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Poetry Contest Voting Thread #1


Azriel

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Please Read both threads, and then vote for your favorite in the Poll - please do not use these threads to comment on the work. Poll choices are in the order that the poems appear in the thread.

We will close voting on Sunday at Midnight.

Winners announced on Monday.

Thank you to all who participated. The response was better than I could have hoped for!

God Bless!

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Untitled #1

young one they said
open your heart
pour in your soul
i found myself empty

the day wears on
climates change
flowers lean towards the sun

she told me she could drink a case of me
i reopened my heart
i poured in my newfound soul
and to my pleasant surprised found myself a young one again

the day wears on
climates change
flowers bloom

i grasp for the essence which eludes me
my heart is lost
my soul is at sea
i put my trust in the offing

wanting to feel her
smell her
see her

the day wears on
climates change
flowers wilt

desperate like a lion in winter
searching for my heart
searching for my soul
i am broken

curtains cover windows
i feel her
smell her
see her
and once again i am young one - full to the brim

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Untitled #2

Life is sweet
All the things I can do,
All the people I can meet.
At night I lie in bed and think,
God, please let me know the link
That I need to connect to You
For me to taste the bounty of all
Life has to offer.
For You are what makes lives prosper,
You are what makes life sweet.
One day, I hope,
It will be You I will meet.
And on that day will be
True happiness for You,
And for me.

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There is an Art

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
letting the drops
fall as though not
consumed in thought.
Letting the feet
fall just right,
adjusting the weight,
so that the
puddles will not splash,
or moving the arms at
The right speed,
so as to not
rush the body.

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
moving at the right pace,
so as to not
fall
into your mind,
or dreaming of
the liquid touch,
as though not consumed in thought.

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
letting the stream
of days not
settle in a puddle,
letting the dark sky not
shadow the soul,
or dancing
in metaphors,
so as to avoid
philosophy.

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
tasting the drops
that fall from
the sky,
careful, so as to not
let your own drops
mingle with those
from the clouds,
watching
the litlte rivers
form, on the clear
panes of consciousness.

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
deceiving the soul to joy
by focusing on the sun,
though hidden,
occasionally proceeding
from a break:
or by singing,
so as to not
be overcome
by melancholy.

There is an art
to walking in the rain,
which only finds perfection
when drops fall to the ground,
and liquid realities
splash
in the puddles
of imagination

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Untitled #3

DarkNight youth…
Tormentorture; Tomb of Truth
memory subdued.
“Piercing Committee i Hear”
NeverendingRingingCursingSingingVoices…
SELFEAR.
Nocturnal decease; insomni-a-wake ...
Anxious Repose, pyramidic contemplate.
“Pyramid” endeavor of repose…
...Trinity asleep my soul?

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Untitled #4

I haven't lived their life
I haven't felt their pain
But I see them hurt
I see them in pain
And how can I not hurt too?

So many lives wasted
So many good people gone
I may not be in the streets
But I know it's a waste
I know it's not right
I know it's my shame, too

I'm not in a gang, I've never been homeless
But I know that when people die, it's wrong
I know when children live in the gutter
And eat out of trashcans, it's wrong

Each of us helps or hurts one another
Why can't we help each other
Why can we see how easy it is

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Untitled #5

“Mary, Queen of Heaven”
Hail Queen of Heaven
Most blessed are you
Your beauty and perfect grace
Lead us on the path to eternal life

Handmaid of the Lord
Mother of all peoples
Your intercession makes us faithful
And your image keeps us strong

Holy Mother of God
We strive to be like you
Your maternal perfection
Is a model for our lives

In hard times we pray to you
In granting our requests, you keep us abreast
At Guadalupe we look upon your face
And try to comprehend your divine grace

As Fatima’s fragrant flowers
Sooth us like the dove
Many ages, have you appeared
Our Lady, you we truly love

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Untitled #6

Reveal to me the truths
That you reserve within
Your soul remains as such
A mystery to mine own
Beauty is that which is seen
But better is that which is felt
For your soul is comelier
Than a face could ever be
And I wish to gaze upon it
For all eternity.

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Hope

Why do we fear such little things,
That are so easy to comprehend?

Why are we bold in the face of danger?
For it may end there and then.

geniuses may go, where angels dare not tread,
While fear may lie in the hearts of men.

Walk softly my soul for we have hope!
Why should we fear what lies ahead.

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Untitled #7

There are so many things that I want to forget,
memories of pain, memories of sorrow –
memories which are but bitter shards of steel.
I want to forget anguish which rends the heart,
to become again innocent, unmarred by suffering.
I do not know why I walked the path I did,
if it was a path I chose, or a path appointed
I do not know.
I cannot see beyond the shadows and fog
through which I came, that twisted path
I walked, not so very long ago.

I want to forget the despair, but I shall not,
for I refuse to forget the joy one may find
in the dark depths of despair.
I want to forget true pain, but not at the cost
of forgetting true happiness.

Though I am haunted by the shadows of sorrow
which remain in my mind like scars,
I would not choose to undo them, even if I could,
for the pain of yesterday is the salve of today,
the pain of today is the balm of tomorrow.

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The Unidentified Irritation

Pass through the arches to say my prayer to St. Thomas
A cool breath is taken in without any need of the winter fresh wrapper.
Bitter cold with the sun shows itself in my face to play me like a tease
The winds pick at my ears but its okay, I can hold it.
They push at the opening of my sleeve
Gritting my teeth with blue lips I'm still good
I'm holding it in.
My feet moonwalk across the eyes of watchers as if I have no problem.
Then it hits me
First in my head and then back down through my neck
Hastily I rush to the door leaving a heady scent of worry.
The thought of falling on my ass would force my pants to be wet
Such embarrassment brings more pain than pain itself.
Strive for that door
Running to see it, anticipating it's coming.
Imagine the melted ice, flowing water down to the larger puddle.
Running to escape such a lie I push the door.
Drop my belongings, and one last uncontrollable shiver leaves my body
The salty smell melts the ice only to trick my eyes into seeing the winter depart.
Is this the moment? Have I escaped it?
Sigh...I shake the remaining snow off my feet and I flush it out of my misery.
Give the bright smile, and I turn only to glimpse at what I ran to see
What I anticipated
The sunshine itself without the cold...the white porcelain filled half way

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I am

from what people tell me,
i am;
but i am ready to disagree.
for i have yet to become
and what i am is pale in comparison.

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Untitled #8

Don't know what to think
Don't know what to feel
Things keep getting thrown my way
I'm just trying to heal
So tell me how you really feel
I'm hating all the lies
Just tell me the truth
'Cause I can see it in your eyes
A single tear falls from my eye
And hits the ground for you
I don't know if you're worth it
I don't know if you're true
I'm in my own living hell
Trying to decipher you
So tell me if it's working
Tell me if it's right
Because all of this is just so messed up
I can't even sleep at night
My hands are shaking
I'm just so weak...

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Fire

To purify or just to die
The flames both burn the same
Why then do I ever choose the latter?
Leading to eternal punishment and shame?
The dumbest choice I’ve ever made:
To not my sinful ways tame.
Holiness I seek, yet evil into my soul seeps
And even through temptation and pain
I come to you, Lord, with a contrite heart
But am I repentant enough?
If I were, I’d not sin again
Even when thy way is rough
If I truly was sorry Thy way would be beauty to me
But I am weak and weary and now only hardship do I see
Ahh if only our ancestors
Hadn't eaten from that tree!
Because of the fall, I'm by evil surrounded
By jackals and demons my soul is hounded
Arise oh Lord and let Thine enemies be scatter!
Yet if Thou arise, shall scatter I be?
Your judgment is just, so why should I flee?
Am I justly judged to Gehennah or to Thee?
Right now I know not, but love of You I’ve caught
And any cure for that disease is an antidote to me
Yet why can I not see
How to end my sinful ways
How to turn unto thee?
And if I am the salt,
What seasons dull salt?
I have little light, little seasoning or strength
I’m a wolf who needs sheep’s insides
Because I’ve already got the clothing
Oh Lord, lead me away from the fiery pit
The fiery staircase I seek
Let Me recognize it!
Up such a staircase of purifying fire
I will escape from the hell flames
Flames that end much hotter and higher.

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THE PAPER

Blank spaces, blank lines
It stares back at me
What am I to write?

Will it be an essay,
Analytical, or creative?
Or maybe it will be

A play, one that's funny
or sad, or even a musical.
Perhaps I should think

About writing a short
story, one that's easy to
read yet complex.

I should write the great
American novel; one that
would get me fame and fortune.

So many possibilities, and now
the paper waits
to be filled eith ink tattoos.

What can I write?
I don't know, but
I know one thing:



I hate writer's block.

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