DWT Poetry Competition: Seventh Round
Welcome to the seventh round of the DWT Poetry Competition.
If you are one of the participants and noticed something wrong with the formatting/editing of your poem, just contact us and we’ll fix it promptly.
Some people are still submitting poems also. Unfortunately we won’t be able to accept them because the deadline has passed. You’ll need to wait for the next competition if you want to participate.
1. Love Beats My Heart by Mhag Cordova
As sure as the sun quietly sets
There goes my once-troubled heart set:
Set to be freed, Set to love freely
As free as the bird that flies around colorful horizon
As sure as the blood flows in extreme passion
Here is my heart flowing in distant imagination
Never had my heart beats the sweetest melody of music
Until you came with notes of love in your majestic presence
Now my heart knows love in the purity of silence
How wonderful life is in your gaze
Your eyes that mirror my soul
Brings passion in my dried-up soul
How lucky my heart is
That your love knows me
Me, that beats freely
Oh love fuels my heart;
Oh love beats my heart!
2. They Will Be Done by Abhyudaya Mandal
Let the dark clouds roll; Let me be cold,
Let the sky spit out rain.
Let the water flow from my eyes, and break the hold
of sin from my soul. Let me be released from my pain.
Let the water of God no longer remain a stream,
Let my desire to see God rekindle; Let it not be a distant dream.
Take me all the way; from motion to motion,
Let the love of God become in me a shoreless ocean.
Let me delight and rejoice in God’s goodness,
Let me grow in God; Let God invoke in me his blessedness.
Darkness provides no joy; to all of us it has lied.
Make me perfect; even if Sorrow and Suffering are my guide.
3. Ediphile by Joanna Lilley
I don’t look at paintings
but at the walls on which they hang
I walk to the top of staircases
not for the exercise
but to see an iris of handrails
around a pupil of floor
Any large building
is a Guggenheim to me
A mezzanine of mountains
Surrounds my small town
but I’m climbing the walls
looking for the steel
that’s holding up the clouds
The height restriction
won’t get lifted soon enough for me
I’m going back to the city
to count columns and elevator seconds
find a place to rent in the golden section
look for scratches in the sky
4. Lucky by Heather Aubke
Just outside my field of view.
Silence is heavy,
Breath is held –
waiting for danger to pass.
Eyes are sharp,
Talons held ready –
Hoping for one false move.
Human stands helpless,
Watching in awe –
Wondering how it will end.
Songbirds live on,
Birdhawk goes hungry,
Birder observes stalemate – this time.
5. Far Cry by Arlene Pinpin
I’m tired of fighting,
my heart racing with time,
my mind wallowing in space,
pretending i am aging with grace.
I have been bitten with the venom of your silence
and it hurts me immensely,
but nothing compared to the pain
inflicted by being away from your reign.
I am tired of denying;
My mouth opposing the cry of my soul;
My head turning away from my dreams;
Pallid landscape, insipid wine, barren streams.
How can love cause so much sadness?
Am I the only one immuned from it’s sweet promises?
Shall I forever walk this one painful regret?
When can I stop loving you in secret?
6. The Pen Pedler by Mei Chuen
Pens? Do you want to buy pens?
A voice interrupts,
Breaks up a family meal
To solicit a purchase.
A voice without a choice,
Masking a plead.
Who thinks to buy stationery
While they eat?
Which fool ignores a rich feast
To garner cheap ink?
And so I dismiss him
Without a second glance
And dare not look at the eyes and face,
Beyond the outstretched hands of a needy one.
I hear his voice again
Somewhere in the background.
A voice that never pipes down
Even when it’s pushed away by disgusted frowns.
Pens? Do you want some?
That unmistakable high register in his voice;
That trained expert in rejection,
Perturbs me enough to turn around.
What tales crouch beneath his expressionless face
What unforgiveable reason;
Was it parental treason
That made a peddler out of someone his age?
A boy 10 years old or some;
A tender little one,
Hurtled into adulthood
7. Untitled by Brandon Cooper
A print upon the sodden dirt,
Natures posture forlorn no more,
I’ve come with wonder to see what I may,
Absconded life’s lethargic bore.
Walk O’ walk and never stop,
Keep your head upon a disc,
Let the wind control where you may look,
Only fear that beauty you may miss.
It’s not the same, it never was,
Walk with zeal 10,000 times,
A myriad of shadows cover different days,
Every one through a different eye.
I’ve never seen the winters jeer;
The rain follows with auspicious beat,
I’ve never traversed through the fulgent moon,
Ground trembled beneath aged feet,
It wont be the same, it never will,
Not if walked 10,000,000 times,
A myriad of whispers expose false lies,
Every one told countless times,
So Walk O’ walk and never stop,
Keep your head upon a disc,
For the wind will control where you may look,
Only fear that beauty you may miss.
8. The Clown by Dustin Rich
What a wonderful day, the circus in town,
I was having a blast until I met this damn clown.
Following me around with that painted one smile,
I must have walked over a mile.
Big floppy shoes and that curly ass hair,
I really don’t know how much more I can bare.
If he honks that damn horn one more time,
I swear to you his ass is mine.
What’s so funny clown? Why are you laughing at me?
What’s so funny clown? What could it be?
My fists clench with angry tension,
In case he should jeer once more in my direction.
And then it came, the final straw,
I cracked him good right in the jaw.
A couple of swings and then I kicked him twice,
Now that clown is not so nice.
He lunged at me, I dodged real fast,
Then I connected with the final blast.
His rubber nose flew with my right hands power,
And the water sprayed from his little pink flower.
The clown staggered back and fell with a flop,
I kicked his damn ass right in that Big Top.
As I stand above him victory is mine,
I look down on him one final time.
In his eyes, his fear I see,
Who’s laughing now clown? I think it’s ME!
9. The White Rose by Paula Chapman
Pieces of the past
lay at my feet
Like shattered glass
I try to arrange them all nice and neat
I get cut.
I quickly call on the only one for me,
The one who calmed the sea,
Only he can arrange the pieces for me
Into a thing of beauty, you see?
Slowly the pieces fade away,
The darkness turns to day,
Up arises a thing of great beauty,
A rose that Jesus hands to me.
As I look at the Rose,
I see there are no thorns,
I hold it to my nose,
And I smell,
Aroma unmistakably one no one has ever worn,
A beauty beyond compare,
A delicate rose, white and fair.
Out of the pain of the past
If you let God take over,
Something of Beauty will arise that will last,
Forever, just as it did for me!
10. Moonshiner by Vickey Lynn Jones
The snow was falling as I walked down the mountain
Trying to get Home to you
As the trail twisted round
The spring looked like a fountain
I knew I could get back to you
I’ve been days in the hills
Making white likker
When I heard those dogs begin to howl
And my heart beat faster
To avoid that disaster
For at home my wife was with child
It ain’t easy making likker
But the money comes in quicker
I never was no use in a mine
I tried logging for a day
But it just doesn’t pay
Like a still in the dead of the night
I make my likker at night
Keep my smoke out of sight
I’m as careful as a man can be
And I damned sure will keep firing that still
as long as there’s breathe in me ..
My tribute to Popcorn Sutton ….
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13 Responses to “DWT Poetry Competition: Seventh Round”
Brandon Coopers poem, Untitled, amazing. His stuff needs to be published.
This poem touched my heart, and the poem shows she does write from the heart.
Paula keep up the great work, and I hope you win.
This poem is great, and it did touch my heart when I read the poem.
Paula has the ability to write from the heart, and should do more writing.
tiny blue cat
I really enjoyed The Clown and the Pen Peddler. I’m surprised Untitled was so well liked. Maybe too cerebral for me.
I really felt Far Cry.
Expressing what you feel in an honest way is such a great feeling and elating.. very human way to feel such pain and yet it helps us to be more stronger and continue sailing our boat…When it will end nor stop? then it’s only us could… “THE CRY” by Arlene Pinpin is such a good poem to relate and realize and go for a change because change is the only great instigator for pain. Keep it up and God bless you more the wisdom to reveal and share your own given craft.
Get that Clown!! haha
Loved Brandon Cooper’s work. Very talented!!!!
I love Moonshiner.
I think that Ediphile is outstanding.
The Clown! What a scream, I wanted to hit him a couple of times myself, only in verse though, since I’m a non-violent entity. Lucky was also good, but Moonshiner was very honest.
I’ve been entertained!
Ediphile is gorgeous.
I think in this round, Ediphile is the most creative. I love cities and their buildings and the stories they hold. Quite an interesting perspective, Joanna!
I also like The Pen Pedler. It’s a survival story, one much too familiar in our world today. Mei Chuen, you captured not only the sad reality of the desperate child, but the sad reality of our attitudes and reactions to such peddlers. A much needed “wake up call.”
Thank you to you both ~