SLAM FINALS: Poets

Discussion in 'Writer's Block' started by UFO the Phoenix, Jun 11, 2005.

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  1. UFO the Phoenix

    UFO the Phoenix I DONT BELIEVE IN ALIENS!

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    THEME: DREAMS

    Ok this is where it all counts....this is for the big one....(big prize is to have your POEM be sticky all over RM on the top of random boards....and points donated by Madnick....and other prizes....1st, 2nd, and 3rd)

    The theme is poems based on or inspired by DREAMS!

    this contest also serves a double purpose because right now Natural Bridge is accepting submissions for issue #15 on this theme

    www.umsl.edu/~natural

    ^peep for more detail


    Address:

    The Editors, Natural Bride
    Department of English
    University of Missouri - St Louis
    8001 Natural Bridge Road
    St. Louis, MO 63121​




    THE POETS THAT ADVANCE TO THE FINALS ARE:


    1) TRUEMCEE
    2) Absolute Zero
    3) Rikoshay
    4) REALMS
    5) NisLaniF
    6) Johnnie French
    7) POETICKZ




    Verses are DUE June 20​




    good luck to everyone.....bring your heart and soul to this one....I recommend keeping it under 40 lines but do you....no rules.....just follow the THEME of the SLAM and










    dream
    test
  2. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    test
  3. Poetickz

    Poetickz The Humble One

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    checkin in
    one
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  4. RealMS

    RealMS Ne te quaesiveris extra

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    ^you and that 'one'

    say uno! lol

    I'm here UFO!
    test
  5. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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  6. TrueEmcee

    TrueEmcee Run.

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    check check
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  7. absolute zero

    absolute zero Among the living

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    test
  8. RIKOSHAY

    RIKOSHAY New Member

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    I accidentally clicked on Poetry Realm and I'm lucky I did.
    Check.
    PEA
    test
  9. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    damn @ everyone holdin' out.
    test
  10. RealMS

    RealMS Ne te quaesiveris extra

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    ^Including yourself :tongue:





    Almost is Incomplete

    She’s free-falling uncontrollably into a quest where
    Neither may end.
    She has met reality, walking with new torn
    Realistic shoes
    Ever since the mediocre number became
    Another year of life;
    In her eyes the myth has been broken
    Years after she could finally open up her eyes…

    (XIII)



    I’ve been trying to write about this for some time,
    But to begin writing the completed phase was just halfway pursued.
    I knew what dreams were from experience-the least;
    I needed to know
    To feel
    To see-taste
    What was perhaps opposite…what is real.
    Even if that meant I didn’t want to.
    Often is it misconstrued, the two
    I believe a deeper thinking will pull one through
    And understand an already developed concept.
    I only hope to you my poetry makes some logical sense

    This is a poem my poem-what seems like herstory.

    And regardless of such age a simple dream may still affect one’s brain wave, excessively
    A cold sweat, or awakened afraid
    Afraid of the motive behind a feeling that does not cry tears of joy.
    I’ve felt all and many more.

    But the greatest dream I have had
    Is the one where dreams and reality formed a clash.
    Someplace along meaning I’m not relaxed being on both sides,
    I’ve wanted to write about this for sometime,
    This is the one dream
    I have yet to actually feel.
    So therefore my story is merely a rough draft.
    test
  11. absolute zero

    absolute zero Among the living

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    Bless the Burning Oracle, Fireside​


    Two nights I've spent praying
    To a tunnel for light.
    And as the moon grew,
    I faded as does sand into waters deep,
    When crescent Summers bend as promises Keep.
    Who could look into bluer eyes,
    And beg for 2 minutes to weep?

    Have you noticed
    The way
    Teardrops Dance
    Down her cheek
    When she sighs?

    Two nights I've spent prying.
    Caressing the crevices for shelter,
    And leaving my near future, submissive,
    Whispering, "Nothing has changed at all."
    I once believed in dreams;
    But reality is an awkward stone
    That never burns.


    Sister society lays in her grave
    And turns, turns, turns....
    test
  12. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    [funny]I ain't gon' front, y'all cats got an old man shook.
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  13. Poetickz

    Poetickz The Humble One

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    Sittin on a Greyhound Goin Northbound

    Title: The Modern Day Underground Railroad

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    recalling the memories of being held down
    sucked dry...someone benefits from my labor
    sure as hell aint me...better do myself a favor

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    breakin free from my chains that for so long have detained me
    escaping the boundaries of parental slavery
    finally free from the abuse i received since a baby

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    no longer will i be your neck to feed on
    a pawn for your petty source of income
    mile after mile i come closer to freedom

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    im no longer afraid to defy my constraints
    and slap the long arm of my prison gaurd
    that keeps me locked within myself

    i move on...im no longer afraid
    no longer alone...starting from scratch
    with only the clothes on my back
    im ready to be free...only 5 days left...

    Im coming freedom​

    one
    test
  14. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    "Thirty One Thousand Two Hundred Fifty Steps"

    Thirty One Thousand Two Hundred Fifty Steps

    I saw an old man walking. He’d count his steps
    Fifty for each finger on the hand on his left
    That’s how he exercised, and learned not to think.
    When he confronts people he wished he’d learn not to stink.
    See, he’s homeless, forty two, looks sixty
    Walkin’ enough steps to his home when he’s six feet
    Above. He calls this exercise his progression.
    Sometimes, he calls it his own funeral procession.
    “No one walks with me, I’m every day by myself
    Yeah, I do it to exercise or run away from myself.”
    He sleeps at night, and all the thoughts he didn’t have
    Rage against his soul all alone in his nightmares
    Hates spending nights there, the park ain’t pretty
    It’s hard when the system has you lost in the city
    Homeless by forty and forgotten by fifty
    He knew through and through that was the life he was living.

    When his left hand is full, two hundred fifty steps,
    Each time, that equals one finger on his right.
    He whistles in the daylight, days bright, play right
    Paid like a playwright who has no pen.
    Last time he changed clothes, he wasn’t a day over
    41 years old, now he stands at 42.
    Old man with old shoes that no one else knew,
    He inherited the nightmares of the man who gave em to him.
    He lost the label to them, but he has mad soul
    That old man knows that all he has is walking
    Always fast when talkin’ to the one who isn’t there.
    But he really doesn’t care, he speaks to his ex-wife
    See, she left him ‘cause he drank too much, gave strife.
    Took away her life, so she took it right back
    He lost the kids and the house, like “you ain’t really want that”
    In a loop, when he tries to walk away, he’s right back

    Each time his right hand fills, he counts one toe.
    Closer to that last step, with one toe up.
    He was toe up, but his hunger and the sun stroke
    Gives him euphoria, plus he’s not thinking.
    He sleeps mumbling old stories to his dead kids
    Well, he hasn’t seen ‘em in years, they dead to him.
    He tried to be a father, recreating their dreams
    But his father never bothered and his step dad was mean.
    He doesn’t know a different way to raise a king
    Beat ‘em the same way he got beat as a teen.
    Just like him, he seemed to confuse the youngest.
    “Loved” him every night when he thought nobody saw.

    So to him, his life is over. His kids are getting older.
    The distant past of children are beaten out from the shoulder
    His youngest is seventeen, rediscovering himself.
    In West Hollywood, the old man counts his steps.
    Tormented by the thoughts of his day dreams
    Late screams, fake scenes of history
    Make fiends of derision
    Drugs made it easier to deal with past afflictions
    Until the drugs actually became the addiction
    Adding to the vice, now he thinks of his youngest
    Wishing he could die or…learn how to love?

    Each toe on the right foot equals one on the left.
    Each one left is sixty two fifty.
    So he sits alone and got to the last toe,
    Thirty thousand steps, only a few steps to go.
    Blisters on his feet and the feat of his loafers
    Notes of his own misfortune force tears
    No remorse for him aside from drugs he holds dear
    Whores of old cigarettes, acid trips and beer
    Sleeping pills, chills in the night with no fear
    A calm resides upon his face when the night nears
    No more disdain for hearings and court orders
    No more mourning for his kids, it’s all over
    But the old man is tired of living with no hope.
    He lays down for one last nightmare, never awoke…




    He dreams of when he needn’t worry what the toes meant.




    Death is the Dream of Thinking Freely without Torment…

    © BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum 2005
    test
  15. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    oh that's today... thought it was the 23rd... ok later I'll do it.
    test
  16. RIKOSHAY

    RIKOSHAY New Member

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    I was dreaming when I wrote this.
    If it goes astray so goes it.
    You’re welcome to go with the flow if you so wish,
    just know this…
    it’s at your own risk.

    My dream is caught in a stream of thought cascading to notion.
    Pen gripped, hand shaking, impotent.
    Fantasia approaches, unheard.
    Weakly,
    I shape my sinking fears.
    Translating emotion to words,
    seeking…
    escape, succinct, sincere.
    Hand shaking, my focus is blurred,
    streaky.
    The paper drinks the tears
    my eyelashes toss in slow motion.
    I watch the tip of my pen playing “Keep Alive”
    as it crosses the ocean.
    My thoughts become too deep to dive.
    Now I’m lost in the moment
    Succumbing to the whimsy of the sleep deprived.
    My exhaustion is potent.

    I've barely written a word, the ink isn't dry.
    I think, if I try, it will all sink in.
    Contrived memories assembling on the brink of reprise.
    Too late, insidious inkling denied.
    Delinquent inside of the blink of an eye.
    Indistinct in demise.
    Like a firefly lost in the twinkling sky.

    Undaunted, I grin, for I have the staunchest of chins.
    Plus I know that, yet still, I am haunted with sin,
    and it won't be long till a twinge of grief intervenes and the gauntlet begins.
    With night advancing, my flight of fancy launches within.
    I'm merely a pawn of "The Wind" that I'm "Gone With".
    Convinced that the dawn is a myth,
    I take a leap of faith off of a cliff as a song of chagrin plays in the background.
    So much for facing the facts proud.
    Brace for impact now.
    Consciousness fades into black cloud.
    test
  17. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    Dreams....

    ....
    test
  18. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    f*ck french and ricoshay for those dope drops. Y'all tight, but I hope I f*ck both y'all up with this one.
    test
  19. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    hahahahahaha I did that on the fly under the radar of the time... but I did previously think of where to take it somewhat. Thanks
    test
  20. TrueEmcee

    TrueEmcee Run.

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    yo ill post today if allowedSORRY FOR NO SHOW if i cant
    test
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