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Dream Challenge[Hi, this is my first attempt at making up a challenge so...] Last edited by FadingFebruary 04-16-2010 at 07:59:56 PM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeQuote: Originally Posted by FadingFebruary And...does anyone know why the "Daily Poetry Challenge" section seems spammed with "OMG READ MY POEM" 's? It sure seems that way from what I've seen... I agree, I hate the stupid read my poem, I like the idea's of challenges to actually get the brain thinking and narrow the broad catagories down to something that you can write a new poem about. and dreams... that is a hard one... Can't remember too many... does it have to be recent? I have vivid memories of dreams in my childhood that might make a good poem :P Last edited by jpmaster13 04-17-2010 at 04:05:25 PM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeI dreamed last night |
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RE: Dream ChallengeFade to White |
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NIGHTMARES SCAPED MOONS AGONIGHTMARES SCAPED MOONS AGO |
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RE: Dream Challenge A NIGHT IN ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE WEIRD ONES. |
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RE: Dream ChallengeHi FadingFebruary. I went through my poems and found three dream poems. This one is one of my favorites...Hope you enjoy. |
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RE: Dream ChallengeThis was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. Last edited by kah 04-27-2010 at 04:57:26 PM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeA poem of a dream I had one night, perhaps one of the loneliest nights as I was trapped in my own thought of my future. I remembered this dream like it was a reality, and I wrote this poem as soon as I woke up. Hope you enjoy it. it is called "such dreams are meant for the blind to incline." |
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RE: RE: Dream ChallengeQuote: Originally Posted by kah This was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. The Encounter I slip the black leather gloves onto my sweaty hands I hope that every little thing will go according to plan I take the mask and slide it over my wet hair As lightning crackles, rain pours and thunder blares I reach in my coat pocket and fumble for the keys Then unlock the rusty door and from the storm I flee I slam it shut behind me and flip the light switch They flicker on , their luminescence marred by dustiness I see the large steel chair that’s bolted to the ground And the victim sitting in it, not making a sound He must be asleep, I check to make sure he’s bound I take out the gun, and put in a full round I cock it, go back to the door and lock it Then walk slowly up to the victim and stop I think carefully about how I want this to play out I wanna look him in the eyes and hear him shout And beg for mercy, but he won’t get any I want him to realize what he’s done to me From the day I was born, and for all of my life I was starting to wish that I had brought a knife All at once I was so full of anger I had forgotten fear I pulled the sack off his head, but was stunned so much I couldn’t hear Just a ringing in my ears and a blurring of my sight But when I came to, I knew that this could not be right This humanoid figure had no face at all He was as cold as the warehouse wall I screamed at him “Look at my eyes! Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are…” I took the pistol and slam I hit the thing in the face, but it still didn’t talk “Say something to me! Do you know what you’ve done! Did you think for 15 years that you’d won? Could you ever predict the day that I’d find you? You have no eyes, but I know you’re not blind, you! All the pain, all the anger, the sadness, the acts… That was you! These are the f**king facts! Fine! Don’t say a word! But I’ll end you right here! I don’t even care if you don’t show fear! No one will find you, they won’t even look! You’ll be forgotten, you f**king mentality crook!” And that’s when it spoke these words carefully: “You can never, ever, EVER kill me If you kill me, all you will do is kill yourself You don’t have to forgive, but this isn’t good for your health. Don’t give up, I’m not out to get you, it was just bad luck And I’m sorry if you wanted me to give a f**k.” I stared at it for a long time and pressed the gun against its cold featureless face As I thought about the decision, I could feel my heart race And then I felt a feeling of which I was all too used But this time it won, and I simply blew a fuse And I screamed “F**K YOU YOU S**THEAD MOTHERF**KERRR!!!” Louder than an angry caffeinated trucker I shot a bullet straight into his head But before I got any satisfaction, I too was dead And that’s when I woke up in a cold sweat I was relieved to be alive and in my own bed Living with bipolar is harder done than said But I try not to let s**t like that get to my head. By Nathan Hillard aka chewyribbit Some minor editing by Kimberly Hillard aka kah for language kah... I am in ms manner's shock... I've never seen you talk like this ... that's my silly for the day... My Serious side says... What an Intense Poem... I read that it is a poem, written by your son... and GP edited (nice), by you... but wow... the whole poem captivated me and I could not wait to find the ending.... Bipolar is intense... chemical imbalance with the extremes...and then the dream... I could near feel the emotions... Really strong child you have there.... to write so clearly, of this. |
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Dream ChallengeQuote: Originally Posted by Springsize Originally Posted by kah This was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. The Encounter I slip the black leather gloves onto my sweaty hands I hope that every little thing will go according to plan I take the mask and slide it over my wet hair As lightning crackles, rain pours and thunder blares I reach in my coat pocket and fumble for the keys Then unlock the rusty door and from the storm I flee I slam it shut behind me and flip the light switch They flicker on , their luminescence marred by dustiness I see the large steel chair that’s bolted to the ground And the victim sitting in it, not making a sound He must be asleep, I check to make sure he’s bound I take out the gun, and put in a full round I cock it, go back to the door and lock it Then walk slowly up to the victim and stop I think carefully about how I want this to play out I wanna look him in the eyes and hear him shout And beg for mercy, but he won’t get any I want him to realize what he’s done to me From the day I was born, and for all of my life I was starting to wish that I had brought a knife All at once I was so full of anger I had forgotten fear I pulled the sack off his head, but was stunned so much I couldn’t hear Just a ringing in my ears and a blurring of my sight But when I came to, I knew that this could not be right This humanoid figure had no face at all He was as cold as the warehouse wall I screamed at him “Look at my eyes! Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are…” I took the pistol and slam I hit the thing in the face, but it still didn’t talk “Say something to me! Do you know what you’ve done! Did you think for 15 years that you’d won? Could you ever predict the day that I’d find you? You have no eyes, but I know you’re not blind, you! All the pain, all the anger, the sadness, the acts… That was you! These are the f**king facts! Fine! Don’t say a word! But I’ll end you right here! I don’t even care if you don’t show fear! No one will find you, they won’t even look! You’ll be forgotten, you f**king mentality crook!” And that’s when it spoke these words carefully: “You can never, ever, EVER kill me If you kill me, all you will do is kill yourself You don’t have to forgive, but this isn’t good for your health. Don’t give up, I’m not out to get you, it was just bad luck And I’m sorry if you wanted me to give a f**k.” I stared at it for a long time and pressed the gun against its cold featureless face As I thought about the decision, I could feel my heart race And then I felt a feeling of which I was all too used But this time it won, and I simply blew a fuse And I screamed “F**K YOU YOU S**THEAD MOTHERF**KERRR!!!” Louder than an angry caffeinated trucker I shot a bullet straight into his head But before I got any satisfaction, I too was dead And that’s when I woke up in a cold sweat I was relieved to be alive and in my own bed Living with bipolar is harder done than said But I try not to let s**t like that get to my head. By Nathan Hillard aka chewyribbit Some minor editing by Kimberly Hillard aka kah for language kah... I am in ms manner's shock... I've never seen you talk like this ... that's my silly for the day... My Serious side says... What an Intense Poem... I read that it is a poem, written by your son... and GP edited (nice), by you... but wow... the whole poem captivated me and I could not wait to find the ending.... Bipolar is intense... chemical imbalance with the extremes...and then the dream... I could near feel the emotions... Really strong child you have there.... to write so clearly, of this. Thank you, Springsize - he is an amazing young man! I can't wait to show him your comments! Thanks for reading |
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RE: RE: Dream ChallengeQuote: Though this is only a poem, it shows the behavior of people who do things like this and how they really think. It gives off a sick scary feeling of helplessness ,no hope. No caring about life or others. This is the kind of poetry they use in scary books and movies.No affence to the writer of this piece this belongs in a scary book. Some people read these books everyday.
Originally Posted by kah This was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. The Encounter I slip the black leather gloves onto my sweaty hands I hope that every little thing will go according to plan I take the mask and slide it over my wet hair As lightning crackles, rain pours and thunder blares I reach in my coat pocket and fumble for the keys Then unlock the rusty door and from the storm I flee I slam it shut behind me and flip the light switch They flicker on , their luminescence marred by dustiness I see the large steel chair that’s bolted to the ground And the victim sitting in it, not making a sound He must be asleep, I check to make sure he’s bound I take out the gun, and put in a full round I cock it, go back to the door and lock it Then walk slowly up to the victim and stop I think carefully about how I want this to play out I wanna look him in the eyes and hear him shout And beg for mercy, but he won’t get any I want him to realize what he’s done to me From the day I was born, and for all of my life I was starting to wish that I had brought a knife All at once I was so full of anger I had forgotten fear I pulled the sack off his head, but was stunned so much I couldn’t hear Just a ringing in my ears and a blurring of my sight But when I came to, I knew that this could not be right This humanoid figure had no face at all He was as cold as the warehouse wall I screamed at him “Look at my eyes! Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are…” I took the pistol and slam I hit the thing in the face, but it still didn’t talk “Say something to me! Do you know what you’ve done! Did you think for 15 years that you’d won? Could you ever predict the day that I’d find you? You have no eyes, but I know you’re not blind, you! All the pain, all the anger, the sadness, the acts… That was you! These are the f**king facts! Fine! Don’t say a word! But I’ll end you right here! I don’t even care if you don’t show fear! No one will find you, they won’t even look! You’ll be forgotten, you f**king mentality crook!” And that’s when it spoke these words carefully: “You can never, ever, EVER kill me If you kill me, all you will do is kill yourself You don’t have to forgive, but this isn’t good for your health. Don’t give up, I’m not out to get you, it was just bad luck And I’m sorry if you wanted me to give a f**k.” I stared at it for a long time and pressed the gun against its cold featureless face As I thought about the decision, I could feel my heart race And then I felt a feeling of which I was all too used But this time it won, and I simply blew a fuse And I screamed “F**K YOU YOU S**THEAD MOTHERF**KERRR!!!” Louder than an angry caffeinated trucker I shot a bullet straight into his head But before I got any satisfaction, I too was dead And that’s when I woke up in a cold sweat I was relieved to be alive and in my own bed Living with bipolar is harder done than said But I try not to let s**t like that get to my head. By Nathan Hillard aka chewyribbit Some minor editing by Kimberly Hillard aka kah for language Last edited by Bettysrainbow48 04-29-2010 at 11:19:08 PM |
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RE: RE: RE: Dream ChallengeQuote: Originally Posted by Bettysrainbow48 Originally Posted by kah Though this is only a poem, it shows the behavior of people who do things like this and how they really think. It gives off a sick scary feeling of helplessness ,no hope. No caring about life or others. This is the kind of poetry they use in scary books and movies.No affence to the writer of this piece this belongs in a scary book. Some people read these books everyday.This was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. The Encounter I slip the black leather gloves onto my sweaty hands I hope that every little thing will go according to plan I take the mask and slide it over my wet hair As lightning crackles, rain pours and thunder blares I reach in my coat pocket and fumble for the keys Then unlock the rusty door and from the storm I flee I slam it shut behind me and flip the light switch They flicker on , their luminescence marred by dustiness I see the large steel chair that’s bolted to the ground And the victim sitting in it, not making a sound He must be asleep, I check to make sure he’s bound I take out the gun, and put in a full round I cock it, go back to the door and lock it Then walk slowly up to the victim and stop I think carefully about how I want this to play out I wanna look him in the eyes and hear him shout And beg for mercy, but he won’t get any I want him to realize what he’s done to me From the day I was born, and for all of my life I was starting to wish that I had brought a knife All at once I was so full of anger I had forgotten fear I pulled the sack off his head, but was stunned so much I couldn’t hear Just a ringing in my ears and a blurring of my sight But when I came to, I knew that this could not be right This humanoid figure had no face at all He was as cold as the warehouse wall I screamed at him “Look at my eyes! Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are…” I took the pistol and slam I hit the thing in the face, but it still didn’t talk “Say something to me! Do you know what you’ve done! Did you think for 15 years that you’d won? Could you ever predict the day that I’d find you? You have no eyes, but I know you’re not blind, you! All the pain, all the anger, the sadness, the acts… That was you! These are the f**king facts! Fine! Don’t say a word! But I’ll end you right here! I don’t even care if you don’t show fear! No one will find you, they won’t even look! You’ll be forgotten, you f**king mentality crook!” And that’s when it spoke these words carefully: “You can never, ever, EVER kill me If you kill me, all you will do is kill yourself You don’t have to forgive, but this isn’t good for your health. Don’t give up, I’m not out to get you, it was just bad luck And I’m sorry if you wanted me to give a f**k.” I stared at it for a long time and pressed the gun against its cold featureless face As I thought about the decision, I could feel my heart race And then I felt a feeling of which I was all too used But this time it won, and I simply blew a fuse And I screamed “F**K YOU YOU S**THEAD MOTHERF**KERRR!!!” Louder than an angry caffeinated trucker I shot a bullet straight into his head But before I got any satisfaction, I too was dead And that’s when I woke up in a cold sweat I was relieved to be alive and in my own bed Living with bipolar is harder done than said But I try not to let s**t like that get to my head. By Nathan Hillard aka chewyribbit Some minor editing by Kimberly Hillard aka kah for language Thanks, Bettysrainbow, for taking the time to read this! There is a lot of helplessness, fear and hopelessness portrayed in this poem - kah Last edited by kah 04-30-2010 at 06:24:48 AM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeQuote:
Originally Posted by kah Originally Posted by Springsize Okay people try their hand at new things,just to see if they can. Who really wrote this poem, you Kah or your son. It really doesn't matter.Everyone has a right to be heard whether any poem is liked or disliked.Yes the langage is out there. There are a few naughty poems out there too. We need to look at the quality and rating. I feel that if the people on this site don't like any poem because of it's contence then the people that control the site should ask poets not to write poems of this type. In the mean time opinions of others have the right to speak how they feel without hurting the poet.This is not meant to hurt anyone.There are poems I don't like too and I wonder why people write them but we are not all the same nor do we write the same. We must try to forget about what we do not like and consentrate on the good.Originally Posted by kah This was written by my son. I have posted it with his permission. You can check out his other stuff here on OP under the poet name chewyribbit. The Encounter I slip the black leather gloves onto my sweaty hands I hope that every little thing will go according to plan I take the mask and slide it over my wet hair As lightning crackles, rain pours and thunder blares I reach in my coat pocket and fumble for the keys Then unlock the rusty door and from the storm I flee I slam it shut behind me and flip the light switch They flicker on , their luminescence marred by dustiness I see the large steel chair that’s bolted to the ground And the victim sitting in it, not making a sound He must be asleep, I check to make sure he’s bound I take out the gun, and put in a full round I cock it, go back to the door and lock it Then walk slowly up to the victim and stop I think carefully about how I want this to play out I wanna look him in the eyes and hear him shout And beg for mercy, but he won’t get any I want him to realize what he’s done to me From the day I was born, and for all of my life I was starting to wish that I had brought a knife All at once I was so full of anger I had forgotten fear I pulled the sack off his head, but was stunned so much I couldn’t hear Just a ringing in my ears and a blurring of my sight But when I came to, I knew that this could not be right This humanoid figure had no face at all He was as cold as the warehouse wall I screamed at him “Look at my eyes! Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are…” I took the pistol and slam I hit the thing in the face, but it still didn’t talk “Say something to me! Do you know what you’ve done! Did you think for 15 years that you’d won? Could you ever predict the day that I’d find you? You have no eyes, but I know you’re not blind, you! All the pain, all the anger, the sadness, the acts… That was you! These are the f**king facts! Fine! Don’t say a word! But I’ll end you right here! I don’t even care if you don’t show fear! No one will find you, they won’t even look! You’ll be forgotten, you f**king mentality crook!” And that’s when it spoke these words carefully: “You can never, ever, EVER kill me If you kill me, all you will do is kill yourself You don’t have to forgive, but this isn’t good for your health. Don’t give up, I’m not out to get you, it was just bad luck And I’m sorry if you wanted me to give a f**k.” I stared at it for a long time and pressed the gun against its cold featureless face As I thought about the decision, I could feel my heart race And then I felt a feeling of which I was all too used But this time it won, and I simply blew a fuse And I screamed “F**K YOU YOU S**THEAD MOTHERF**KERRR!!!” Louder than an angry caffeinated trucker I shot a bullet straight into his head But before I got any satisfaction, I too was dead And that’s when I woke up in a cold sweat I was relieved to be alive and in my own bed Living with bipolar is harder done than said But I try not to let s**t like that get to my head. By Nathan Hillard aka chewyribbit Some minor editing by Kimberly Hillard aka kah for language kah... I am in ms manner's shock... I've never seen you talk like this ... that's my silly for the day... My Serious side says... What an Intense Poem... I read that it is a poem, written by your son... and GP edited (nice), by you... but wow... the whole poem captivated me and I could not wait to find the ending.... Bipolar is intense... chemical imbalance with the extremes...and then the dream... I could near feel the emotions... Really strong child you have there.... to write so clearly, of this. Thank you, Springsize - he is an amazing young man! I can't wait to show him your comments! Thanks for reading Last edited by Bettysrainbow48 05-02-2010 at 11:27:37 PM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeHeavens, Angels Last edited by Bettysrainbow48 05-02-2010 at 11:34:44 PM |
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RE: Dream ChallengeWell, my dream poem is a little different. I don't even know if it qualifies as a poem, lol! (Thank goodness for 'free verse!') But I did try to keep it light-hearted while maintaining the odd turns the dream took. And yes, it was a real dream. |
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RE: Dream ChallengeSimoneaugustus - that is a funny dream!! Our subconsious works in strange ways, hu? |
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RE: Dream ChallengeToo true, kah! And honestly, this isn't even the weirdest one! I think that title goes to a 2-second long dream of a black and white photo of a dead peacock lying in the dirt, accompanied by feelings of guilt, doubt, and anger... I wonder about my subconscious sometimes... |
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.