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Poetry Contest 2007
Hello and welcome to the fourth annual Mead Hallcontest of the Org. In this thread I will post all submissions I have received. Just for the record, if you want to participate, submit your poem to me through PM. For questions, comments and information regarding the rules, duration and off course the prize of the contest, check the organisational topic.
Enjoy!
1# Untitled
The leaves are brown
The trees make no sound.
This is the silence
Silence before the storm!
The days are long
and the wives are singing no songs
for the blood of our fathers,
lies over the hills.
The war has come from over the seas,
The defenders brought to their knees.
Long have we waited,
but never has the King stated,
that we will fight amoung our fathers.
Death, they cry,
We don't want to die!
The sword is red,
and all is said,
by the rows of the dead!
Death and beyond my path now takes,
I will swim in no more lakes,
Through death and beyond!
I have gone!
2# Savannah
And as he went about his final task,
The grimace on his face he did not mask,
He opened his soul to recant his all,
And amid dusty dunes his feet did trace;
A land of beauty and bold birdsong call,
As words of wonder did escape his face.
Where the tribes did dwell,
The wind blew a grassy swell;
The boy was beckoned,
As the sun hauled him forth,
Through his eternal passage unseen,
To initiate a rite well known.
He pressed forward unheard,
His solemn tread not once revealed,
As all around the scrub did part,
To reveal his golden quarry,
The master of his fearful worry,
Union of hand and wood at once broken,
Now, anew forged in courage.
And as he finished what he started,
The boy was a man,
And he sighed and duly parted.
3# The Truth & the Web
Want to hear it? Come on it only hurts those who don’t know it.
You can’t escape it because it’s always there, so go ahead run from it if you dare.
I relish it, it gives me clarity even though if you look about you, you become consumed with the disparity.
Most can’t handle it they obscure it through their words, I often wonder "do you really believe that, how absurd".
Its not that you can’t hear it, it’s just that you fear it.
I know how you think, I will open my eyes again just give me a second to blink.
"Quickly" I hear you mutter "think of another lie so I don’t end up in the gutter"
You’re already there my web friend, because to deny the truth is just going to hasten your end.
Funny huh? Like that little phrase? Fantastic, save your praise.
So take your time hold your breath, this isn’t life or death.
It’s just a computer screen with words, oh I am sorry did I hit a nerve?
Let me guess not what you wanted to hear, oh well time to live in fear.
Time to play that endless game, of wondering what is ok to say and what will lead to shame.
Ah such is the web no? You come here live a little then you go.
And so the end nears, tell me did you shed any tears?
I suspect the answer is no, but clearly you have lost your glow.
To wrap it up lets just say, that speaking the truth isn’t your way.
I find you to be distasteful, even though you claim to be faithful.
Either way you can post what you will, because the truth on the web is often a rare, but bitter pill.
4# Dropped
There’s something in my soul tonight…
This poetry isn’t moving right…not now.
This wind is blowing harder,
But I can’t make this feeling make me right.
I’m another drop in the ocean…
Waiting for the motion to sink me in.
So far, so long…Gone…
So far, so long…Gone…
Wreckage itself is enough for you but,
Taking you with me won’t be easy,
The morning dawns and the more they hear
Makes them more easily afraid…
There’s a definite reason that I have you tonight,
Wrecking yourself, taking you with me…
There’s a terrible reason buried down,
Wrecking yourself, taking you with me…
5# Untitled
Far to the north, the land of snow,
there lived a man, you ought to know.
His name meant Fist, his pride was great,
the appetite for knowledge, he could not sate.
Spirits, he chained, within his dark tower,
magicks, he wove, for ever greater power.
A comrade there was, though he knew it not,
The power once held, was all he sought.
Although his power, once unbroken,
had willingly reduced to but a token,
his enemies fled, his years run long,
he had no reason for his old song.
Yet songs old notes still ran high,
and his old habits would not die,
indeed his role was not yet played,
within this story that I have made.
The chains of men must reside,
within the knowledge that we hide.
If but a little that we know,
then but a little that we will go...
6# Psalm for the Prodigal Son
Disillusioned in assembly hall, as they sang out the hymns
Light-hearted melodies and headmaster's hypocrite grins,
Knew not real meanings, nor understood the cross
I simply chanted out the textbook sins
And older, bored by lifeless prayers dumbed down
And comprehending poorly still, I heard no sound
Of any substance from those 'holy' mouths
And so I threw my bible to the ground
Reeling from delusion, locked in vocal toil
To eradicate a 'foolish myth' from England's bloody soil,
I raised my voice in anger, supported by the crowds,
Called the good men lunatics, and smiled as they recoil'd
But when, years behind me falling, I found some astral Love,
And the warmth of heaven only retrieved me from the cold,
I wondered at the day that the Lord created me,
And knew how good it was to be re-welcomed to the fold.
7# The Cowardly Knight
There once was a large German Knight
Who didn’t much like to fight
Instead he drank beer
‘Till it came out his ears
And he slept all next day and the night.
Alas, one day this would change
For his Lord approached on the range
“War comes!” he cried,
“You had better not hide
“Strike out! and slay those who’re strange.”
Now ‘twas the eve of the great contest
And our Knight would not have a rest
He stayed up and drank
‘Round twelve quarts, to be frank
And he binged ‘till the colors were ‘breast.
But when the fight came, WaHey!
His fear had been melted away
Drowned by all that drink
He didn’t much think
But he slew many a foe on that day.
That night a great fête did come through
With all the guests tasting much brew
And toasting the Knight
That had won them the fight
Saying: “For the man and the ale – Here’s to you!”
Now of course the next day they fared
‘Bout as well as a dragon that cared
But from that day on
When war was anon
You know how they prepared.
8# Public Office
We achieve it at last,
but when we find it we long for the past.
To be another case,
another life,
another face.
To forget it all,
To be entrall'd,
by the warm embrace,
of sweet ignorance
of an unknown face.
But you are before a crowd of men,
and to act our another person then.
To be austere and refined
and not harsh and unkind.
A false god to be obeyed
not to be delayed.
Given powers you wished to have
for the cost of face.
Are you so blackened and corrupt?
So weak and grimed?
That you would give power?
For your face?
9# The Girl You Love
Down on the mountain,
The band kicks up a song.
The banjo strums into the night.
And tired men sing,
“Come on boys, go on home now,
Go back to the girl you love.”
Up on the mountain,
The wolves begin to howl.
The trees rustle and moan.
And tired men sing,
“Come on boys, go on home now,
Go back to the girl you love.”
10# U2
I never thought that four guys from an Irish town
Could turn all the world’s frowns around.
Bono Vox, the Edge, Adam and Larry
Brighten my life and make me merry.
There’s something spiritual in what they sing.
That really is the sweetest thing.
There’s more in the words than just what they say
That stays with me when it’s not a beautiful day.
I saw them at the Super Bowl, too
When Bono wore the Red, White and Blue.
After all these years they’re still the one love
That I can never get enough of.
If you still haven’t found what you’re looking for
You might save the world with songs of lore.
Feed the poor
Fight AIDS and more.
There’s so much to do.
Who will join us? You, too?
11# The last survivor
The sun reflects on the ruins of the city,
long gone, long abandoned, long forgotten.
The sun reflects on the ruins of the city,
on the memories, testimonies of better times.
In the middle of all this devastation, stand I,
Long gone, long abandoned, long forgotten.
While I'm lost in memories of better times,
I cast my shadow on the ruins of the city.
And into unconsciousness of the world I fade,
oblivion my prize for their glory.
12# Untitled
I like to watch and see those drops of dew glistening,
playing in those endless fields of dark blue.
If I could stare into those crystal depths for whole my life,
not doing anything else, but gaze.
Every second.
Every minute.
Nothing else.
If only I could
remain in this dwelling dream deep blue.
Fill me.
Eyes, embrace me.
Why does a person have to blink?
Cause that fraction of second it feels like it is
the day
the sun
stopped
shining.
Hollow eyes can't fill me,
Hollow voracious eyes.
13# The Peasant's Tale
Here begins the Peasant's Tale,
a gruesome story of chain and mail.
A tale of courage, a tale of might,
a tale of what falls off tonight.
Here comes the lord, of this fief,
a lord in name but really a thief.
He plunders and steals, lies and deals,
but gives no thought to who works his fields.
We harvest his grain, and work his farm,
while he sits in his castle, away from harm.
We wash his clothes and cook his meals,
yet he gives no thought to how we feel.
Fed up are we, he cares not for our plight,
we shall plan our revenge on him tonight.
We shall kill him, he shall die,
No one will miss him, no one will cry.
A battle rages, ten days hence,
our lord worries not for he knows how to fence.
Provided of course, his armor was strong,
but it shan't be, for we have planned this long.
Our lord and a soldier, locked in combat,
one sharp blow and the other won't come back.
They fight and rage, swords clashing with steel,
both fight with almost religious zeal.
But our lord shall fall, make no mistake,
for we cut up his armor and glued it with paste.
The solider strikes hard, and our lord stumbles,
the least of his problems for his armor crumbles.
He lifts his sword, for one more blow,
our lords arm is lopped off, a sight to behold.
It falls to the ground with a dreadful thud,
covered in mud, covered in blood.
He dies slow, our revenge is sweet,
a fitting end a tyrant should meet.
No fingers were pointed, we shan't worry,
for here ends the tale of the peasants story.
#14 Ode to EB
Lo! See as the EB team puts right
That of which CA had made a slight.
'Quisque est barbarus alio',
Such is their great motto.
How true it happens to be,
Even considering the Romani.
Gaul wasn't united by a tribe, ever.
Not in Europa Barbarorum either.
Know that fear you will betray,
When you face the dreaded Gaesatae.
The Casse must fight for their very lives:
They are threatened by large Eleutheroi hives.
The Swêboz have it relatively easy:
They face weak armies of Eleutheroi.
EB may be slightly misleading:
They limit themselves not to "Barbarians",
In the Eastern lands can now be found fighting
The Saka, Baktria and even Arabians.
No more watching the Return of the Mummy,
Egypt's army is now that of the Ptolemaioi.
The West has not been forgotten. With disdain,
Kart-Hadastim and Lusotannan face off in Spain.
The East has never been in such turmoil,
With The Grey Death of Seleukeia fighting
Against former Satrapies of Pontos and Hayasdan.
The Pahlav with who they are also contending
For control over the ancient Roads of the Asian.
They defend not for once the precious oil.
Originally founded in 2004,
They mod the series of Total War.
First for Rome and then for Medieval II,
They dedicate themselves to a period of time,
And they do this modification not for a dime,
But for historical accuracy and for us too!
They continue their great endeavor,
And leave us drooling monthly
With their previews of features, units and more,
And their new music by Casey and Wylie.
Now they work on 0.9
It is but a matter of months, they say
They don't expect any pay,
And it will be sweet as wine!