match in thought and skin.
            Our history states otherwise -
            We have a massive sign
            Held close to breast - by she who holds
            The key to our design…

            She lifts her lamp to huddled masses -
            Yearning to be free.
            She says “Come send your homeless and
            Your tempest-tost to me.”
            And so in droves we’ve come to live
            From nations far and near;
            To have a place that we call home;
            Within a new frontier.

            America, ‘the melting pot’;
            It’s how our country’s known!
            With many varied cultures
            It is how our country’s grown!
            The richness of our customs
            Are entrenched throughout the land.
            So as we share our ways of life –
            We grow - thus we expand…

            Take heed - fellow Americans;
            We live within the shores
            That promise freedom to the world –
            Long opened are our doors.
            We mustn’t lose the standards
            That are built on our ideals;
            Appreciate the ‘whole’ we are!
            And we’ll begin to heal…

            Comment


            • #21
              I have some poems that don't rhyme, is that ok? I'm asking because they site is called rhymezone.

              Comment


            • #22
              A Voice to be Heard

              I know you've got your dreams,
              You know I've got mine
              Why can't I speak my mind to you, I'm like a mime
              And the only way I can communicate with you is through rhyme
              I try to voice my word; I try to spit it out
              I just want you to hear how I feel, even if I have to shout
              But, I refuse to complain, sit around and pout
              My tears have dried up anyway, I'm a dessert drought
              I try to find a new path; I try to find a new route
              If I wasn't a writer, my occupation would be a scout
              I figured out the problem, I've got no doubt
              I'm just one person, just one word
              Nothing I ever say is truly understood, my lines are blurred
              I need a group of people to back me up, I need a herd
              For this is the only way I can truly be heard
              So here I am now, taking up on this opportunity
              Writing a poem with others, were all in unity
              Submit,
              I just uploaded my poem to the community

              by Kouros Sadeghi-Nejad

              Legal Guardian: Hossein Sadeghi-Nejad
              Last edited by Kouros Sadeghi-Nejad; 02-25-2016, 05:04 PM.

              Comment


              • #23
                A Common Circle

                We stand in the circle,
                Together in common cause we celebrate,
                Sabbath or Esbat it matters not.
                We come together to show our love and devotion,
                To the God and Goddess this day.
                The Circle is cast and the Guardians are called,
                We evoke the Lord and Lady to join us,
                We dance and sing round and round, asking for their blessing.
                All individuals but for this short time we come together as one,
                Our energy empowers the circle,
                Priest and Priestess our focus, they are the key,
                To casting forth the energy we gather.
                Together as a community we are strong,
                Within the circle our works are great.
                The path matters not for when we stand together,
                In the circle for we are one.

                Comment


                • #24
                  Make It Right


                  Come from so far away, lookin’ for a better life
                  Break our backs just to have enough of what we deserve
                  Children callin’ out, daddy where have you been
                  It’s been too long and we’re missin’ you
                  Heads are strong, heads held high
                  Once was wrong, make it right

                  O’er the plains I see ways and means for freedom
                  In this field my hands move strong
                  Hope’s not enough, gotta make it through the rough
                  We have dreams to believe, and our visions to achieve
                  Heads are strong, heads held high
                  Once was wrong, make it right

                  We’ve given all we have to this circumstance
                  Workin’ for a better life and a chance to advance
                  Life moves on, children grow strong
                  Get an education, help to built our great nation
                  Heads are strong, heads held high
                  Once was wrong, make it right

                  Comment


                  • #25
                    In the rules it says that all contestants must be citizens of United States, Canada, the UK, Ireland, and Australia but I'm not. So does that mean I will be disqualified?

                    Comment


                    • #26
                      Coombe Lane

                      The postman comes at half past nine each day -
                      parcels at the door and letters in the letter box -
                      walks back to his bright red van, drives on his way.

                      Sporadic cars rush by from left to right,
                      from right to left, a surge diminishing
                      to silence, unrecognised, an alien elite.

                      Cyclists in dayglow yellow admonish these
                      slow tractors, trailers, four by fours, such heedless
                      hogs as might their gasping mouths foreclose.

                      Women who ride clop by, talk horse or home,
                      children in school, some part of mind fresh aired
                      by dewy hedge tops, morning mists half gone.

                      We and the birds observe with glancing eye
                      comings and goings, from house, hedge and tree,
                      staying put today, at home, watching the sky

                      Comment


                      • #27
                        I placed a poem on here last week but can't see it, did I put it in the wrong place?

                        Comment


                        • #28

                          Childhood memories -Fatma R.Rachici 2016

                          A small light is shining
                          In a corner of my naive and young mind
                          And the warm memories are coming
                          From the eyes of an innocent child.

                          A child who didn't believed in evil,
                          A child who wasn't afraid of needle,
                          A child who saw the pure and good in people,
                          A child who thought that nothing is lethal.

                          Smiles, laughs and flowers,
                          Dancing in the sun’s hours.

                          But soon the innocent child learns
                          That there are many, many storms,
                          And the evil actually, truly exists
                          In the depths of human mind’s abyss.

                          The trust is something hard to gain
                          When all lies in the existential chain.
                          The child felt betrayed and scared
                          When her own loved father...left.
                          The child didn't wanted to, she cries
                          And the tears were sinking her eyes,
                          The mother kept on lying,
                          -“Daddy will be back soon, stop crying
                          Until a new man came and asked the child
                          Fake smiling, to call him “dad”.
                          The child's innocence started to agonize,
                          And a new person started slowly to rise.

                          Evil, sins and sour,
                          Abhor the own birth hour.

                          A small dark light is shining
                          In a corner of my wise, old mind,
                          And the cold memories are coming
                          From the eyes of once an innocent child.
                          Last edited by Fatma Rachici; 03-05-2016, 08:00 AM.

                          Comment


                          • #29
                            For All the great poets posting here,
                            This is not where you'll be entered dear,
                            This is just the admins' Sticky note,
                            to know the rules of what you wrote.
                            So Back Out, click button New Topic,there
                            And Post, so that your work can be entered and clear
                            That you wish it to have a fair vote,
                            and it won't just become some sticky's lost tote.

                            Comment


                            • #30
                              @ admin: Attempting to attach .doc of writing in prefered format to my rhymezone submission has not worked, gives a warning "invalid file". I have a piece meant to be read by two, and the single column allowed in New Topic posts doesn't seem to work for it's reading. Wondering if there are any suggestions?

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