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Who will win the August Form Challenge?
| 10 votes
Toilet Paper and Flu SeasonToilet Paper and Flu Season
by MagicalJoey
10-8-14
“The toilet paper is a lie,”
Say tissues floating from on high.
Now is the time to say goodbye;
It’s time to die, it’s time to die.
Let’s blow your nose in dead of night
While angels watch your snotty plight.
The PC screen gives eerie light;
So fight the fight, so fight the fight.
You stay up late within your room
While tissues prophesy your doom
And the damned flu fills you with gloom;
There is no boom, there is no boom.
So now you lay you down to sleep,
You’re coughing hard and sniffing deep.
Head clouded as to sleep you creep;
Wake to the beep, wake to the beep.Ann-ClaireHello there, Mrs.Thompson, say
by Diluculi
May Ann-Claire please come out today?
It is a sunny day today,
We want to play, we want to play!
What do you mean, she is not there?
Where did she go then, tell me, where?
What do you mean by "I don't care!"?
Where is Ann-Claire, where is Ann-Claire?
Guys, Look! Up there, the window, d'ya see?
Ann-Claire's here, she just waved at me!
Now help me climbing up that tree!
Let's help her flee, let's help her flee!
Distract her mum, who's the bad guy!
Ann-Claire, come with us, don't be shy!
Wait, how did you get that black eye?
And please don't lie, and please don't lie!
Oh shit, your mum's coming, time's scant
Please hurry and let's go to my aunt!
Stop saying, claiming that you can't,
Just let her rant, just let her rant!
Boy, that was close, how did it go?
What's going on there, let us know!
Why did she stay? Was she too slow?
Ann-Claire said no, Ann Claire said no...Seasons of the HeartWinter wind chills, pulse just beating,
by xxEmi-AnGeL-chanxx
Thunder storms and rain drops streaming.
Winter strangled hearts, cold seeping.
Moments fleeting, moments fleeting.
Spring flowers blooming, soft breeze blows,
Water's sweet kisses; dew-grass glows.
Hearts healing as shy sun beams flow.
We can all grow, we can all grow.
The sun's light grows with strength and flair,
Blinding, warming all in its glare.
Passionate hearts walking on air.
No time to care, no time to care.
Red leaves falling drift, slowing time,
Soft sun is setting, finishing its clime.
Love's heat lingers, withstanding time.
Sweet hearts still chime, sweet hearts still chime.The Death of SpringShe watched her dreams go down the drain,
by Dream-Catcher76
Her shoulders could not hold the strain.
They are now gone, the tears that stain,
Lost in the rain, lost in the rain.
Her love, a small withering bud,
Picked, plucked, stomped, and drug through the mud,
was lost in the turbulent flood,
Rivers of blood, rivers of blood.
Pruned was her fate, a snipped gold string,
On her hand sat a cold, gold ring,
And now the birds, woefully, sing,
“The Death of Spring, the Death of Spring!”
Which poetry form should we work with next:
| 9 votes
- The Kyrielle
- The Indriso
- The Monotetra
Vote for the March/April Form Champion:
| 32 votes
31. FlowerYou, my love, are like a flower:
by Diluculi
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Facing shower after shower
Of icy rain, snow and hail.
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Of icy rain, snow and hail
Still you'll bloom in spring again.
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Facing shower after shower
Still you'll bloom in spring again:
You, my love, are like a flower.Painted IcePainted Ice:
by MagicalJoey
17-04-14
100 Themes #64 - Frost
Coloured swirls of painted ice
In clouds gathered from dusk ‘til dawn.
Frosted flakes of snow, so nice
And cold upon this rainbow morn’.
In clouds gathered from dusk ‘til dawn,
Snowflakes fly like birds of prey.
And cold upon this rainbow morn’
Glitter snowflakes white and grey.
Snowflakes fly like birds of prey,
In a blizzard the living are consumed.
Glitter snowflakes white and grey
Shining bright through sun and moon.
In a blizzard the living are consumed,
Frosted flakes of snow, so nice,
Shining bright through sun and moon;
Coloured swirls of painted ice.longingi scuff at sidewalk bottle caps,
by chasingcloudbursts
mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes.
once, the clock hands pointed north. they mock me now with each degree elapsed,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.
mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes,
i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede!
i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads.
every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede,
the cobwebs binding me to mute labyrinths of time might let me go.
every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
your redwood hands could be the ones to rescue me, and then
the cobwebs
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