Competitions
Current Competition: Hurricane Katrina Relief
Competition Details: 'n light of the situation going on since Hurricane Katrina, the
contest is to write a tribute for/to the old New Orleans and for the
lives lost and those who are in mourning. Anything directly linking to
the hurricane and the people. Infernal-Raynata will then send our poetry along with
the canned-goods and money people are currently giving.
Entry Deadline: September 16, 2005 • 8 PM GMT
First Place: 1-month subscription to DeviantART and featured poet for a month
Second Place: Featured poet for a week and a link in the community journal
Third Place: A link in the community journal
Last Competition: Fallen Leaves
Competition Details:
Write a poem in any style- be it haiku, rhyming, personal style, etc.- with the title, topic or involvement of "Fallen Leaves".
Entry Deadline: August 20, 2005 • 8 PM GMT
Winning Poems:
"The Fallen Leaves of My Lady" by Nemo-Outis
Love is a garden,
we each form its detail,
my love was a tree of resplendent beauty,
whos glory should have never failed.
With her auburn crown, swaying in the autumn wind,
she tied strong roots in my heart,
and grasping to her slender limbs she hoisted me into the air.
Seated upon her curved shoulder, I memorized that regal face,
commiting each line of perfection,
admiring the sparkle in her hair.
She alone remained so faire,
long after her sisters pride had spilt to the ground,
it crunching beneath my feet in a sea of yellow, and red.
She shone outside my window, glimmering like the dawn,
even in the ever darking nights, that worked to put the world to sleep,
but not my lady, she continued to fight.
And I had thought her immortal,
'til I woke one morn, after winters first flurry,
and found her leaves,
scattered like blush tears upon the cheek of the ground.
And I wept for my lady,
a blanket of white snow upon her balded head,
and in in desperate grief I gathered what leaves could be found.
And placing them gingerly upon my pillow, I continued to weep,
and I spent my tears crying,
over my Queen's broken crown.
Untitled by trish-dancegurl
we couldn't,
[not for a second], be
bothered by the air
around our sordid selves, the
chilling fall breeze,
the raindrop daggers
or the swirling paper
tornados.
it's three past seven,
an october eve, and i'm
bleeding for the first
time, as i tread past the old,
thin forest, too tired for even
the sleepiest of leaves.
while winter creeps upon
my limbs, hiding in my worn-out
windbreaker, i'm ready to shed
this of me, however prematurely,
however all-too-green.
in spite of chlorophyll, i
give into perpetual biology,
and how with each night,
subsequently colder, you plucked
some from me to watch me fall.
[bare by christmas, he asked, i
was sure, and those bits of me
lay dead on the ground. i'm frail
and fallen, as he leaves.]
shiver, but there's a distant
glimmer, of warmer days and
a bright new stage, and [save the
one you took up to run with you] the
fallen leaves rise and cover
me.
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