1- Round Contest- Picture

In this contest I will be the only judge, and the poems will be based on this picture.

It's only ONE ROUND contest.. no more.. just one.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bebflightmed/2655097033/

Main prompt: Make me believe that I am inside the picture. I will be looking for creativity , imagery, and may be metaphors or similes. No more than 30 lines, it could be 30 but no more.

And depending on the poems, the judging might turn into what I like the most. I will state as much as I can in a comment.

with that being said, have fun. Due January 30.

PM me your poems, don't post them in here.

One poem is IN.

3 poems are in...

4 are in....

This are the poems that I received... Results will be given no later than February 2nd.

POEMS:

#1

----Rinzler----

A demon boy standing with eastern splendor,
A sky above no longer transcendent blue,
But a blue of a beauty unknown.
A wasted sight even by the devil's standards.
The eye so brilliant as the eastern season of a year.
Darkness and a strange rising, even then,
The birds are only searching for a meal for thy bellies,
Living, or otherwise.
The city so distant and foreboding,
Not even the strongest of travelers dare cross its boundaries.
The soft delicate bunny,
Ponder the demon boy as if of some odd ancient arrangement.
The bunny studious and wise, sniffing at the heel of grass.
With eyes that are his but not his,
Finding the moon itself to be one strange thing,
As if Atlas failed at his post and caused the earth to move towards the moon.
But the boy only smiled,
As the world wept as it died in mid-heaven.

------------------------------------

#2 Paint me the sky

Like swallows fleeing winter,

grief swept through the heavens -
weaving between clouds,
disappearing momentarily,
only to materialise with newer wings
until finally, it settles inside
where the sun no longer shines
and outwardly, it spreads:
from ribs to the very tip of bony
fingers

and my world contracts
to that tiny sliver of time as
pain turns into a beast
devouring my innards,
claws unsheathed -
where my eyes once were,
reduced to hollows

so paint me the sky
- with your voice -
sing me a song
of a space utterly vast . . . but, please
don't make it empty this time

i want him to see Cannes
our Cannes
even from a distance
so he'd know,

he'd know that even i
had once been capable
of love.

---------------------------------------

#3

What is wrong with this picture? ,
Okay it is abstract high definition, ,
I'm not even close to that,
pay attention to the image, please
I love to look at paintings,
there are a boy, well and so?,
yes I can see the extra planet!,
the lazy bird and the rabbit as well?
It is winter here, I'm freezing now,
the colors are weak, no boost for me there,
why are the skies in yellow and green?,
skies doesn't look like plastic!
This is not art, art ask questions,
no a real picture shows something,
a real images intrigues and puzzle's us!
Ups..............

Give me a break, now I think I got it?,
the boy is an urban cowboy,
it is the reborn Ferdinand bull,
coming to revenge himself on us,
If you are that grumpy!
you can't come to an art exhibition anymore,
Oh crap I am talking to myself,
This is online............

-------------------------

#4 Catharsis

I breathe heavily, remembering how you were
told to sleep on this day, high above the earth,
with your chest caught on ashen illusions of
skyscrapers now vacant.

Love swoons in the absence of reality;
yellow jackets and crows will not
chase the pulse we are beginning to touch-
for this is a new world where hearts
tiptoe back through gravity.
Can't you see that even the sky
is descending unto the fire
our hearts underestimated?

I write for you, that you may be found again,
on the other side of a silvered moon or
in the thousand ways the sun is fighting
to rise this eve.

Glancing behind a pair of clarion eyes,
I never realized life has a voice where every
human need is not so distant and the earth can
silently crawl into our open wounds; I see healing.

The fertile tree at my side is the dawn
of our silence. Though some would say we
are cursed, our words are what stilled actions-
it is only through this that our thoughts can be
hushed and our hearts move forward to nest home.

Oh luce! I missed this contest!
I just saw it today!
Sad:(
Anyways, great poems!

RESULTS:

#1

----Rinzler----

A demon boy standing with eastern splendor,
A sky above no longer transcendent blue,
But a blue of a beauty unknown.
A wasted sight even by the devil's standards.
The eye so brilliant as the eastern season of a year.
Darkness and a strange rising, even then,
The birds are only searching for a meal for thy bellies,
Living, or otherwise.
The city so distant and foreboding,
Not even the strongest of travelers dare cross its boundaries.
The soft delicate bunny,
Ponder the demon boy as if of some odd ancient arrangement.
The bunny studious and wise, sniffing at the heel of grass.
With eyes that are his but not his,
Finding the moon itself to be one strange thing,
As if Atlas failed at his post and caused the earth to move towards the moon.
But the boy only smiled,
As the world wept as it died in mid-heaven.

Comment:

Creativity: 2/2
Imagery: 2/2
Figure of speech: 1/1
Lines: 2/2
Makes me believe that I am inside the picture: 2/2
Grammar: 0/1

Total Points : 9/10

The starting line "a demon boy standing with eastern splendor" draws the reader's attention right away. Specially the word "eastern," it captivates me, I am unsure as to how I should interpret it, but I like it. Though, "eastern" gives me a sense of direction as to where this picture comes from.

The second line " a sky above no longer transcendent blue," followed by "but a blue of a beauty unknown" gives a good description of how the sky in the picture looks like. The word transcendent sounded poetical as well as I feel that it goes well with the vocables used in this piece. It fits!

The fourth line "A wasted sight even by the devil's standards" confuses me a bit as I don't know why the narrator thinks is a wasted sight, since in the beginning it was mentioned that it was a beauty unknown. . . but is effective at making me wonder and thus wanting me to read farther to find out my answer.

The fifth line "The eye so brilliant as the eastern season of a year" is another line that successfully confuses me. The word "eastern" once again, but shouldn't it be "Easter?"
In this line, though, eastern is used as a simile... comparing the eye and the Eye if I am not mistaken it's the view. The view that demon is seeing is brilliant as the easter season of a year... when Jesus died and then resurrected.

The Six line "Darkness and a strange rising, even then," adds mystery to the poem, as well as the next one "The birds are only searching for a meal for thy bellies," though I think "thy" should be "their." The words "even then" and "only" makes me think that even though something unknown is happening in the picture, it seems that there is nothing to worry about as the birds are not worrying about anything else other than their food. And isn't that what birds always do? or what their focus is? Then the following line "Living, or otherwise" makes me doubt what I just said... thus the mystery that I find in those words. The "otherwise" as if the birds have no other option but to continue living by searching for food despite whatever is happening in the picture... they are not giving up on life, no matter what.

The ninth line "the city so distant and foreboding," followed by "not even the strongest of travelers dare cross its boundaries" finally clears my doubts. Something bad is happening. See not even the"strongest of travels" dare cross it. Something horrible is happening no doubt.

Then on the eleventh line "The soft delicate bunny," it might have been just me but I felt the bunny was just thrown in that line to introduce it but ... to me felt like a forceful introduction as I was pondering on the horrible things that might be happening in the city.. so I felt like it was a tough wake up... from what I was thinking. I mean I was picturing this bad things happening and suddenly, I think about the soft bunny... kind of sweet but I'm still uncertain if I like it or not... However, that just means that I am really drawn to the picture and the poem.

The twelfth line "ponder the demon boy as if of some odd ancient arrangement" when I thought about the switched on of lines from the city to the bunny... and then on this one.. it gave me the image as if the boy was staring at the city when suddenly his view changed to the bunny. So the way I am feeling about this write is that I am the narrator and I am the one observing everything in the picture... but in reality what I am observing is the boy's reaction to what he is observing. He is awestruck at such a beautiful destruction. ... but a wasted sight perhaps, because the world would die but it would resurrect? and the boy will not see this view again. . . per se?

The ending " But the boy only smiled, as the world wept as it died in mid-heaven" was fitting and I truly enjoyed this piece. As far as the title... I don't think the title fits this piece. I think Rinzler is like a ninja.. So my only guess is that Rinzler is the name of the demon boy. I mean it might be fitting but I feel like it needs something more to grabbed the reader... Through the eye of Rinzler? ... I have no idea. But this was a really creative narrative as well as a nice way of making me feel part of the picture.

------------------------------------

#2 Paint me the sky
By: Xanthe

Like swallows fleeing winter,

grief swept through the heavens -
weaving between clouds,
disappearing momentarily,
only to materialise with newer wings
until finally, it settles inside
where the sun no longer shines
and outwardly, it spreads:
from ribs to the very tip of bony
fingers

and my world contracts
to that tiny sliver of time as
pain turns into a beast
devouring my innards,
claws unsheathed -
where my eyes once were,
reduced to hollows

so paint me the sky
- with your voice -
sing me a song
of a space utterly vast . . . but, please
don't make it empty this time

i want him to see Cannes
our Cannes
even from a distance
so he'd know,

he'd know that even i
had once been capable
of love.

01242013

Comment:

Creativity: 2/2
Imagery: 2/2
Figure of speech: 1/1
Lines: 2/2
Makes me believe that I am inside the picture: 1/2
Grammar: 1/1

Total Points : 9/10

The simile "like swallows fleeing winter, left me wondering and thinking.. my first thoughts were that "swallows" were used as a noun, which it is, but I thought that it might have been used as the act of swallowing rather than the migratory birds... to compare grief. As one continues reading then it becomes obvious that it's about birds for the author used the verb "fleeing" and nouns like "wings" "heavens" "clouds."

So my thoughts about this piece is that Grief migrated to the heavens after the departure of someone very dear. Eventually, grief went away only to return once more but more painful. The author asked this someone to paint a sky with "his/her" voice, to make it beautiful and seem not "empty" that way this other person can see that the narrator once was able to love.

From here, my thoughts are that this other new someone doesn't believe him/her that his/her heart is capable of loving, so he/she asks for the skies to be painted for the narrator to show this someone whom he/she loved.

A sad poem, yet there is love. I feel that with this piece the author is saying: see, I too can love.

This poem is beautiful, I felt part of it, it drew me in completely, it created a new picture for me... but it almost made me forget about the original picture. This poem stands own it's on. However, what I really felt when reading this poem was that the speaker was talking to me... to pain the sky to the boy who is standing in the picture.

---------------------------------------
#3 Title:
By Ole

What is wrong with this picture? ,
Okay it is abstract high definition,
I'm not even close to that,
pay attention to the image, please
I love to look at paintings,
there are a boy, well and so?,
yes I can see the extra planet!,
the lazy bird and the rabbit as well?
It is winter here, I'm freezing now,
the colors are weak, no boost for me there,
why are the skies in yellow and green?,
skies doesn't look like plastic!
This is not art, art ask questions,
no a real picture shows something,
a real images intrigues and puzzle's us!
Ups..............

Give me a break, now I think I got it?,
the boy is an urban cowboy,
it is the reborn Ferdinand bull,
coming to revenge himself on us,
If you are that grumpy!
you can't come to an art exhibition anymore,
Oh crap I am talking to myself,
This is online............

Comment:

Creativity: 2/2
Imagery: 2/2
Figure of speech: 1/1
Lines: 2/2
Makes me believe that I am inside the picture: 0/2
Grammar: 0/1

Total Points : 7/10

This is a peculiar write, it is interesting. I like the attempt the author took at describing the picture while talking to someone else. Though, it seems the conversation was all in his/her thoughts. It has some humor to it. What I like the most is the voice of the author, I can read it clearly. There are a few mistakes/typo's.. like " there are a boy" I think it should be "there is a boy." and there are some parts where I believe would benefit with a comma. For instance, "no a real picture shows something" as " no, a real picture shows something."

This poem has a simile " skies doesn't look like plastic!" and metaphor "it is the reborn Ferdinand bull,"

I found it creative though, the poem didn't took me inside of the picture rather it took me outside of the picture, it did had a good imagery as I was picturing the conversation taking place, but at first I thought it was with someone else... then I found out it was to him/herself. lol

-------------------------

#4 Catharsis
By: MaryAnne

I breathe heavily, remembering how you were
told to sleep on this day, high above the earth,
with your chest caught on ashen illusions of
skyscrapers now vacant.

Love swoons in the absence of reality;
yellow jackets and crows will not
chase the pulse we are beginning to touch-
for this is a new world where hearts
tiptoe back through gravity.
Can't you see that even the sky
is descending unto the fire
our hearts underestimated?

I write for you, that you may be found again,
on the other side of a silvered moon or
in the thousand ways the sun is fighting
to rise this eve.

Glancing behind a pair of clarion eyes,
I never realized life has a voice where every
human need is not so distant and the earth can
silently crawl into our open wounds; I see healing.

The fertile tree at my side is the dawn
of our silence. Though some would say we
are cursed, our words are what stilled actions-
it is only through this that our thoughts can be
hushed and our hearts move forward to nest home.

Creativity: 2/2
Imagery: 2/2
Figure of speech: 1/1
Lines: 1/1
Makes me believe that I am inside the picture: 2/2
Grammar: 1/1

Total Points : 10/10

This poem has a magical touch to it. I don't have much critiques other than to say what I think and how I feel about it. When I was reading the poem for the first time, I felt this piece was a love poem, but then on the second read... I paid attention to the picture and suddenly, I started feeling as if I was that boy the one standing next to the tree in the picture... the one who was looking at skyscrapers.. as if I was the one speaking to the city and saying my goodbyes, that I may go back home because that city is now empty so there is no need for me to stay there, but I feel as if I am saying bye but not forever, that the city will be inhabited again and that I will come back but for now home is the best place to go.

Now, if I focus on the love poem, I feel exactly the same way, as if someone is saying good bye to their love, but is inevitable for me to feel like the author knows that one day, they'll be together as if taking some time off will remedy whatever happened between them.

The author used mainly metaphors and was successful at making me feel as if I was inside the picture.

THE WINNER is: #4 By Mary Anne

Thank you guys for Participating. I like all of the entries.

Wow was not expecting this, thank you so much Luce!!!

Thank you for this picture prompt and for your critique, it was inspirational. Congrats to the other poets too, amazing poems! :-)

Haha I guess I could have spent more time on it xD I wrote it in twelve minutes