Post by Master of Tacos on Feb 10, 2018 12:31:53 GMT -5
Welcome to the February Poet Laureate Contest, with the theme of terza rima. Below are all the poems I received, ordered randomly by RANDOM.org. Anyone may vote in this contest, and the poem with the most votes earns its author the title of Poet Laureate! Remember, still do NOT share the authorship of any entry with anyone but me until the contest is over (11:59 A.M. PST, Saturday, February 17th).
Please give the poets their due courtesy and read over all the poems before voting.
Good luck to everyone, and may the best poet win!
Entry 1
Far beyond the time which memory provides
A nation appeared here and founded this realm
But memory of its name long since subsides
Empire's troops came and sought to overwhelm
Titanica, as Grub known, saved these fair isles
So the region chose to give to him its helm
Years passed, more time passed and we passed many trials
And Grub chose a worthy bull as successor
Woonsocket now may reign these isles spanning miles
Other choices surely would have been lesser
We wish him a happy reign, hail him - Hooray!
He'll vanquish foes and smite any aggressor
Entry 2
An Apology of the Privileged
Seated in the highest chair of Privilege,
I muse on the perspectives of those below,
not an egotist, acknowledging Life a stage
"With what authority do you claim, good sir,
That you stand over those of less privilege!"
says Society: the stern interrogator.
"I mean no offense to the people referred
'Tis simply an astute observation and knowledge:
This burden I carry, emotions deferred."
Society takes never such words kindly,
And with a glare of pure despise and shock,
Speaks to the arrogance within me roughly,
"Consider not the virtues of your birth,
An excuse to boast your little burden,
To those who suffer the unjust, cruel wrath
The wrath of which you reap the pleasures, unjust,
The wrath of a wronged birth, with no control,
By the likes of your proud burdens, ashes and dust"
I remained calm as accusations flew at me,
I argue not with the Society that nurtured,
All who I was, all who I was going to be.
Though now my most neutral observations,
are colored by society's hierarchies,
I seek not a Great Bourgeois Revolution.
For Society knows her inherent hypocrisy,
That a "fact" is both the seer and the seen,
And ffor that I seek pardon, the great apology.
For there is nothing more inherent yet simple,
Than a man recieving the fruit of his labor,
And I, looking down to see that miniscule,
Speck of dust contribution to this throne,
Atop which I sit and muse on perspectives,
No action can give me that content. None.
Entry 3
Love in Dystopia
Love, life's sweetest emotion, all crave their fill
A sense of contentment from within ones soul
The act of finding it is more luck than skill
A feeling necessary, it keeps us whole
Pumping through our hearts, without a beat percussed
Swelling within, impossible to control
Living now in a world, thats drowned deep in lust
Petty and shallow, as we swipe left and right
Our relationships built on looks and not trust
Technologic connection, blessing turned blight
Search love through affection and not through profile
Find someone to comfort you, all through the night
A person you promise, to walk down the aisle
In marriage we say vows, "Till death do us part"
A choice not made rashly, else a divorce file
Pray you are lucky, get yourself a headstart
For many are lonely, no love to share
The world a cold place with no love in your heart
