Writers Challenge #18

Discussion in 'Poetry Realm' started by Mind~$oul, Jun 2, 2005.

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  1. Mind~$oul

    Mind~$oul I'm Pretty

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    Dedication...

    Write a poem dedicated to another poet. It could be anybody you want the person to be just as long as that person is a poet. Anybody from the realm to Sylvia Plath to Saddam Hussien(yes he writes poetry).
    test
  2. MISSKEYdaQUEEN

    MISSKEYdaQUEEN Watch the black panther..

    Joined:
    Jul 20, 2002
    Messages:
    17,838
    test
  3. allnakey

    allnakey Sex is no fun by yourself

    Joined:
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    Messages:
    2,940
    My day began with a reading
    In-depths to see a poet’s soul
    Near the sunlit computer screen
    Dawned words that inspired me
    So truthful to eyes so colorful
    On this day a realm member born
    Unique in his form, and words derived
    Listening to words; a mind, a soul, vibes


    Just explaining how I came to the realm and one of the first pieces I peeped was a mindsoul/Lpoet collabo. That inspired me to stay up in the realm and drop some pieces, big ups to both of them.
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  4. MISSKEYdaQUEEN

    MISSKEYdaQUEEN Watch the black panther..

    Joined:
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    Calling Dios

    I try to remember a time where
    time wasn’t a factor in the time we shared.
    Radios blasting in ears and I could hear the
    Inspirations in the lift of your pen
    Music
    We’ve known it for a while
    The power it holds
    Some call it control,
    I call it the melody of the soul.
    I remember you read my words and
    Exhaulted me on my first throne
    No more did I feel alone
    We shared this art together
    I wish I could remember the
    last time I read a piece by you…
    Poetry spilled from my arteries
    Like blood
    And I injected you into my bloodstream
    Inspiration
    you gave me my many
    Many
    Many highs
    I could never overdose on you
    We’d sit by stereos exchanging songs and
    Hang up at wee hours of the morning
    I miss that
    I haven’t been high off you for a while
    Time doesn’t permit
    But I remember when time wasn’t
    A factor in the time we shared
    I miss reading your words
    I miss hearing your words
    I miss the high I got off you
    Getting high off you
    And
    Our music.

    Written by Akilah for Dios
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  5. Clarksvegas_Dan

    Clarksvegas_Dan Registered Voter

    Joined:
    Apr 13, 2004
    Messages:
    767
    Kazantzakis

    The ship's gong sounded,
    Driving visitors from their cabins
    It was raining gently
    The air was filled with pathetic words
    Of farewell, promises, prolonged kisses,
    And hurried breathless injunctions

    Mothers rushed to sons
    Wives to husbands
    Friends to friends
    As if they were leaving them forever
    As if this little seperation recalled another
    Greater Seperation

    And suddenly,
    In the humid air,
    The sound of the gong echoed softly
    From stem to stern
    Like a funeral bell
    I shuddered

    The human soul is heavy, clumsy,
    Held in the mud of flesh
    It's perceptions course and brutish
    It can divine nothing clearly,
    Nothing with certainty

    If it could have only guessed,
    How different this seperation would have been.
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  6. Him'

    Him' Dying Underoath

    Joined:
    Mar 17, 2005
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    88
    Walt your great with word and expressions
    Always capturing details and thoughts
    Loving every word that was read when I was a child
    Touching me and inspiring me to become a poet

    While never the less I become captivated by your words
    However the rhyme scheme or the tone of the peom
    It took me to another world where I was lost in emotion
    Tortured by the thought of what made you write such things
    Manipulated by the love that you so often described
    And I look back and wonder will I ever write such words
    Nothing compares to the to what you have enstilled in me
    test
  7. Mind~$oul

    Mind~$oul I'm Pretty

    Joined:
    Apr 10, 2001
    Messages:
    17,331
    She knows that there
    is a reason to live
    she needs no assistance
    fearless and boderline
    godless...
    just a piece of paper
    and a pen...
    and she's lost in the
    beautiful scriptures
    from within...
    there's a hint
    of innocence in her
    raging out cries...
    a shot of liquor helps her
    understand the
    meanings of life...

    there is so many different
    levels to her...
    a butterfly escaping hell

    She's heaven's lost allure...
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  8. RealMS

    RealMS Ne te quaesiveris extra

    Joined:
    Feb 27, 2004
    Messages:
    5,023

    this is for my creative writing teacher who taught me last summer.


    To Larry Miles

    his history is a shield,
    only focused on his students
    50 minutes Monday through Friday for 7 weeks
    I was intrigued by the approach, his love for poetry.
    As simple as that.
    It was my first class during the summer to begin tired mornings,
    but at 8 AM the scent of his coffee woke me up.
    fixing our desks into a circle, always ready
    to share my assignment, and when I wasn't
    new compliments never direct, but looking straight at me
    the criticism was something else, I loved it
    it helped in shaping me

    A's on short stories, "you must finish this one day."
    "wonderful..." scripted on my final poem
    though I flunked almost every quiz given.
    Chaucer was not my favorite lesson,
    for homework I'd lay upside down on my bed in the dorm,
    frustrated.
    I had to depict the verses , and for 2 hours I had a blank page.
    for some reason he already knew it was a challenge
    he planned it, to see who was dedicated, enough.
    it was maybe the one quiz I passed.

    he always had this peaceful look,
    not happy-go-lucky, but honest.
    I remember him saying to teach creative writing may not be his thing,
    the thing was that it was too much of him,
    and he said when around friends he'd talk more about
    his students than ball and women.

    I laughed at the openess, knowing what it meant.
    he was more like a big brother than a teacher,
    or maybe both at the same time.
    one of few writers I know, not hesitating
    to say his thought process.
    I guess that's why I write in the ways I can,
    but never quite knew.

    and I keep his message next to my pen
    it's some piece of motivation
    for every time I wanna second guess
    my own thought process.
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  9. Custodian.

    Custodian. Deep Inside

    Joined:
    Jun 21, 2005
    Messages:
    27
    I showed you the way old friend
    But you inspired me to write in the first place
    I would be in this poetic situation
    If you didnt show me to put everything together
    This dedication may not rhyme
    And it may not invoke passion into whoever
    Determines the winner but I could never truly
    Express my thanks and gratitude toward you​
    test
  10. Poet x

    Poet x a ploy at being human...

    Joined:
    May 6, 2005
    Messages:
    140
    Langston Hughes

    Dedicated soul mate twice removed,
    The way that your Negro affirmation,
    Poetic, could strike a groove,

    Using race driven irony to set the mood,
    You were def,
    Def before it had its meaning,
    Contributor to the Negro scheming,
    To elevate his mind,
    Seeming to be possessed with the gift,
    Feeding you all the right words,
    To help you describe Harlem streets, and lives curves,

    You are my role model,
    When you wrote “lynching song”
    Its bittersweet simplicity,
    Had me smitten,
    Gone,
    Lost in your words,
    I wanna sit on the thoughts of you,
    Meditate in your vision,
    For I long to be like you,
    Mr. Langston Hughes
    test
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