Poetry Battle Royale

[Snow]

So I was think to myself; myself thinks I, what this dump needs is a good ole fashioned keel-hauling.

But, then my dual personality reminded me that this wasn't a ship and I am no longer a Navy SeAL. So then I thinks again and says, Self, what this place needs is a poetry contest. Bloody brillant is what it is. See, one evening, like say next Sunday at like see 3:OOpm pacific time or something, I or somebody like me but without all the tattoos and body piercing opens a thread and posts a topic/concept/theme. And then everybody who wants to participate has until 9:00pm to post their just composed poem and then the following day I open up a thread and we vote on the poems and select a winner.

And just so this thread doesn't get banished to the general discussion dungeon, we could make the topic religious related - like about - well I can't tell you what it would be like because then you could be working on your poems in advance and then that would be cheating and heaven knows ya'll cheat enough as it is.

What say ya'll and should there be any rules like lenght or something?

[Snow]

Something like this:

There once was a Serapha from Jaffa..

(that's a joke Serapha, lighten up - you're invited too)

[AFDaw]

keep it short

[Guest Starsky]

Well those were too short...LOL

How about this:

The moon is bright

all is right.

The sun will shine

and its all mine.

The stars all twinkle

the bells all tinkle.

write now and be heard

or you will be a nerd...LOL

[Cal]

Twas the night before posting,

And all through the forum,

Was not read a good saying

That did anything but bore 'um.

Then down through the morn' internet

Did come much more chatter,

But inspite of it all,

Snow's head got still fatter.

Forgive me, Snow, I just couldn't resist--still friends, right? :)

[DisRuptive1]

Can we have any non-religious ones like:

WOULD YOU LIKE TO BOMB IRAN?

My writing is in blue

My writing is in red

I'm Saddam.

Saddam I am.

I do not like you,

Uncle Sam.

Would you like

to bomb Iran?

We'll sell you weapons,

despite the ban.

I would not like to bomb Iran!

Praise be to Allah, and Koran!

Those weapons are

against convention...

Nevermind Geneva,

pay no attention!

We hate Iran,

it's our contention.

We have no qualm,

no apprehension!

I'll give this task

to Ibrahim.

He'll make a plan!

He'll plot a scheme!

Business as usual

with your regime.

My inner circle

is full of turds.

Is it any surprise

that we'd gas the Kurds?

We knew you gassed them

in '88.

We weren't concerned

'til you raided Kuwait.

You caused my invasion

to be abated,

I'm now on

your list of

most hated.

Alright, you win

I'll withdraw.

I'll also kill

my son-in-law.

With so little blood

spilled on

your soil,

your plot was much

too easy to foil.

Could this war

have been for

oil?

What is this sound?

What is this treason?

Don't mind me,

I'm the voice

of reason.

Now you've started

another war,

in time for

the election of

2004.

We won this war

without a hitch!

You hippies have

no right to b*tch!

But won't this war

make Bechtel rich?

Who would you

hire to repair

Iraq?

Germany? Russia?

Or Jacques Chirac?

This debate is

tedious and may

go on forever.

To document it

in rhyme

is a tremendous

endeavor.

Perhaps it's best

to let it die.

Justification is

in the

beholder's eye.

What will

the media report

without a war?

Real news is such

a dreadful chore.

Shark attacks,

SARS, invasion

from Mars.

Terrorism,

sports cars, and

Hollywood stars.

Until we declare

war on

North Korea,

we'll have to

settle for this

journalistic

diarrhea.

This discourse

could go on, but

what's the use?

It's just a tribute

to Dr. Seuss

www.maddox.xmission.com

[Guest Starsky]

That was great! LOL

[Snow]

Keep thinking about this for this coming weekend.

[Guest Starsky]

You mean about conference?

How about...

Conference, Conference...

where for art thou Conference?

Oh hark, in yonder big conference center...

that is my bi-anial mentor

Organ as pipes lined up the wall

Noise, so grand, and not too small

Wise men spewing truths so well

warns that we may go to well...

Not so fast, our heads are spinning

warned again about that sinning

.................doh...

sorry it was getting worser and worser....LOL

[broadway]

I know that you said to wait until a particular time to start writing, but I had written this not too long ago. Being that it is religous, not many people from the poetry forum I frequent liked it. So I am going to post it here.

House of Israel

Moments of realization seeping

Through every vine.

The lord of the vineyard is weeping

An old skin is filled anew with wine

Soon, the seams break.

The spirit left unmoved, for His sake,

Will be plucked off line.

Servant and master labor in fields

Trimming the tree.

Grafting and pruning to keep the yields,

The good fruit is gathered separately.

The lord is heard,

“I may lose all trees of my vineyard

And it greiveth me.”

This task’s cruel to both servant and lord,

But both toil on.

The servant works to increase the hoard,

His work calling, like water to fawn.

But time runs near

The gathered fruit will be counted, here,

By the Righteous One.

The vineyard must then be cleansed by fire,

As well it should.

The Lord weeps over his lost desire,

Though He knows He did all that He could.

The foretold end

Will allow the broken Earth to mend;

God will save the good.

What do you guys think of it?

broadway

[Snow]

Wow,

You guys are good.

Next Sunday night, I'll post a subject and anyone you wants can post a poem written on that topic. Monday Morning I give each poem a number and well vote.

Stephen, are you going to play?

[Guest Starsky]

House of Israel

Moments of realization seeping

Through every vine.

The lord of the vineyard is weeping

An old skin is filled anew with wine

Soon, the seams break.

The spirit left unmoved, for His sake,

Will be plucked off line.

Servant and master labor in fields

Trimming the tree.

Grafting and pruning to keep the yields,

The good fruit is gathered separately.

The lord is heard,

“I may lose all trees of my vineyard

And it greiveth me.”

This task’s cruel to both servant and lord,

But both toil on.

The servant works to increase the hoard,

His work calling, like water to fawn.

But time runs near

The gathered fruit will be counted, here,

By the Righteous One.

The vineyard must then be cleansed by fire,

As well it should.

The Lord weeps over his lost desire,

Though He knows He did all that He could.

The foretold end

Will allow the broken Earth to mend;

God will save the good.

What do you guys think of it?

broadway

AWESOME!

Thanks for sharing such a beautiful piece of work! I wish you would post this at another site I go to...it really needs help with spiritual insight.