Iron Poet VIII

[Zeb The Troll]

Welcome to Iron Poet, Round Eight!

Rules

1) Only the first 16 respondants expressing a desire to compete will be the contestants. It IS a first come, first served basis.

2) The contest will consist of a number of rounds pitting 2 randomly determined authors against each other until only one contestant remains (winner).

3) Each matchup will be given a theme, picture, article, subject, or other criteria to write on, and the poem submitted must match this as much as possible. Stricter following of prompts may help you win.

4) The winner as determined by a panel of judges will advance to the next round.

5) In case of a judge or judges not posting judgments in a timely manner, Vaynor will adjudicate and determine the winner.

6) The poems will be limited to 1000 words with a 50 word minimum

7) The entries will be poems. All forms of poetry are acceptable, as long as they meet the required word lengths. If your chosen style is too short, you are free to make two of them, i.e., you may make a limerick with 48 words, then add another limerick, still following the same theme, to reach the required word length.

8) All posted deadlines will given in as much time zones as possible, as labeled.

9) No late entries will be accepted. If you don't post or fail to post by the deadline, you will be disqualified. A 5 minute grace period is allowed. You have one freebie per contest, use it wisely. This allows you to be up to half a day late with your poem (no more).

10) If your entry does not include the article(s) and the picture(s), you will most likely lose because of it, however this will not disqualify your poem, as poems are judged on best use of the prompts.

11) The judgments are final. What the judges decide is how it is.

12) The entries will only include content suitable for the Playground.

13) Vaynor will rule on anything I have forgotten or needs clarification which is brought to my attention.

14) The contestants will have 1 week (roughly) from the bracket posting to get their entries posted.

Participants:
1. McBish
2. Flame Master Axel
3. Blackjackg
4. thurge namor
5. Fifty-Eyed Fred
6. elvenblade
7. lvl 1 fighter
8. Devigod
9. FirebirdFlying
10. Rutskarn
11. Elvaris
12. coolgaelbert
13. The Demented One
14. Alarra
15. Dallas Dakota
16. Heroic

Judges:
1. truemane
2.
3. AJWB
4. dish

GO!

[truemane]

It seems odd to be talking about this one before the other one's finished. But regardless of how it turns out, I'll judge this round.

[Zeb The Troll]

I only did it because Vaynor asked for someone to do it. It won't be starting before the other one's completed.

[truemane]

Oh yeah, I know. I read the other thread. I was just saying it's strange, that's all. Especially as I'm in the final.

[McBish]

Hey there, I'd like to give this a shot. Sign me up for being one of the contestants.

[The Extinguisher]

I'll sign up to compete, I guess.

[Blackjackg]

What the heck, I'm in. Lay it on me.

[Alarra]

Since we've been lacking in responsive judginess of late, I'll sign up to judge this time.

[AJWB]

I will judge again unless there is a lack of participants.

BAM! All judge slots filled. That's gotta be a record.

[dish]

It probably was...

Have fun guys.

[truemane]

I wouldn't stress at all over judging 'slots.' The more judges the better. And there happens to be a tie, Vaynor can (and will) break it.

So if you want to judge, say so. Or just do so when the time comes. It'll be fine.

[Alarra]

We used to start the contests with 5 judges, if I recall, which wouldn't be a bad thing to have again.

[AJWB]

Dish, if you would rather judge in my place, I'll gladly pull a switcheroo and be a participant. Give truemane and Alarra a shot at vengeance if they weren't too fond of my judgments :smalltongue: Or we can see if another judge pops up and we can start with 5.

[truemane]

Again, guys, I wouldn't stress too much over judging quotas. We've never made it all the way through a contest with the same five judges. Not even the same three, I don't think.

If you want to judge, go ahead and judge. No one's going to stop you because you don't have 'official sanction.' And the poets aren't going to be all 'Hey! We've got four sets of fedback already! No more! No more!'

Don't fret over it. You can both judge. And seventeen other people.

So long as we have poets.

[thurge namor]

ill participate again... it was fun last time

[Fifty-Eyed Fred]

I'm in. I came in just too late for the last one and I need to have vengeance on the Universe :smallwink:.

[PhoeKun]

One more try. I have to write, I promised I would.

*gives a little bow* Please put me down for a contestant's slot after the current contest is over. Thanks!

[dish]

Don't fret over it. You can both judge. And seventeen other people.
Well, I was planning on doing that anyway. But AJWB and I have a history of making completely opposite choices. (Of course, I'm the one who's right. :smalltongue:)


So long as we have poets.
That would be the main issue. Yes.

[Zeb The Troll]

I've updated the first post, finally.

[lvl 1 fighter]

Count me in.

[Devigod]

Sign me up to compete, please.

(I was going to try to judge this round, but it seems you have all the judges you need)

[PhoeKun]

Poets? Are you out there? Poooooooeeeeeeets...

*baits the poet traps with delicious sandwiches* *hides behind a bush, giggling*

[FirebirdFlying]

Sandwiches? Sandwiches, what a delight!
For dull lazy Sundays, or late pre-test nights -
I'll pounce on the promise of those luuverly treats-
Snap! Crack! Now I'm trapped, and I'll have to compete.

Sounds like fun - sign me up. :smallwink:

[Rutskarn]

Pah. I'll give it another go.

That's almost the least poetic way I could have phrased that. Hm. That's just lazy, innit? Let me try that again.

*grunt* M'gunna do it ag'in.

There. That's a decent bit worse.

[Vaynor]

Come on people, we need more poets! I know you're out there!

[Rutskarn]

If you're intimidated, I lost by a shutout in the last Iron Poet. You have a good chance of fixin' my little red wagon, should it come to it.

[The Extinguisher]

Come on poets. I know theres more of you out there.

[Elvaris]

I'm in. After all, not much else has worked as far as inspiration goes...

[Zeb The Troll]

Just 5 more, guys!

[Gaelbert]

I'll join. I have nothing but fond memories of my past entries, and I'm feeling artistic.

[The Extinguisher]

4 more people. Lets go poets! We can do it!

[truemane]

Are we waiting for more? Poets seem a little thin on the ground. Shall we begin and see what happens?

[Blackjackg]

We have 12 competitors now. Maybe we could elimination-style pairs as usual and have a three-way final round?

[Zeb The Troll]

I think that sounds like a good plan, but this is Vaynor's show still, I was just getting a jump on getting sign ups. :smallcool:

[The Demented One]

I'll give it a go.

[McBish]

Come on only 3 more. We can do it. Maybe if we allow judges to enter as well, and have other people judge when they are competing? I'd be willing to judge if we do that.

[Vaynor]

Well one of the judges still needs to drop out (or we need to find another judge). In this case, however, I'd prefer if a judge would change to being a contestant as we are lacking in that category.

[Alarra]

I can write instead of judging if you would like.

[Zeb The Troll]

I moved Alarra to the Writer's group.

My feelings on this are that we have enough to start. It's not a nice even number of pairings, but I have this strong feeling that this will correct itself as the competition progresses, unfortunately.

If/when it gets to an odd number of writers it can be dealt with at that time, as has been done in the past.

[Dallas-Dakota]

If you really need to fill up just one spot/even it out so that it matches, I'l take a writer spot, despite that I'm not a really good poet and will probably be eliminated in the first round.

[Vaynor]

Well then, we just need one more. I think we can hold out for that, eh?

Although, it's been so long I think I'll have to PM everyone participating to let them know it's starting.

[AJWB]

If it'll get this party started, I'll switch from judge to poet.

[Vaynor]

Well we're down to three judges now, we just need 1 more poet!

[Heroic]

If you really need to fill up just one spot/even it out so that it matches, I'l take a writer spot, despite that I'm not a really good poet and will probably be eliminated in the first round.

Seconded, I'll take a writer's spot; although I have no expereience in this competition and I don't think I'll get past Round 1 :smallbiggrin:

[Gaelbert]

Yeah! Let's get this poetry party started!

Verily, my fingers ache with the yet unwritten poems.
They frequent my mind, haunting me.

[Devigod]

Agreed.

(If less is more then that right up there may well be the best damned poem I've ever wrote.)

[The Extinguisher]

Alright. We've got all our poets, lets get the party started.

[wadledo]

Well, since nobody told me about this.....
Is there any need for another judge?

[AJWB]

Wadledo, if you'd rather write I'll go back to judging.

[wadledo]

Honestly, I'd rather judge.
I need to crush some dreams.:smalltongue::smallamused:

[AJWB]

Your call, wadledo. I'm just trying to get this thing started :smalltongue:

[McBish]

Yes this thing starting would be great. I keep having flashes in my mind after forgetting about this worried I have missed the start and already was kicked out. Oh well.

[thurge namor]

so... when we getting this party started?:smallsmile:

[Rutskarn]

Yeah, let's do this thing. This thing let's do.

[Heroic]

Is the competition starting anytime soon?

[Zeb The Troll]

I know this is Vaynor's thing, but in the interest of getting things rolling I'm going to go ahead and set up the first round. Vaynor, please don't take offense, I just know how we lose people with a lag between sign up and starting. Feel free to pick up the reins whenever you're ready!

Brackets randomized here (http://challonge.com/tournament/bracket_generator?ref=CLKCLKJDXC). Prompt for each pairing is listed after the bracket number. Random words generated here (http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx).

Bracket 1 - Parable
*Fifty-Eyed Fred
*The Extinguisher (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6965509&postcount=92)

Bracket 2 - Decomposition
*Elvaris (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6975196&postcount=100)
*Blackjackg (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6980285&postcount=103)

Bracket 3 - Birthmark
*thurge namor (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6964680&postcount=89)
*FirebirdFlying (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6974899&postcount=98)

Bracket 4 - Messenger
*Rutskarn (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6962288&postcount=84)
*Alarra (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6975063&postcount=99)

Bracket 5 - Megalomaniac
*lvl 1 fighter
*Heroic (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6974513&postcount=97)

Bracket 6 - Misconception
*coolgaelbert (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6969278&postcount=95)
*McBish (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6964027&postcount=88)

Bracket 7 - Magician
*The Demented One
*Devigod (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6965678&postcount=93)

Bracket 8 - Relaxation
*DD the Cookiemonster (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6965014&postcount=91)
*Elvenblade (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6964945&postcount=90)

Deadline: 11:59 PM (EDT) on September 21st, 2009

[Rutskarn]

Oh, fun, I'm squaring off against Alarra first round. I guess this is a blessing in disguise--this way, when I lose to a total shutout in the very first bracket, I'll have an excellent excuse.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Oh, fun, I'm squaring off against Alarra Phoekun first round. I guess this is a blessing in disguise--this way, when I lose to a total shutout in the very first bracket, I'll have an excellent excuse.
This, for me.

Good luck to you all!

And most of all, good luck to me.:smalltongue: I'ma need it.

Also, you can't use poems you wrote for other stuff, right?

[Zeb The Troll]

Correct. The idea is to create new material in a constrained time frame, not to republish stuff that may fit the description. :smallcool:

[The Extinguisher]

Parable eh?
Alright, should be interesting.

Of course, now I won't be able to pay attention to my lectures. Haha.
(Also yes, I used to be FMA)

[Dallas-Dakota]

Heh, true.

Though my most recent works are practically the opposite of relaxation.:smalltongue:

[Devigod]

Wooh! So begins the frenzy. I actually like the topic a lot though.

[Rutskarn]

I'm not crazy about mine, but c'est la vie. I think I've got a decent concept that I'm about half-finished executing, though.

[thurge namor]

interesting prompt... i have a vague idea of a line i want to use, now i just have to fashion somehting around it
:smallsmile:

I hate finishing this early... i dont wanna post cause its too early for that, but i hate letting a poem just sit there... ugh! darn you inspiration! why couldnt you have eluded me just a little longer! :smallbiggrin:

[Rutskarn]

Right, I think my poem's almost done the rough draft phase. Now comes the hard part: sitting on it.

[Heroic]

Megalomaniac... never done that before.
There's a first time for everything I guess. :smallbiggrin:

[AJWB]

Cool prompts, dangerous match-ups...

Show us what you got, poets! :smallcool:

[Vaynor]

Thanks for starting it Zeb, I apologize profusely. School just started and I've been sick and I completely forgot to check this.

[Devigod]

Hmm... I think I'm mostly done with my piece. It probably just needs some polish and some changing and then I'll post it soonish. I am, at the moment, very strongly resisting the urge to post now.

[Heroic]

OK, I've already started with mine.:smallbiggrin:
When is the deadline to hand in?

[Devigod]

Deadline: 11:59 PM (EDT) on September 21st, 2009

Try the post with the topics and all the info.

[The Extinguisher]

That deadline is fast approaching. I don't have much done. :smalleek:

This one is tough.

[Dallas-Dakota]

That deadline is fast approaching. I don't have much done. :smalleek:

This one is tough.
This, pretty much. I'l try to have something up this sunday!

[Zeb The Troll]

Thanks for starting it Zeb, I apologize profusely. School just started and I've been sick and I completely forgot to check this.Hey! No problem. Does this mean you're ready to take charge again, then? If not, I can keep things running until you are.

[Vaynor]

Yeah, sure. I'll start the next round.

[PhoeKun]

Dropping out on account of the fact that I can't seem to find a place to live. I need to focus on figuring out a way out of this, not poems.

[Elfin]

Could I join, then?

[Zeb The Troll]

Elvenblade - I, personally don't have any problems with you joining the competition now. Your biggest issue would be the deadline. However, if other contestants don't mind, I would be willing to extend the deadline a bit to give you a bit of a better chance at it. After all, we'd rather have a full round of contestants than being one short.

If none of the contestants have a problem with this, I'll update the 1st bracket post tomorrow morning.

For the record, Alarra has no problem with this.

[Devigod]

Fine by me too.

How much of an extension are we talking here?

[Elvaris]

Sounds fine to me.

[Elfin]

I don't mind working on short notice, but if you want I'll wait until next round to join. I'd rather not do an extension, since I don't want to hold everyone up.

Edit- I think I'll get started, just in case...relaxation, eh?
*takes out pipe, sharpens pencils, and cracks knuckles*

[Alarra]

It's not that it's holding us up. Most people in these contests (myself included) would actually welcome having another day or two to polish their poem....or ....erm.... start one. :smallredface:

As for the extension, Zeb was thinking giving until Wednesday night instead of Monday night, and with as long as these contests get drawn out, adding an extra two days of writing won't really make much difference. And am I crazy in thinking that we normally have 10 days rather than a week anyway? Or is that the Iron Author contest?

Of course, if you don't want the extension, it's probably fine to leave it at Monday night. *pouts a bit* *was looking forward to maybe having an extension* :smalltongue:

[Vaynor]

As for the extension, Zeb was thinking giving until Wednesday night instead of Monday night, and with as long as these contests get drawn out, adding an extra two days of writing won't really make much difference. And am I crazy in thinking that we normally have 10 days rather than a week anyway? Or is that the Iron Author contest?

You're probably thinking about Iron Author, Iron Poet has always been a week.

[Rutskarn]

I'm monumentally unhappy with this iteration of the poem (rather more hamfisted than I'd like), but I'm also out of time (I'm going to college tomorrow). So, I guess imperfect is better than nothing.

The Messenger's Lives
By Rutskarn


I’ve tempered every ache the flesh provides,
A raft upon the mildest of tides
Drifting like a ghost on hollow swells,
Far from waves that crash like chapel bells
From knells that signal little at their strike
That toll for birth,
for union,
and for death alike

So were my envelopes,
as blank as morning mist
Mundane as the addresses on my list
Unopened, in my bag, as cryptic as the sea
And--as I posted them—forever lost to me

And yet…in my old hands a thousand died
Here enemies spoke truths, here many lovers lied
Through these old fingers, smoke from housefires curled
And children saw the blurry outlines of the world
Here was an envelope that cooled a magnate’s fears,
And here a masterpiece in ink and tears
A hundred thousand lives did
break and mend
A baroque symphony that had no end

A gasp of sharp relief,

A gnashing of the teeth,

A dead man’s somber will,

The suppressed urge to kill,

A man’s frustrated SCREAM,

A woman’s soaring dream,

A shrill of nervous laughter,

The silence that comes after,

The simple joy of birth

A simple cry of mirth

A whimpering of pain,

And mutterings insane,

An enemy’s black threat,

The settling of a debt,

A plea for greater haste,

An ad for new toothpaste,

All flowing thick and fast,

Into a microcosm vast

A throbbing vein of human spirit

Pulsing loud to hear it

And to see it, now and then,
To catch these tiny glimpses when
Someone would break the paper fetter
Which bound the spirit of their letter

And its contents I’d surmise;
It’d be reflected in their eyes
And I would borrow another’s heart
And try it on, and then depart
Then I would have fleetingly
Felt another’s energy
A moment’s strange vicarious thrill
Of which I never had my fill
A whole life warmed by other’s coals
A life sustained through others’ souls

Outside my working hours,I'd keep alone
With simple things that I kept for my own
A simple home that was, in summer, chill
A simple life that was forever still
My simple hands, that never beauty wrought
My simple voice, that never wisdom taught
Books full of things I that I would never learn
Rooms full of things that I would gladly burn
And not a memory of mine that I would save
As I sleep towards a not-unwelcome grave
I know--my final dream before my due demise
Will be of what I’ve glimpsed in others’ eyes.

EDIT: Oops, posted too soon. Still a work in progress getting it formatted.
EDIT 2: Right, done, then.

[Heroic]

OK, I think that hopefully my poem will be ready on Monday, but a couple of more days would not hurt. :smallwink:

[The Extinguisher]

I guess what I have done could be considered a poem in some form of the word.

(I will not say to an extension and a full contest round)

[Dallas-Dakota]

Dropping out on account of the fact that I can't seem to find a place to live. I need to focus on figuring out a way out of this, not poems.

No problemo, hope RL stuff works out! Good luck!


Most people in these contests (myself included) would actually welcome having another day or two to polish their poem....or ....erm.... start one. :smallredface:

...Yeah...:smallredface:

[McBish]

So here is mine. Extension or not I think I am done. So here is my poem on Misconception.

I am walking
in the space between who I am
and who I will be.

And as I walk to the
Edge of the World
I am sure that my footing is solid.

But my eyes have been fools
time and time again
tricking me and causing me
to stumble.

That does not scare me
But as I look
left and right
there are people all around me
Falling
into nothingness
where they thought there was solid ground.

And it is only
when I am half awake
that I see the truth.

That all the time
we stand on nothing
but in the belief
there is the truth that we stand on

And in that truth
that we create
is Life.

edit. Changed version. Not entirely sure if I like it more. I might, and I think it reads better.

[thurge namor]

i cant hold out much longer! so, im posting now... deal with it. just for the sake of throwing it out there, the italicized part is her song... i had some girl i showed it to blast me for "changing tones mid poem" and so im putting that out there so everyone knows... sorry if youd rather have that in a spoiler, deal with it... its not my take on the poem, its what the poem is so if maybe, for some reason, you didnt get that, you now understand.

The Cost of Love
Prompt: birthmark

Marked from birth, the girl plucks the strings
Creating sweet chords and melodies
Of butterfly kisses and love and things
But the scars on her arm betray her heart.

Starting in whispers, her voice carries high
Finding beauty in note, verse and rhyme
When she’s lost in the song, her words cannot lie
They flow from her soul, they become her life.

Listen in close and feel it deep down
Measure upon measure of truth un-adultered
She lost the knife, so instead she found
Inspiration so soft and so tender

"Hold tight my love and never betray it
Feel my grip, I’ll never let go
Never let go…

Bloody birthmarks upon my wrists,
Where are my wax wings of vanity?
They melted away as I flew close to you,
Feel the wind rush past, I'm falling so quickly
Falling so quickly…

Horizon line blurs, god the ground is so close
And I feel the cool beauty’s kiss
Butterflies feeding me nectarous lines
Words laced with astatine inflections.
Sweet summer’s song, the cold melody of winter
And springing from it all, the fall of your pretenses.
Because I can see clearly
So very clearly…

Laceration birthmarks adorn my pale wrists
And I feel them with every beat of my heart
Not seen at my birth, they still marred my soul
And they’ll be there till death do I depart
Forever remaining
Forever reminding
Of the cost of love."

[Elfin]

Okay, here's my poem. Not very good, perhaps...but still.


Prompt: Relaxation

Soft I sigh,
Lie upon the sandy shore
And listen to the mighty theme
Which I have heard a thousand times and more.
Above, feeble wisps of morning mist retreat,
Make way for the symphony of sunrise.
Day breaks, and in the eastern sky it has begun:
Concordant melodies tread their well-worn paths.
Soft winds play across the silver eaves
Dew-laden, dusk-woven
Resplendent in the dawn.
Lofty on his gilded seat
The Sun laughs, and lets loose his golden songs
To roam about the fiery skies
Unvaulted heavens, clad in mighty hues
Echoing across the radiant roads
Of the Sun and Moon.
Dusty rays of dawn-spun light
Pierce the dark fog, shadow-wrought
And chase away the shaded night.
Waves stride about the stormy seas,
Telling tales of distant shores:
Foam-crested, they bear the sweet aromas of the West,
Far lands across the pathless seas of grey
Where gulls, screeching, soar about high towers
And in white realms beyond the dreams of Men.

Swift briny winds caress my easy face
And soft I sigh,
Content.

[Dallas-Dakota]

My eyes are closed,
Because here, I have comfort, in that nothing is fake or posed.

My ears are not active.
Because here, I am at ease, with these sounds, I can live.

My mouth is shut,
Because I have no need to shout, in this hut.

My nose is silent,
Because here, smells are simple and familiar, nothing violent.

My skin, is at ease,
Because here, I can relax in my lover's warmth, and the gentle breeze.


Hmmm, this is what came out.
I like it, but I feel like this is not enough or good enough for this contest.

Maybe will write a new poem.
So perhaps it will change.
Edit: Great, first page too.

[The Extinguisher]

Alright, I think I managed to get this to work.

Prompt: Parable
The Parable of a Warped Mind

Books and stories
Written by old men
Books and stories
Passed on through time
Pretend to understand
Pretend to listen

I'll guarantee
You'll know nothing when it's done

Don't blame the prodigal
For running from his home
Don't pity the grasshopper
Who went hungry in the cold
Pretend to understand
Pretend to listen

Don't believe the caves
Where shadows try to creep
Don't believe the fairy tales
They'll haunt you in your sleep
Pretend to understand
Pretend to listen
I'll guarantee
You'll know nothing in the end
Pretend to understand
Pretend to understand

[Devigod]

Worked and reworked a few times. I think I'm reasonably happy with it, but, as Alexander Pope himself has proven, poetry is a never ending process.

So witness this iteration. To revise is to reimagine.

Prompt: Magician
Arrive the wicked man with gleaming eye
Whose very visage Pluto sought to fly
Perceive this man who conquered day and night
And note this deed which sent death on his flight

A knave of warlock charms and wicked ways
Who cloak’d in dark the pistons of the rays
With mighty magicks rendered night immune
And covered so the mirror of the moon

Established order to the night and day
This wily magi bought about his prey
As Shaitan interlop’d the gallant feast
So brought and slew himself, to serve the beast

The men about did thirst to see and meet
This one who dared to mother nature cheat
So stood he robed in fabric fine and mist
And finely polished rings about his wrist

‘Oh fellow here!’ Cried they to him address
‘We thank you well for this welcome recess’
And smiled he for it was then he knew
And answered he intent on their construe

‘Oh friend indeed, I come from simple lands’
‘And carry coin that’s passed through many hands’
O blackest man! Who tars and feathers fools
His inky eyes reflect like clouded pools

To first take men as wizened as the owl
Reduced to hawks to vultures, fowl
And fin’lly cuckolds they remain to breed
So dumbly pecking; praying for their seed

He briefly took the town and swept them rough
He bought with words and magic tricks and bluff
And done with truths began to lead astray
And set about his plans to man betray

So murm’ring took the mantel of the priest
And drink to slake the public thirst released
With rem’dies potent worst in all the world
Roughly cut and wick’dly curled

He staves off death and brings to bear much worse
And with sick morals manner to perverse
So swept by words and promises half true
Driven wrong with thinly gilded virtue

Like cat’blepas he sculpted art with stones
This man takes life and then with art atones
And gath’ring flocks like rings about his point
And darkly unguents with which to anoint

He brought perfumes that choked the throat like smoke
With stranger scents attuned a human yoke
But yet with such great power did he find
That these sheep were like he; they sought divine

Resigning pris’ners hang there meekly noosed
With fallen razors tired, overused
Dark sanguine cried the skies instead of rain
To sweep the frowns in terse and Hym’nic chain

And loudly blew their am’rous war on oth’r
For fumes unkindled passionate did smother
Soon o’er the din this man did make decree
And labor’d bore the fruits de Sade Marquee

And so fell prey to his own very tricks
He fashioned symbols out of meager sticks
So stabbed the air to look upon his might
And challenged gods to claim the highest light

He stood unanswered save for winded sighs
Of fickle nature tired of those cries
And so with time came dust to make its stain
And Charon ‘turned to take this tyrant vain

[thurge namor]

well golly guys, just go ahead and make me feel all cliche with my poems... blah! maybe next week (if i survive this round) i should put some more planning into it :smalltongue:

[Gaelbert]

Obligatory negative comment about my poem.


Bracket 6 - Misconception
*coolgaelbert
*McBish


Urban jungle, city forest
lanscape full of life;
Glittering trees that pierce the sky
and shine with reflected light.
Rushing crowds and narrow currents
rushing through a narrow gorge
color, music, sun dappled light:
it's life, energy, a vital force.

But where is this fantastic, idealized land?
Certainly nowhere to be seen on this black earth.

Urban jungle, city forest?
No, a bleak desolate wasteland.
Corpses standing
stiff with rigour mortis
Dead fingers pointed towards the sky.
Lifeless husks clenchin an infertile faith
jagged edges ripping a barren horizon.
But wait, down below, movement stirs:
Could this be hope I spy?
No, nothing but a sea of rats
scavenging derelicts of broken dreams.
Cruel shards of hope slashing at festering flesh;
slicing, cutting, but with no bleeding
as blood would begat life.
No, these rats are nothing but
empty shells themselves.

[Zeb The Troll]

In light of the fact that the newcomer already has a finished entry, I see no need to extend anything. Sorry for those who were looking forward to it. :smallcool:

And looking forward to reading all of the finished poems!

[Heroic]

Done!

I'm not absolutely happy with the final product.

Theme: Megalomania

Delusions of Grandeur

Since my birth
I’ve been the greatest
Man to walk this earth.

I am totally sane,
But those who contradict me
Will suffer piercing pain.

Wealth is all I desire,
Burning bright,
Like a crackling fire.

Glory is what I crave.
And he who opposes me
Shall meet his grave.

Power is what I require.
Above all else,
It’s what I aspire.

I need this things
Which I want,
And there is absolutely
Nothing I can’t
Possess.

[FirebirdFlying]

*sigh*

Theme: Birthmark

Abandon

Six-fingered Jane is too restless today;
Her three thumbs are tapping the table
But Peter and Paul cannot tell her to stop
Their shared mouth is far too unstable -
And ten-years old Marcus eats soup with a fork
Though arthritis has made him unable
Faith's third eye is blinking but still cannot see
Her three empty irises stare right through me
As if in an envious, frightening plea
For my face and my mind and my body.

Margaret wanders as far as she can -
The length from her cot to the garden
These stone walls have made her a pitiful thing -
Her eyes are too frightened, too hardened -
And sweet darling Clara is under the ground
For her dead legs could never be pardoned
Yet I walk these hallways as sure as the rest
No error! No defect; forever a guest
For out of them all I'm the worst, I'm the best
In my face and my mind and my body.

Father was quiet and angry and sad,
And Mother claimed she could not please him -
So I was the sacrifice, given my birth
In a desperate attempt to appease him
But when I was born I was flawed and deformed
As if we had tried merely to tease him -
For burned in my skin was the witch-mark I hate
A practical joke played by ignorant fate
My single marred feature, my demon-cursed trait
On my face, in my mind, on my body.

Some think me mute, or insane, or a fool,
But I am not those - merely tired,
And someday I'll scramble my way through these walls
In a madness these friends have inspired;
For now I must stay - as a beacon of what?
Only that which each one here desires -
Not healing, or genius, or yet to atone,
But only a freedom of life beyond stone
I'll carry them all to a bright land unknown
With my face, and my mind, and my body.


So, I feel like I need to expand this world somewhat in the poem - explain more clearly why the birthmark puts Mr./Ms. Protagonist in the asylum/hospital/thing with all the rest; however, I really don't like blatant exposition in the middle of a poem. Gah. Must figure that out one of these days…

[Alarra]

Prompt: Messenger

Polished, pressed, creased and crisp,
haunted eyes, frozen smile.
I detach from the task at hand.

Today, they are four.
A neat pile, careful list
of lives reduced to letters.

Stalling over coffee, driving,
begging time to slow.
An unwilling knock,
I pray you are not home.

I watch your eyes, trailing
the uniform, envelope,
my solemn expression.

You know.
And nothing I can say
could quell your fears
stem your tears.

I offer a shoulder,
an ear, a tissue,
tell you I am sorry.

You speak of his bravery,
commitment and love.
And while I’d listen all day,
time denies.

I leave, heavy thoughts,
a wish to take his place.
Fighting war, even death,
would bring less pain.

Yet this is my task,
I wouldn’t force on another
and I bear it well.

So while tears burn unshed,
I cross you from my list,
drive down the street
to break another heart.

[Elvaris]

I had to check three or four times just to be sure I read the prompt right... Decomposition? Really? Decomposition? Not that it's necessarily hard, or even an uncommon theme in poetry... it just felt... odd. Or that might have just been me.

Prompt: Decomposition

Love Song Z

When you bit me on the shoulder, you gave me quite a fright.
And when I ripped your arm off, it was a grisly sight.
But the way you muttered "brains..." I knew it must be right.

A hint of skin,
A wisp of hair.
No other zombie
Can compare.

You're the steel gray apple
Of my dead and bloated eye.
And I couldn't see you shambling
With any other guy.

For someone with your style,
My normal groans won't do.
So if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

We had a date.
We grabbed a bite.
He didn't even
Put up a fight.

I thought you might not care
Who was eating at your side.
But many other zombies
Came to see what had just died.

And when you drove them off,
I knew your heart was true.
So if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

If we'd have met
Before we died
You would have made
A stunning bride.

But even now your beauty
Belies your torpid state.
And as long as we're together,
We'll face our common fate.

We can't grow old together,
So we'll share undeath for two.
And if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

[Zeb The Troll]

Okay, we have 12 of 16 poets up. That's not too bad. I've PM'd the other 4 reminding them that they have a 1 day extension should they need it, and I've PM'd our judges to let them know that there are poems ready to be pored over right now. :smallcool:

I've also linked the details post (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=6925008#post6925008) with the entry for each contestant to make it easier to find.

Good luck to everyone!

[AJWB]

So...many...poems...

Good job, everyone. I'll have my judgments by Sunday evening.

[Blackjackg]

Thanks for the day of grace, folks. When it came down to two neglected projects that had to be done Monday night, I chose the one that was a course requirement, and I'm grateful for the understanding. Here is the poem, simultaneously proud and intimidated to be judged against Elvaris' zombie love song.

Prompt: Decomposition


Rot

My uncle built a cabin in Wisconsin,
near the shore of Lake Long-Gone,
out of raw untreated logs. He didn't know a thing
about construction or weatherproofing, just stacked

one log on top
of another
until he was satisfied it'd hold a roof.
In retrospect,

it was an astounding achievement.
He spent his summers there, drinking
mostly, and fishing. While he played at banking
in the winter, snow crept in through cracks
and ate away the logs, made them brittle. He wasted

his last days there, in September.
We laid him in the wet autumn soil
near Lake Long-Gone and left
him and his cabin
to rot.

[Zeb The Troll]

Hey, that makes 14 of 16 first round entries. That's a pretty good showing!

Judges, don't forget to review the brackets with only one entrant as well. The feedback from you guys is at least as important to the poets as moving on to the next round or not.

:smallcool:

[The Extinguisher]

Now I feel bad D:

I always hate winning because my opponent was a no-show.

[Devigod]

I think it's only thirteen... but I feel your pain, Extinguisher... I feel your pain.

At least we still got at least one from each bracket so the next bracket isn't screwed up later!

[thurge namor]

well im, for one, extremely glad to have competition... last competition my first round was a no show and my second round was Alarra, so i realy didnt get a chance... :smallbiggrin:

[Fifty-Eyed Fred]

Now I feel bad D:

I always hate winning because my opponent was a no-show.

Sorry about that. Life conspired to make me too busy this week :smallfrown: next time, however... :smallamused:

[The Extinguisher]

Sorry about that. Life conspired to make me too busy this week :smallfrown: next time, however... :smallamused:

Don't worry about it. Life happens. :smallsmile:

[Dallas-Dakota]

Hey, that makes 14 of 16 first round entries. That's a pretty good showing!

Judges, don't forget to review the brackets with only one entrant as well. The feedback from you guys is at least as important to the poets as moving on to the next round or not.

:smallcool:
Well, to me actually, the feedback is more important.

But going to the next round is a huge ego boost for me!

[Heroic]

Well, to me actually, the feedback is more important.

But going to the next round is a huge ego boost for me!

Same here! :smallbiggrin:

[Devigod]

*Bump*

We have any of our other judges around here?

You all still alive?

[Heroic]

I was just waiting for someone to bump this to avoid the double post.
Any idea when judges will show us the critiques?

[Elvaris]

Any idea when judges will show us the critiques?
When they're ready.

Quality judging in these contests, the kind of feedback we're all jonesing for, takes time. Especially when there are thirteen different poems to read, critique, and then judge against one another.

[Zeb The Troll]

I recently PM'd all three of them to remind them that the poems are in. But like Elvaris said, it takes time to put together a good critique of 13 poems and sometimes the pairings are just really too close to call easily and you have to let them simmer a bit. :smallcool:

[Devigod]

Hence why my bump was just to make sure we had everybody still breathing around here.

I can wait as long as it takes; not holding my breath on anything here but a good critique to improve my style.

[AJWB]

Apologies for my tardiness, poets. There are just so many poems and so little of me. As always, if you want me to elaborate further, please message me and I will try to explain my judgments better.

Fifty-Eyed Fred vs. The Extinguisher: Parable
Fifty-Eyed Fred
No entry :(
The Extinguisher
Certainly a darker take on the prompt. I'm not sure if I like what you did with it, but you pulled it off very well. It's got good flow and good structure that lends itself well to the attitude and feel of the poem. Well done.
Verdict
The Extinguisher


Elvaris vs. Blackjackg: Decomposition
Elvaris
I love the Jonathan Coulton vibe this poem has going on. Just because they're mindless, soulless husks of people, why can't zombies find love? Very well done. Everything just seems to click.
Blackjackg
I like where you went with this. It's sad, yet wholesome in its own way. What draws me out of it is the overall structure and flow of the poem. I suppose you were intending for it to be that way, as the hanging lines of the poem seem reminiscent of the rotting cabin itself, but at the same time it takes me out of the poem and forces me to try to comprehend what the poem wants me to do, as opposed to letting it just click.
Verdict
Elvaris


thurge namor vs. FirebirdFlying: Birthmark
thurge namor
It's good. I certainly don't mind the tone change. I find it necessary and fitting. That said, the structure is the one thing here that doesn't click with me. Some of the lines and verses it seems that you're trying to fit too much in, and some of the language you use (for example, "laceration") takes away from the simple elegance and beauty of the rest of the poem.
FirebirdFlying
I really like this poem. To me, everything seems to kind of click together. It flows well, it's got this weird eeriness to it, and the final verse just seems to wrap it all up very nicely. Well done.
Verdict
FirebirdFlying


Rutskarn vs. Alarra: Messenger
Rutskarn
Hmm. Lots of conflicting thoughts going through my head as I read this. The artist in me appreciates what you've done with the color and formatting, but I'm forced to say "Shouldn't the poem speak on its own?" That said, I feel that the color detracts from the poem as a whole. Regardless of my feelings on the color and whatnot, this is still a great poem. It flows well, it's got really cool verbage and visualization, I like it a lot.
Alarra
There's a lot of powerful emotion here, and I'm really liking it. It's a bit depressing, but that type of depressing that really makes you think about the subject. Overall, a great poem.
Verdict
Alarra


lvl 1 fighter vs. Heroic: Megalomaniac
lvl 1 fighter
No entry :(
Heroic
I get this feeling that you wanted to do a lot more with this, and I would have loved to see this poem in full splendor. As it is, it seems...incomplete. Though, I must say, for a poem called "Delusions of Grandeur," the fact that it's a very simple poem has a sweet sort of irony to it, which I like.
Verdict
Heroic


coolgaelbert vs. McBish: Misconception
coolgaelbert
Totally digging the first two stanzas, but something in the last half of the poem the flow seems to break down a bit. Some of the lines seem to drag on and it takes away from the power of the second part of the poem.
McBish
Cool way to do the prompt, but the way the poem itself is set up doesn't seem to work very well. The lines seem to cut off arbitrarily and it gives it a William Shatner-esque vibe, which I don't think you were going for.
Verdict
coolgaelbert


The Demented One vs. Devigod: Magician
The Demented One
No entry :(
Devigod
Cool poem. Reminiscent of some of Rush's early stuff, which is always a plus. However, some lines it felt that you were trying to fit in extra words just to lengthen the lines a bit, and it really detracts from any flow the poem begins to generate, which in turn ruins any immersion into the awesome world this poem is creating.
Verdict
Devigod


DD the Cookiemonster vs. Elvenblade: Relaxation
DD the Cookiemonster
Simple, as the prompt would seem to dictate. I like it. One thing I don't like is the continuity break in the "mouth" verse, as every other one says "because here," but that verse says "because I," which takes away from the flow and grace of the poem.
ElvenBlade
I like it, but it seems like sometimes you try to use words that don't seem to lend themselves to the feeling of the poem. Simpler words would have made everything fit together, I think, as it seems like there's just too much going on for the prompt "Relaxation."
Verdict
DD the Cookiemonster

[truemane]

And don't forget that it's sort of traditional for the judges to have a two-week period to judge Round One simply because of the large number of submissions.

[Heroic]

Just a bump to check if poets are still alive :smallbiggrin:

[Rutskarn]

Alive, waiting patiently.

[McBish]

Dead but still around for posting.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Undead.

Yeah, still around.

[Elfin]

Still around.

[The Extinguisher]

I write all my poetry while I'm dead anyway.

[Alarra]

Just a bump to check if poets are still alive :smallbiggrin:

I think the real question here is whether the judges are still alive.
*looks around*

[Zeb The Troll]

I've PM'd the two remaining judges to remind them that this is still here. Hopefully we'll get the feedback soon.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Hopefully...

[Elvaris]

Question on formatting for the non-judges, while we're waiting...


This:


When you bit me on the shoulder, you gave me quite a fright.
And when I ripped your arm off, it was a grisly sight.
But the way you muttered "brains..." I knew it must be right.

A hint of skin,
A wisp of hair.
No other zombie
Can compare.

You're the steel gray apple
Of my dead and bloated eye.
And I couldn't see you shambling
With any other guy.

For someone with your style,
My normal groans won't do.
So if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

We had a date.
We grabbed a bite.
He didn't even
Put up a fight.

I thought you might not care
Who was eating at your side.
But many other zombies
Came to see what had just died.

And when you drove them off,
I knew your heart was true.
So if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

If we'd have met
Before we died
You would have made
A stunning bride.

But even now your beauty
Belies your torpid state.
And as long as we're together,
We'll face our common fate.

We can't grow old together,
So we'll share undeath for two.
And if you'll rot with me,
Then I'll decompose with you.

or this:


When you bit me on the shoulder, you gave me quite a fright.
And when I ripped your arm off, it was a grisly sight.
But the way you muttered "brains..." I knew it must be right.

A hint of skin,
A wisp of hair.
No other zombie
Can compare.

You're the steel gray apple of my dead and bloated eye.
And I couldn't see you shambling with any other guy.
For someone with your style, my normal groans won't do.
So if you'll rot with me, then I'll decompose with you.

We had a date.
We grabbed a bite.
He didn't even
Put up a fight.

I thought you might not care who was eating at your side.
But many other zombies came to see what had just died.
And when you drove them off, I knew your heart was true.
So if you'll rot with me, then I'll decompose with you.

If we'd have met
Before we died
You would have made
A stunning bride.

But even now your beauty belies your torpid state.
And as long as we're together, we'll face our common fate.
We can't grow old together, so we'll share undeath for two.
And if you'll rot with me, then I'll decompose with you.


It's the same poem in both cases, and it's probably not a big deal, but I was really torn between the two before posting. I feel like the second has more coherence in meter, rhyme and theme, but the long lines outside the introduction really lost the light feel of what's supposed to be a cute little song. Again, I'm probably just overthinking this, but I'd like an opinion other than the "Whatever you chose was wrong" my self-doubt provides...

[Alarra]

I prefer the first formatting. The shorter lines do give it a lighter feel and gives each line more impact.

[Elfin]

I prefer the first as well; I think the lighter feel complements the humorous tone of the poem.

[The Extinguisher]

I like the first, but I'd combine it into 8 line stanzas for those parts.

[Elvaris]

Thanks to all three of you. I guess it just surprised me how much of a difference something like that made (hence the "Is it just me, or?..." question). And yes, I do tend to get locked into 4 line stanzas/verses. Doubling up would have eased some of my reservations about the difference.

And I have to say, this is not something I would have imagined I'd be asking about before these contests started.

[Dallas-Dakota]

I'l go with the first as well. Just feels lighter and more appropriete to the setting.

[AJWB]

Yeah, formatting adds such a huge part of immersion into the poem that I didn't realize until I started judging these poems. It just makes such a huge difference depending on what you're trying to get the reader to feel. I've learned more about poetry in the past 4 or so months of judging Iron Poet than I did in 12 years of English classes.

EDIT: And yeah, the first makes it easier to read while keeping the nice, simple flow you've got going that gives the poem its charm.

[Dallas-Dakota]

I just realized a possible better format for this poem.
And yeah, the Mouth sentance still looks odd and out of place.




My eyes are closed,
Because here, I have comfort, in that nothing is fake or posed.

My ears are not active.
Because here, I am at ease, with these sounds, I can live.

My mouth is shut,
Because I have no need to shout, in this hut.

My nose is silent,
Because here, smells are simple and familiar, nothing violent.

My skin, is at ease,
Because here, I can relax in my lover's warmth, and the gentle breeze.





My eyes are closed,
Because here, I have comfort,
in that nothing is fake or posed.

My ears are not active.
Because here, I am at ease,
with these sounds, I can live.

My mouth is shut,
Because I have no need to shout, in this hut.

My nose is silent,
Because here, smells are simple
and familiar, nothing violent.

My skin, is at ease,
Because here, I can relax in my lover's warmth,
and the gentle breeze.



I prefer the latter, new one, myself.

Oppinions?

V : Like this?



My eyes are closed,
Because here,
I have comfort,
in that nothing
is fake or posed.

My ears are not active.
Because here,
I am at ease,
with these sounds,
I can live.

My mouth is shut,
Because here,
I have no need
to shout,
in this hut.

My nose is silent,
Because here,
smells are
simple and familiar,
nothing violent.

My skin,
is at ease,
Because here,
I can relax
in my lover's
warmth,
and the
gentle breeze.

Yeah, seems a bit overboard with the line breaks, but it has it's own appeal.

[Elvaris]

Opinions?


Personally, I'd go even further and put the "Because here," on its own line; Make each line one "breath" and give it the feel of a mantra being chanted during meditation. I'd probably even make sure the sentences that follow had a natural break in them and split them up too. Make each line shorter as the chanter drifts further away.

Or I could just be going overboard on line breaks. It has happened before.

[truemane]

Hello Poets. I offer my apologies for my lateness. My excuses are the usual culprits. Work. RL. Etc. But I'm committing to getting every critique and judgement finished and posted by Friday of next week.

Hopefully sooner.

[Rutskarn]

Hurry up, Trumane! I've got a bet running on the severity of my dishonorable, ungraceful, pants-soiling defeat. I've got it pegged as Tyson vs. Hawking, whereas my colleague's leaning more towards a sexually frustrated hippopotamus versus a man made entirely out of shaved ice.

[truemane]

I'm almost exactly half-way done, folks. I got Rl'd up for two days this week, one with a sick young'un and one with an unexpected trainee. I'maiming to have 'em all done today.

But it just might be tomorrow....

[Dallas-Dakota]

So is Dish still alive?

[Zeb The Troll]

Her profile says she was active this weekend, so yes. :smallcool:

[Rutskarn]

Alright, let's just sorta mutually agree to not touch this thread until the rulings are in. Otherwise, what with this and Iron Avatarist having impending high-stakes rulings in progress, I might end up exploding from internal stresses.

[Dallas-Dakota]

I thought you already did that every other weekend?:smallconfused:

[Rutskarn]

1.) That's only as a hobby, and

2.) Oh god see what I mean ARRGGHHH

[truemane]

Okay, poets. Here we go. Almost a week late, I know. I read each poem out of sequence so that I could better see them as individual peices and not as paired units. And I saved them in text files without names so I had no idea who wrote what as I was reading (except for Rutskarn, who's colourful text was fairly distinctive).

In re-reading my critiques while compiling them here, I certainly mention a lot more 'opportunities' than I do 'assets.' I dont' mean to be or to sound negative and I hope everyone so afflicted can take my comments in the spirit with which they are given: as a means to help you improve as poets.

Without further to-do, I present to you, ROUND ONE.

*DUCKS IN ANTICIPATION OF FLAMING*

Bracket 1 - Parable

Fifty-Eyed Fred

No entry


The Extinguisher
Parable of a Warped Mind

First off, the title. This is a personal thing, but I still think a valuable thing, strike the phrase 'Warped Mind' from your lexicon. Completely. Same with Twisted Mind or Demented Mind or anything of that nature. The whole 'ramblings of a guy who's crazy' thing has been done and done and done to death. Whenever I read 'Warped Mind' my first thought is that someone couldn't be bothered to think up something more interesting. WHY is the mind warped? What's warped about it? What, in particular, goes on in this mind that makes it substantially different from what goes on in other people's minds? If you can't think of anything in particular, then the phrase is just pap. If you can think of something, then wrap THAT concept up in words and give us that instead.

"Parable of the Cynical Academic"
"Parable of a Bibliophile Spurned"
"Parable of the Bookworm who Broke his Glasses"
"Parable of the Man who Read a Story When he was a Kid and Believed it was True and all his Friends made Fun of Him and he Vowed Never to Believe Anything he Read in a Book Ever Ever Again"

Something. Even if it doesn't make any logical sense. Even if it's obscure. So long as it's specific and evocative, we'll buy into it. And then the title is feeding your thesis and not just hanging over it. Also, while we're on the title, the poem itself is most certainly not a parable. Maybe that was meant ironically? If so, in my opinion it didn't work.

Unfortunately, I found the piece itself to be more of the same. WHY can't I blame the prodigal son? WHY shouldn't I pity the grasshopper? What caves? What fairy stories? What is it, exactly, that I'm not supposed to understand? These questions are partially facetious because I get what you're saying, conventional wisdom is false and without meaning and such, but unless you can somehow tell me how, or why, or give me some idea of the perspective of the narrator, or some context, then you're just marching words across the page but not saying anything substantial.

So, if you feel like reworking this, start with the narrator. Decide who that guy is, what he's about, and why. Then give us a few stanzas of his point of view. What he thinks of fairy stories and caves and myths parables. Do that well enough and the piece itself will just fall into place.


Verdict

The Extinguisher, by default.



Bracket 2 - Decomposition


Elvaris
Love Song Z

Elvaris I love you. Seriously. I see your name on a submission and I start smiling before I even open the file. And then I do that serious-face-ahem-time-to-be-serious-thing so as to retain my 'objectivity' and then I find myself smiling as soon as I start reading. This time I read all the pieces without names but I knew this was you the moment I started.

This was one of your better ones, in my opinion. Sometimes you try to tack that fanciful knack for the language you have with content that's more serious or 'real' and I find what happens is that the two don't mix. Your playful words clash with serious subject matter and the whole thing can just sound facile or shallow.

But when you cut loose and just let it all hang out you start to show your skills. Your rhythm and rhyme are always excellent and well-executed. I find your work just flows from the tongue so well I often find myself reading the pieces out loud just to savour the words. Your word choices and images are also excellent, unusual, striking, sometimes almost profound. But never boring.

You're the steel gray apple
Of my dead and bloated eye.
And I couldn't see you shambling
With any other guy.

I challenge anyone to read than and not go 'Awwww...' and then giggle to themselves.

I don't have anything negative to say. This is what you do and you do it better than anyone else I know.


Blackjackg
Rot

There's a lot of really good stuff in here. Which makes the not-as-good stuff so much more frustrating. First off, I love your enjambment and sense of timing and pace. The way you break the sentences and leave those indeterminate phrases just hanging there really works with this piece. The vaguely surreal tone it conveys contrasts well with the sharply drawn images.

one log on top
of another
until he was satisfied it'd hold a roof.
In retrospect,

This is especially well done. First the short, clipped lines to denote the log stacking, the longer line for holding the roof, and then "In retrospect," just stuck on the end as if it belongs there. So the phrase almost becomes "Until he was satisfied it'd hold a roof in retrospect." Which doesn't even make any sense. Except that it kinda does. I like your word choices. Simple. Clear. Evocative. I like the images. Clean and sharp.

But what's missing here, for me anyway, is a little more. Either a little more about your uncle, or a little more about the cabin, or a little more about what kind of man he was. Was he lazy and neglectful and THAT'S why he spent his time there in that cabin (instead of with his wife or kids or friends or whatever) or was he just a loner? And if so, why? Shy? Stressed? Longing for a simpler life?

And the end doesn't work for me at all. You just left him to rot? And his cabin too? I understand why that might have happened, in the strictly practical sense (what are you going to do? Denote the cabin a landmark? Of course you leave it to rot) but phrased as it is it sound like the guy died and you just forgot all about him. Something after this point to denote his legacy would be nice. Even if that legacy exists nowhere but in the mind of the narrator.

I like it. I think it shows a good command of structured verse and a good ear for the rhythm of the language. Most poems you'd like a little less. This one, I'd have liked to read for a little longer.


Verdict

Elvaris. Tough decision, but Elvaris' technical expertise wins the day.



Bracket 3 - Birthmark


thurge namor
The Cost of Love

I liked this piece because it was saying something. You took the prompt, constructed a central image (cut-lines as birthmarks - excellent stuff) and wrapped that thesis in a character and a scenario that had movement and motion and flow. Nice work. A lot of people think poetry is just image and image and image until you're done with no thought of narrative development or beginning-middle-end or any of the things they'd take for granted in prose. You avoided that pitfall and it works.

HOWEVER you fell right into the depths of another common poetry pitfall: overly ornate language. Some of what you have here is good and it works, but too often you delve into that over-formal-high-english-thee-thou-thine tone and it feels false. Especially when you're telling a story as delicate and as painful as this one.

Especially especially the quoted portion at the end. Once we're talking in the girl's own words, all pretense should fall away and we should hear the words right out of her heart and soul. Especially when it’s Free Verse. 'Laceration birthmarks adorn my pale wrists'? Does anyone talk like that? I don't think so. And so when I read that the immediacy and the reality of the situation are removed and suddenly I'm not sharing someone's pain, I'm reading a poem.

There are ways to include that kind of language, but you have to make it fit. Formal rhythm and rhyme schemes offer a hiding place for some of it. People are just more amenable to hearing that kind of formal and archaic language when the poem sounds more formal and archaic. Maybe she DOES talk like that. But if she does, like in a story, you have to find a way to tell us she does so we understand.

I would dearly like to see this piece re-written. Go over it and don't write a single thing you wouldn't say if you were half-drunk and telling a buddy about 'this girl I used to know.' Then decide who this girl is, and what she sounds like, and then put HER words down on the page. Take that, and make THAT the core of your story.

I'm willing to bet the result would just sing.


FirebirdFlying
Abandon

Is it bad if I say I giggled all the way through this piece? It took a serious turn toward the end but the whole set-up and execution was so... I don't know... heedless? What an odd idea and what an odd little poem you made out of it.

The title. "Abandon." Interesting choice. Taken as a noun, all by itself like that, and it can mean unfettered actions, reckless behaviour. But taken as a verb and it's suddenly an imperative. "Abandon!" like a command. And of course it means to cast off and leave behind. I'm not sure which one you meant, or if you meant both, but it starts the poem off on a sort of rootless plunge where you never know anything for certain.

Your rhyme scheme is equally eccentric. Rhyming alternate lines and then the tercet at the end of each stanza. It makes most of each stanza feel like regular talk and then draws everything forward with the triple rhyme toward your refrain, which as the statement of unavoidable fate, is just thing to be drawn inexorably toward.

If I had to point out something that could use improving, I'd say it's the rhythm. The dominant/rhyming lines are mostly anapestic (duh-duh-DUH duh-duh-DUH) but not completely. And the secondary/non-rhyming lines are sort of iambic (duh-DUH duh-DUH) but not completely. And the whole thing is kind of pentameter (ten syllables in each line) but not completely. Sometimes uneven rhythm works. But I think this piece would be better served by more discipline and more structure. If the whole thing had that vaguely sing-song feel that anapestic poetry has ("'Oh where are you going,' said read to rider/'Yonder's the valley where furnaces burn.'") I think it would given the narrative some movement and some energy and made the whole thing seem a little more surreal. So, if you feel like revising this, I recommend taking all the punctuation out and have someone else read it out loud to you just so you can see where the stresses break down. And then tweak.

But I laughed. And it was kinda almost profound there at the end too. Nice work. I look forward to seeing more from you.


Verdict

Firebird Flying. Another tough choice. But FF's piece was more complete and better executed.



Bracket 4 - Messenger


Rutskarn
The Messenger's Lives

I'll say it first, since it's the dominant aspect of this piece: the colours don't help. Print is generally black on a white background and sometimes the font is altered to generate certain literary conventions (italics for thoughts and the like) but the printed word is generally black on white, and you shouldn't depart from that unless there's good reason. Which isn't to say that there couldn't be good reason. There very well could. But I didn't see anything in this poem that made me think the additional splash was anything but distracting.

Maybe I missed it. If I did, I'm happy to be told so. But until then I maintain: the colours don't help.

Now. That being said, what you actually say is really quite effective. I want to fault the rhyme scheme as unnecessarily restrictive on the music of the language, but you use it well and there are places where the rhyme adds to the content by driving home several short phrases and hurling the reader forward.

A simple home that was, in summer, chill
A simple life that was forever still
My simple hands, that never beauty wrought
My simple voice, that never wisdom taught
Books full of things I that I would never learn
Rooms full of things that I would gladly burn

That's really good. The repetition of 'simple' almost becomes a hissed curse and the quick couplets convey a kind of frustrated energy in which you can imagine the narrator has said this stuff to himself over and over and over again until it has acquired the status of music in his head.

The rhythm is uneven, however, and that does hurt the piece. There are times when the number syllables is off sufficiently that it jars the reader out of the flow and makes them have to re-read the line again to get the sense. Do you read your work out loud before you finish? I recommend that to anyone writing poetry, but I would say it's almost mandatory for structured poetry. And then get someone else to read it out loud too. You tend to 'cheat' on the rhythm inside your head because you know how it's supposed to sound. But get someone else to read it and that'll help you with the places where it falters.

But, aside from the overly colourful text and the mildly uneven rhythm, I like this piece a lot. One of my favourites from the entire round, actually, and certainly the best marriage of content and form.


Alarra
Untitled

I have to say, Alarra, in a break from my judge's objectivity, that you're getting very good at this. I thought your initial forays into poetry were good, but you've improved quite markedly since then. It illustrates, first and foremost, your facility with the music of the language. But it also illustrates, I think, the importance of a supportive and critical community of writers. It's something a lot of writers don't get and something all writers need. Which is why I continue to support these contests.

Anyway... all that aside.

This was a well-constructed piece that was, to me anyway, disappointing in its content. I liked the short lines and the use of commas and periods to separate everything into sanitized bite-sized bits, the way I'd imagine such a messenger might have to arrange his day in order to stay sane. Although normally I'm big on sensual information, this time I liked the complete lack of anything outside of the job itself. No weather reports, no look at the car they're driving, no glimpse at the door, the walkway, nothing. I can imagine that this narrator is a person so completely focused on the task at hand that everything else just bleeds into that background.

But that's the problem. I can IMAGINE that the structure and images compliment who this person is, but I have to imagine it because you don't tell us. And that's what I'm missing here. Some sense of a specific perspective, of a particular person that's doing this, so that it becomes less about the act and more about the kind of person who could, would, and does do such a thing day after day.

Polished, pressed, creased and crisp,
haunted eyes, frozen smile.
I detach from the task at hand.

This is a good start. Polished and pressed. Both for appearance and maybe as a sort of armour against the horror of the upcoming day? Haunted eyes and frozen smile. Very nice. But then, instead of just telling us how he detaches, maybe show us something he does to detach? Or how he helps himself do it? Does he hum a song? Recite his laundry list? Some other ritualistic behaviour? Some information like that, peppered throughout the poem, would have made it more immediate and given it more impact. A lot of times, in art, the more specific and true you can be to a single individual, the more universal is the impact.


Verdict

Rutskarn. Maybe he didn't like his entry. But I sure did.



Bracket 5 - Megalomaniac


lvl 1 fighter

No Entry.


Heroic
Delusions of Grandeur

Have you ever thought about Megalomania? Like, thought about it? What would make someone so full of themselves that they would convince themelves that they are the single greatest person ever and whatever they want belongs to them? Genetics? Covering for low self-esteem? Too much coddling by parents? Not enough? And what would a megalomaniac do? I mean, sure, if they're a ruthyless dictator they start a war and take over Europe, easy enough. But how about when they're eight years old? What about the guy down the street who works at Burger King? What do they do then?

I ask because I don't think, from your piece, that you thought about it much. We have 75 words spoken by, I presume, a megalomaniac, but what's he saying? More or less he's just telling us what megalomania is. But we already know that. So what else does he have to say?

And the poem is called Delusions of Grandeur. So I can assume then that it's not a megalomniac speaking? He just sounds like one? Or is he pretending? Because most of what he says is descriptions of his wants and needs. "Glory is all I crave." Is that a delusion? A Delusion of Gradeur? Doesn't make any sense.


The only contribution the rhyme scheme makes to the poem is to force you to fit y our phrases into it, which makes them sound false.

Maybe you ran short on inspiration. I can dig that. It happens. But this piece is a miss-fire, I'm afraid.


Verdict

Heroic, by default.




Bracket 6 - Misconception


coolgaelbert
Untitled

Heh. Rigour mortis. Someone's Canadian. Or from across the pond.

My primary question for this piece, Bert, is: Who's confused? Whose misconception is this? Just a general one? Yours? The narrator’s? The world’s? Gotta be someone’s. This piece isn't bad. Some of it's pretty good. But it lacks a sense of perspective. And without an identifiable perspective to anchor it and give it shape and form, it's flow with no hook.

For example, read your first stanza to yourself. None of those images are particularly disputable. A city is a landscape full of life. Buildings are like glittering trees that 'pierce the sky.' There are rushing crowds and there is colour and music and sun. There's life and energy and vital force. All of these things exist in urban areas. I don't even find those descriptions particularly idealized or fantastical. I think they're pretty accurate. From a certain point of view.

But then you tell me they don't exist. And so I read the rest of the piece thinking 'crazy talk' and your point gets lost.

Now, had you given me a sense of who it is that's telling me this story. A hippie? A stock-broker? Some guy who lives on a farm? Then I could appreciate HIS point of view. Ahhh, I could say, THAT guy thinks these things don't exist. And then I could decide what to think about his opinion, to agree or disagree based on what I know of him based on what you show me.

So what we're left with is a series images, with no foundation to give them context and meaning. Which is disappointing, because the images are quite striking and often very effective.


McBish
Untitled

This piece really could have benefited from some clarity of purpose. I get what you're getting at and it's not a bad way to take the prompt and it's not even a bad execution. But it's muddled and unsure of itself in a way that kills the extended metaphor you're trying to draw here.

Start at the beginning. Walking in the space between who you are and who you will be. Which would be the NOW. Sweet. I'm there. Space, walk, Now on one side and SOON on the other. But then you're at the edge of the world. Where's my space? Where are my walls? What world? You were talking about yourself there a second ago and now there's the world in front of you? And then instead of resolving those two images in some fashion, you go off on an abstract ramble about uncertainty.

And then there's people falling. Are the people there, with you, in the space between who you are and who you will be? What are they doing there? Or are we in a different place now?

You see what I mean? You have to be careful of this stuff in poetry. Because poems are so often presented as fractured prone, it's easy to decide that the same rules don't apply. But they do. Even more so, in fact. The more fractured the language gets, the clearer it needs to communicate. Once you establish a metaphorical reality you then are obliged to operate according to the rules of that reality. Or gain meaning by breaking them. Whatever you do needs to make a point, even if your point is that there is no point. If your metaphor is that we're all alone in small boats, don't have the narrator pacing back and forth, yeah? And if you're walking in a space, keep me there, don't suddenly drop me at the edge of the world with a bunch of other people.

If a single dominant image or metaphor is the central focus of the piece, then that single dominant image/metaphor needs to be clear and clean and sharp. If you're in this space, then describe it to me. Show me what it looks like, smells like, sounds like, feels like. If this happens to involve the whole world, fine, but resolve the two and show us how that space between the two you's IS the edge of the world. And if there's other people, then that space is shared. Which is fine too, but you have to make it part of your central image or else you're just flitting from image to image without really saying anything.


Verdict

coolgaelbert. Neither piece particularly blew my skirt up, but coolgaelbert's was certainly better.



Bracket 7 - Magician


*The Demented One

No entry.


Devigod

I have to admit it, that was a lot of fun. A little forced in places, a little tortured, but highly entertaining. I read it a few extra times, just because it had a decent groove.

Couple of things:

You're only supposed to use an apostrophe to replace the 'e' in words that end in 'ed' when, without it, you'd pronounce the 'ed' as a separate syllable. "Who cloak’d in dark the pistons of the rays" for example. 'Cloaked' is one syllable and so you don't need the apostrophe. It doesn't do anything but make the word look strange, which in turn has the tendency to interrupt the flow of my reading and inhibit the transmission of your vision. It's not a BIG deal, and maybe you just like the way the word looked. Which is fine with me. But you do a lot of that throughout this piece. So watch that. Same with "Hym’nic." It's two syllables with or without the apostrophe, so you don't need it. And "wick’dly"? I have to say that in one syllable? You try it. I almost hurt myself.

And loudly blew their am’rous war on oth’r
For fumes unkindled passionate did smother

Amourous is correctly abbreviated. AM-russ, not AM-or-uss. But it's odd you abbreviated "other" (which didn't need it) but not "smother" with is the same rhyme and occupies the same place in the rhythm scheme.

It sounds like I'm picking on you, but I'm trying to point out the one real issue with this piece. You arrange everything in this incredibly formal structure and tone, and then aren't true enough to it to get away with it. Same goes with your 'and to the store I went' inverse diction. It works quite well quite often, but more than once you get lost in your own circumlocutions and forget to finish your phrases and complete your thoughts.

He briefly took the town and swept them rough
He bought with words and magic tricks and bluff
And done with truths began to lead astray
And set about his plans to man betray

Took the town, swept them rough, got it. And then he bought (with words and magic tricks and bluff)...what? There's no noun there. So the phrase just hangs. And, having bought nothing in particular, he decided enough with truth and began to lead astray (and set about his plans to man betray)... who? Again, no noun. No completion of the sentence. There are a lot of those, some more distracting than others. See what I mean?

Also, did you leave out the punctuation (aside from the apostrophes) on purpose? With no commas or periods the piece just goes without the natural pauses and breaths that you get in speech and so it's even more important that the words on the page are clear and distinct and easy to follow, since there's nowhere to pause and no aid from the grammar to help you along.

So murm’ring took the mantel of the priest
And drink to slake the public thirst released
With rem’dies potent worst in all the world
Roughly cut and wick’dly curled

And so, while murmuring (correct use of an apostrophe there, by the way) he took the mantel of the priest. Got it. And as this was going on, drink to slake the public thirst released? Or is released part of the next bit? Is it '...released with remedies potent.? In either case, the way you structured the line, 'took the mantel...' is the aside and 'murm'ring' is the operative verb. So it should be 'So murmuring, took the mantel of the priest and, drinking to slake the public thirst, released with remedies potent (worst in all the world roughly cut and wickedly curled)... what? What did he release along with the remedies potent? Again, you get lost in the grammatical digressions and the thought goes unfinished. Had you included some commas and parentheses or semi-colons to divide up the phrases and let us know what belongs to what, it would help us to read it and you to keep it all straight.

This might all seem horribly petty, and maybe it is. But when you make a particular aspect of your poem the point of the poem (as in this case the dominant feature of the piece isn't the picture so much as it is the frame) then you need to get that part right.

But, odd as it sounds after all that, I maintain that this was a lot of fun. Some of your more convoluted phrasings made me laugh at your sheer affrontery. I smiled a lot and thought you managed to squeeze the language into the structure quite successfully quite often.


Verdict

Devigod, by default. But in all fairness, his piece was ambitious and well-done.



Bracket 8 - Relaxation


DD the Cookiemonster
Untitled

I get what you're doing. And I think it sort of works. Short images, each related to one sense, each following a simple pattern. But it's muddled, DD. If you're going to make a poem out of five images and not vary the pattern by which the images are laid out, then the images themselves need to be striking and clear and evocative or it's not going to work. That makes sense, doesn't it? If you go to the theatre and all they have are jugglers and all you watch is juggling, that had better be some damned good juggling, right?

So. Poem. You close your eyes, why? Because you're comfortable? Why? Because nothing is fake or posed? Are you saying that you don't need to see because there's no fakery so you know everything? Or are you saying you don't need to see because there's nothing to be afraid of? I can sort of see both but you don't really say either one.

And it's the same all the way down. Silent nose. Do noses make a lot of noise normally? Why don't you have the need to shout in the hut? Why are you shouting everywhere else? No violent smells? Are smells violent a lot of the time? You're in a hut but there's a gentle breeze? I know there are windows, but you tell me hut-arms-lover and I think warmth and bed and quiet, not open windows and noise and wind.

I mean, I know it's a poem and poems aren't necessarily supposed to make logical sense, but the images still need to have some basic internal consistency. If you could think of one specific example of each sense that represents the OUTSIDE, and then on specific example that represents the peace and tranquility of inside, and present them to us, you might have something.

But as it is, I don't think it works.


Elvenblade
Untitled

Nice job, Elvenblade, especially considering that you didn't have a whole lot of time. I really enjoyed the sweep of this piece, the sense of movement and development. A lot of the time, when people write imagistic poetry, they just run around the same pole over and over again, but you started, you went and you came back.

The language itself is excellent. Well crafted and precise. "..feeble wisps of morning mist retreat.." is very nice. "Dusty rays of dawn-spun light..." is another line that just tastes nice on the tongue.

I've got a couple of gripes, most of the of the 'tweak' variety. I'm not sure the references to music help the picture you're trying to create. I get the whole 'music of the spheres' thing, but the sun doesn't actually make any noise. Nor does the sky. Not where I live anyway. So when you refer to these, I'm struck out of the scene you're trying to portray because you're adding a concrete element (sound) to a concrete image (dawn) where it does not belong in a concrete fashion. I would either find a less concrete way to include it ("It's almost as though the sun were singing to me..." or swap it out for sensual information that it actually there.

Similarly...

"Lie upon the sandy shore
And listen to the mighty theme
Which I have heard a thousand times and more."

I don't think this works, especially so close to the beginning. We get you, on the sandy shore, lying down, sighing. All very precise sensual information. We get where you are and why and we're there with you. And then BOOM! An abstract reference to a mighty theme that has no source so I can't imagine it and I can't add it to the sense-images you're drawing for me. And then the equally abstract 'Which I have heard..." which doesn't tell me anything I can imagine concretely. I would either get rid of that line completely or move further in, after you've painted your picture, so we can add it to the intangibles.

Other than that, strong piece. Well done.


Verdict

Elvenblade. A more complete and well-rendered piece.

[Jokasti]

When is the next IP?
I came back to the forums to late for this one, and would like to try it.
Some of my work is on my blog.

[Rutskarn]

Well, thanks, guys, it was great to participate. I'll see all of you next



Rutskarn. Maybe he didn't like his entry. But I sure did.

Fuh?

That's...wait, what?

...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gjXZdT0Qqw

I got a vote!

[Devigod]

Clickies for response to truemane (you don't have to read it if you don't want to):
First off, thanks so much for the critique. I know that fear may wrench at your heart whenever you give out constructive criticism because you feel there may be somebody you upset, but I really appreciate the amount of constructive criticism you've provided.

Couple of things:

You're only supposed to use an apostrophe to replace the 'e' in words that end in 'ed' when, without it, you'd pronounce the 'ed' as a separate syllable. "Who cloak’d in dark the pistons of the rays" for example. 'Cloaked' is one syllable and so you don't need the apostrophe. It doesn't do anything but make the word look strange, which in turn has the tendency to interrupt the flow of my reading and inhibit the transmission of your vision. It's not a BIG deal, and maybe you just like the way the word looked. Which is fine with me. But you do a lot of that throughout this piece. So watch that. Same with "Hym’nic." It's two syllables with or without the apostrophe, so you don't need it. And "wick’dly"? I have to say that in one syllable? You try it. I almost hurt myself.

Actually, the contracted Hym'nic was supposed to be Hymenic, (as in the god of marriage) but I suppose that is perhaps unclear by the untimeliness of the contraction.

I will agree that the latter word may be kind of a stretch. I laughed at your commentary.


Also, did you leave out the punctuation (aside from the apostrophes) on purpose? With no commas or periods the piece just goes without the natural pauses and breaths that you get in speech and so it's even more important that the words on the page are clear and distinct and easy to follow, since there's nowhere to pause and no aid from the grammar to help you along.

I used to punctuate the heck out of my poems before I decided that I wasn't sure whether to put periods at the end of lines or not, so I opted to leave this one quite virginal in terms of periods and commas. If you feel that their inclusion would help make the piece more coherent and organized, then that is exactly why I am in this community: useful input. Duly noted, and thanks for bearing with my apunctual mess.


This might all seem horribly petty, and maybe it is. But when you make a particular aspect of your poem the point of the poem (as in this case the dominant feature of the piece isn't the picture so much as it is the frame) then you need to get that part right.

But, odd as it sounds after all that, I maintain that this was a lot of fun. Some of your more convoluted phrasings made me laugh at your sheer affrontery. I smiled a lot and thought you managed to squeeze the language into the structure quite successfully quite often.

Well, I think effrontery is just a part of my nature. Good to know that at least some of the piece struck home, though I'm not sure whether or not I should be glad that you're smiling about it.

All in all, thanks a boatload for the rundown, and I look forward to using you for your critical eye and candid tongue next round.

On another note: Does anybody have a pulse on Dish? It'd be good to know that they haven't forgotten or not... if we haven't gotten a reply to PM (which I seem to recall somebody mentioning) should we look for another impromptu judge to wrap up the round or something?

[Rutskarn]

Dish hasn't posted in, like, a week and a half.

[Devigod]

Your avvie just changed!

Ach!

[Rutskarn]

Halloween costume.

[thurge namor]

@truemane: i understand completely... and just for the record, thats kinda how i speak outloud and on paper (though i somehow avoid it on txting and forumns) but, yah, thats how i would have actually said it if i was talking outloud

thatnks for the fun, ill see yall next time

[McBish]

Thanks for all the advice judges. And while I am out, I shall continue to read the poems here and look forward to seeing who comes out as the winner.

Oh and if it is decided a judge is needed, I am here and fairly active. So let me know.

[Rutskarn]

I would guess we need a new judge at this point. She hasn't dropped in in weeks.

[Elfin]

Thanks, Truemane.
I really appreciate the feedback, and definitely agree that the beginning could be improved.
Again, thanks. :smallsmile:

[thurge namor]

since my bracket has already been decided (and im now out) i could step in as a judge if its needed

[Zeb The Troll]

I've sent multiple PM's to dish and not gotten a response. The last one was on a day that her profile listed her as "active" even though she hadn't actually posted anything. That means she should have at least gotten it.

If none of the contestants have an issue with thurge namor judging, I certainly don't. Vaynor, do you?

thurge, I suggest giving this thread a good 48 hours to voice misgivings about you filling in as a judge. If none do, give them your best. If you do judge this round, please also comment on your opponent's poem as another source of feedback is still helpful.

EDIT: Jokasti - it's hard to say when the next one will start. Each round, the poets are given one week to compose after they're given their prompt. From there, it's been rough getting judges to respond as quickly as we'd like. That said, there are usually three or four rounds (this being the first) and each round is usually slightly faster than the previous because there are fewer poems to judge. All considered, I'd say expect the next one to be coming around in January or so, but I encourage you to keep watching this one. You'll get a chance to see what the judging tends to be like, what the poems tend to be like, and you might even be able to help out with a judgement should we lose one to finals or something. :smallcool:

[Dallas-Dakota]

Dunno bout the others, but Thurge judging is fine with me.

[Elfin]

I have no problem with Thurge judging, either.

[Rutskarn]

I'm also on board.

[The Extinguisher]

I have no problem with this. Judge away thurge namor

[Heroic]

truemane: I understand your critique, cause I did that poem in a rush during exam periods and without really thinking in the title. I hope to be more inspired for next round.

[Alarra]

I have no problems with Thurge judging either. And thank you for the great feedback, Truemane. You always have such useful insights.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Truemane: I get what you mean, but it was that way because :
1. It was hurried, I should have put more time into it.
2. If I made it longer, explaining more, then it would become to...dragged on, to complicated, just too much involved. If you get what I mean?

Thenks for the advice! And yeah, it doesn't really make that much sense.

[thurge namor]

Well, since there seem to be no objections, i guess i shall judge.

I went ahead and critiqued all the poems, regardless of the need for a sense of symetry as well as because criticism is a writer's best friend.

The Judgings: (cue dramatic game show music)


Bracket 1: Parable


The Extinguisher:
It seems to me that you had a grand idea of what you wanted to write, but when pen was put to paper you weren’t sure of how to pull it off. The concept of this poem is splendid and I like the message of it. Just the idea of it opens the door to so many poetic devices, but, sadly, it seems you couldn’t think of much to say during the poem. Furthermore, I like the lines you repeated through the poem: “pretend to understand/pretend to listen” In a poem as short as this you can’t afford much repetition before it seems overused. If there was a bit more in the middle, you could have easily had the repetition spaced out a bit more.

Verdict:
The Extinguisher by default




Bracket 2: Decomposition

Elvaris
Bwahaha! That was my first reaction, then I read it again and realized that among the comedy of the piece, it really is quite poetic. You seem to take on all the major themes of zomieness and love poetry and mesh it together into this chunk of decomposing goodness.

One criticism is that the beginning of the 9th stanza (But even now your beauty/Belies your torpid state.) is sort of hard on the little rhythm checkers inside of me. If I read it by itself I find no problem with it, but switching from the shorter lines of the 8th stanza to the longer, a bit less choppy lines of the 9th stanza… I don’t think there is much you can do about it except to change all the stanzas to one type, which would take away from the value of the poem…


Blackjackg

It seems to me like a story that you split up into sections. There wasn’t much flow to it and the breaks in the lines were kind of distracting. I do, though, love the last lines (left him and his cabin to rot) it sort of brings the whole piece to a close… Perhaps if you had written something a bit more poetic…


verdict:
Elvaris for better use of prompt and poetry


Bracket 3: Birthmark

Firebirdflying:

There isnt really much to say here... The concept is genius, execution is wonderful. It has a great flow, its nicely set up and ended. I actually find myself wanting to know more about this person trapped in the asylum. Great job.


Bracket 4: Messenger

Rutskarn:

This is one of those poems that you read and then look to your works in shame. I really cant imagine where you got the idea for this. The differing colors add a whole new feeling to it, it really brings the poem alive. Once again, I find that there isn’t much for me to say. Wonderful poem.

Alarra:
I really don’t know what to make of this. It’s a sad poem in more than one way:
There’s the fact that a soldier had died
There’s the woman grieving
There’s the man delivering the news who has to deal with this in his everyday life

And then there’s a sort of mixed message at the end. Marking a name of a list… hmmm. This could be taken to mean that the deaths are not as important to the country as it may seem, like they are just part of a list. But then again, perhaps its not saying that at all. Perhaps, it is instead showing that the man has become numb to the pain and can just move down his list… or perhaps…
I could go on and on. It’s a wonderful poem.


Verdict:
Rutskarn for sheer ingenuity. This was extremely hard to judge, i must admit


Bracket 5: megalomaniac

Heroic:
Some of the language in this seems forced, and the phrasing isn’t the best. “I need this things/which I want” hmmm… a bit of rephrasing, rewording and maybe a little fleshing out and this poem would be a lot better

verdict:
heroic by default


Bracket 6: misconception

coolgaelbert
Wow. That’s all I can really say. It all works so well. It has a good flow, good phrasing, a good message. Great job!

McBish
I don’t really see the prompt in this. Truthfully, I don’t really like the way this is written. It seems sort of clichéd to me… maybe if you were to change the words around a bit, a little bit more poetic phrasing and wordings can go a long way.

Verdict:
coolgaelbert for use of prompt


Bracket 7: Magician

Devigod
if only we could pick a "best-in-round" poem... simply amazing. i like the language used here, the way its phrased. It has an older poem feel. And it kinda feels weird to say this, but the italics you typed it in actually add to the poem in a visual sort of way. Simply amazing!

verdict:
Devigod, by default and sheer amazingness


Bracket 8: Relaxation

DD the cookiemonster
ah, simplicity. While the simple language and organization of this poem adds to the force of the meaning, it also takes away from the poem... you were able to establish a wonderful piece using few words, but it was just a few words.

Elven Blade
the flow of this is wonderful... some of the words are a bit hard to choke through, but they all fit togethor perfectly. With a big vocabulary or a dictionary and some time, this poem has a great organization and a great meaning.

verdict:
Elven Blade for better use of language



wow, that took more time than i thought it would... i hope i did it right...

[Dallas-Dakota]

Thurge: I could have used big words, I could have made it longer. But that would have made the reader think too much. That means too much going on and not enough relaxation.

Eh, guess that means I'm out. Grongrats Elven.

Good luck and have fun to everybody.

[Rutskarn]

...what?

I don't want to sound like I'm being falsely modest, or anything. I am really, seriously, honestly flabbergasted that I made it to the second round.

Thanks for your rulings, guys. I guess let's see if I can pull that off again?

[Elfin]

...what?

I don't want to sound like I'm being falsely modest, or anything. I am really, seriously, honestly flabbergasted that I made it to the second round.


I know what you mean. I really can't believe I made it past round one.
Thanks, judges.

[Vaynor]

Ok since judgments are in the next round can start! I'll put it up tomorrow, I'm rather busy today.

[Gaelbert]

Truemane: I'm actually from California. I just usually insert a "u" into my words, for whatever reason. I think I read too many English authors during my formative stages, and have been addled ever since.

Edit:
Oh, yeah, this is about poetry, innit? Also for Truemane:
I meant for the first stage to be the misconception. The first stanza sets up the typical sort of description of a city. I tried to use cliches and overused phrases to enhance the sheer ordinariness of it. I tried to write it so the reader would see it and think, "Yes, I've heard that before, I know what he means." With the second stanza I tried to puncture the stereotype. Although rereading it, it sounds like my first stanza wasn't cliche'd enough. I hate it when that happens! :smallwink:

[Alarra]

....

I've never been eliminated before.

Congrats, Rutskarn. :smallsmile:

[truemane]

@Devigod

It's not fear so much, just that I don't want to come across as negative or be responsible for discouraging someone. However, poetry is the must subjective of literary forms and so there's always the worry that someone will move themselves into space where no criticism can reach. "That image is supposed to be vague." "The rhythm is supposed to be choppy just there. That was the point." With a little persistence you can defend anything in poetry as being part of your primary purpose.

But most of the IP participants are really good about seeing criticism for what it is: the chance to improve.

I'm not sure how your punctuation works in your other works, if it's excessive or whatever, but I think that it really would have helped this particular piece. Especially because the language was so convoluted.

All in all, I'm looking forward to seeing more from you.


@Thurge Namor

Fair enough. If that's how you speak I can dig that. But this mythical girl with the 'birthmark'? Is it how she speaks too? And this is the different between realism and verisimilitude. You can do something or say something and it BE real but not FEEL real. The two are related but different and it's important to know when to go with one and when the other.

On a slightly less abstract theoretical note, at the very least the two portions of the poem, being two different speakers, should have two distinct voices. So that the diction and the tone of voice is part of what you're saying.


@DD

I'm not recommending it be longer. I completely get what you were doing and I applaud the effort and the thought. It's just that, as I said, if your whole poem is five sense-images, then they need to be clean and clear and strong. I know time is always a factor, but not once did you actually give us something that you saw, heard, felt, smelled, touched.

What does this cabin smell like? What does it sound like? Look like (or lack thereof). The more specific you can be in what it is that your senses tell you, then we can extrapolate why it is it's different here than everywhere else.

But it was a valid idea and a valiant effort. Just because this one didn't work doesn't mean the next one won't.


@Alarra

Thank you. I'm happy you find my insights useful. I'm always worried I'm rattling around inside my head and not making any sense.


@coolgaelbert

I got that. First stanza misconception, second stanza truth. And I did think that the opening stanza was pretty clichéd but I didn't say anything because it sounded petty to me in light of the rest of the critique.

My trouble was that the images in the opening stanza are valid images. They are, for lack of a better word, true. They're not value judgments or philosophical notions, they're sense-images. And, as far as that goes, they aren't misconceptions. They're real.

And so the rest of the piece didn't feel right. And that's what I was saying about context and perspective. If you could have indicated some idea of who it is that feels this way then we could have attached the notions to that guy and, in so doing, they would have acquired meaning by association.

[The Extinguisher]

Truename:

I'm not particularly proud of the piece. I feel I rushed it and in trying to hard to get my point across, missed the target. But thanks for the advice and the critique (I am terrible at titles). It's always nice to be told how and why you suck, and how to get better. :smallbiggrin: I'll give myself more time to finish next round. I've found the time to do some warm up poetry, which will help.

Also, the caves are these (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allegory_of_the_Cave) caves, just for the record.

[thurge namor]

@truemane

very true, very true... i completely understand my folly. Thank you for the wonderful critiques

[Elvaris]

truemane:
Any time I start getting down on my writing, I'm just going to reread that judgment. I do feel like the way I need to improve is to get out of my comfort zone, but every so often it feels good to (insert metaphor for doing a comfortable thing here).
So thank you for the very kind words. Considering my first thought on opening one of your entries in these contests is usually "Damn, I wish I could write like that," it means a lot. At least, the entries that haven't been "yoinked"...


Thurge:
I agree that the chorus/verse transitions were a bit awkward, but I'm not sure that I could "fix" it even if I wanted to. Other than that, I'm glad you liked it.

[Vaynor]

Gah it will be another day. I just had the most homework I've ever had in my life. I'm over 5 hours into it and still not done. Apologies. It will definitely be up by tomorrow.

[Elfin]

No problem at all.

[Vaynor]

Congratulations to:
Elvaris
Devigod
Firebirdflying
Extinguisher
Rutskarn
Coolgaelbert
Elven Blade
Heroic

ROUND II:
Devigod vs. Rutskarn: Piracy
Coolgaelbert vs. Firebirdflying: Quell
Elven Blade vs. Extinguisher: Nervous
Elvaris vs. Heroic: March

Remember, you can use any denotation or connotation associated with these words.

Deadline: 11:59 pm (EST) Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009.

[AJWB]

Bonus points for anyone who does a poem about quelling a nervous pirate march.

:smalltongue:

Good luck, poets! Try and be finished before NaNo! :smallsmile:

[The Extinguisher]

Bonus points for anyone who does a poem about quelling a nervous pirate march.


The pirates marched on
Eyes towards shoes, stuttering
Stopping them? Easy.


...

What?:smalltongue:

[Devigod]

Alas, it seems that this will be my last round in the competition...

At least I'll go down knowing I was pitted against one of the best.

Here's to the journey, happy writing!

[Rutskarn]

Question: if my entry for Piracy is a little more silly and lighthearted (but still written well and evocative), will that bias the judging?

[Zeb The Troll]

Probably, but whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is dependant on the judge. :smallcool:

[Rutskarn]

I really meant more, "are you guys gonna hate on teh funnay," then, "will it just be so hilarious that you'll immediately give me the prize."

[Zeb The Troll]

I knew what you meant. And I meant what I said. Whether it's good or bad will depend on the judge. Some judges are less keen on humorous entries, some will give bonus points, so long as it's still well done. In general, however, I'd say that the way you characterized what you have in mind will not be ill received. You aren't likely to be in any danger from even the less humored judges unless it's over the top wacky (like the Iron Author story that featured a light saber wielding t-rex :smalleek:). Heck, even then it wouldn't be cast aside by anyone, just potentially less well received. Even a haha-hater will vote for the well done jest piece over a poorly done straight piece.

In short, no, you're not likely to see anyone hate on teh funneh.

[truemane]

Point of fact, Elvaris does very well in these contests with teh funnehs.

Zeb is correct in that well put together poetry will win over less-well put together poetry. But in the semi-finals and in the finals, I would say that if there are two pieces, one humourous and one not, both equally well-written, the serious one will usually take it.

But in round two? Run with it. See where it goes.

[AJWB]

Poetry will be judged by its merit as a poem. Anything from limericks to the Illiad is fine in my book.

Bottom line? Take your inspiration and run with it.

[Rutskarn]

Here the poem is. I have finished it. I don't know if it's what you're looking for, or if it's really IP material, but screw it, it was fun and unlike my last poem I actually like it.

Here you go.



Jacques the Monkey

I know a shanty older than the scum in the cook-pot
That’ll freeze your marrow solid and may kill you on the spot
They say that it is fierce enough to set men’s beards aflame
And if perchance it do, then I will tell you who’s to blame:

Jacques the Magic Monkey, known as Jacky to his mates
The fiercest old man-Jack to ever sail the boiling straits
A vile, vicious bastard who would kill you for a coin
Who’d slit your throat wide open soon as kick you in the groin

Some say he was a Rhesus in some old menagerie
A fluffy pampered primate imprisoned in gay Paris
Who one day got his dirty hands upon some dry Descartes
Whose phrase “Cogito Ergo Sum” did touch his monkey heart

Yet others say he was a passenger aboard a ship
Whose fortunes took a dive when their supplies began to dip
And when his status went from honored pet to haute cuisine
He had to scrap and scramble, and he became smart and mean

And finally, there’s whispers of a witch’s vile curse
Which offered him a choice between a Howler and a hearse
But when he was entombed within his fresh-made monkey frame
He made that old witch wish like hell that she had made him tame

Whatever the true story is, the rest is known to all
He rustled up a crew from some decaying urban sprawl
A band of blind old codgers with various leprosies
(the only ones who’d serve a pirate captain thick with fleas)

At first, he started small, upon a ship built just for two
Which he absolutely filled up with his rotting stumbling crew
Who floated aimlessly throughout the boiling summer day
Then crashed into the shoreline of some glitt’ring sunny bay

And there they found a paradise that shimmered in the dawn
A gleaming silver cove to which all worldly good was drawn
There was no war, no currency, and naught to fight about
Where they had never heard of plague, of famine, or of drought

The island had nothing to steal, and nobody to fight
And villagers who urged the tired crew to stay the night
And so, Jacques and his pirate crew relaxed a little bit
And had a feast of harvest beer and oxen on a spit

And so they lived their lives in peace for many suns and moons
Until, one day, Jacques found the chief was hoarding three doubloons
The cheerful music stopped with an ear-splitting record scratch
The chieftain’s head was severed by an angry cutlass slash

The crewmen heard the chieftain’s head land with a meaty smack
And so they drew their blades to join the captain’s bold attack
They cut down three-odd villagers for every errant swing
As well as five-odd crewmen—not too bad, considering

It was over in a minute, yet it seemed to last all day
Limbs and brains a-flyin’ in a frothy, bloody spray
And when the deed was done, they found a newer, bigger craft
That flew over the waves, and flashed forth at the slightest draft

And so they hit the waves and sailed away without a thought
Assuming, since they isle was secret, they would not be caught
They didn’t know the Ocean Queen, a-fuming from afar
Often took her margaritas at the isle’s tiki bar

Deprived of joy and alcohol, so full of rage and storm
The Ocean Queen reached down to crush their vessel like a worm
She smacked it like a newborn, sending lepers to and fro
And skewered it with lightning till the seas began to glow

Jacques knew, thanks to his monkey senses, it had hit the fan
Nobody had to tell him what he needed was a plan
Or soon a monkey mist would settle over all the land
And that would be the end of Jacky’s singing monkey band

So Jacky rolled his sleeves up, or at least rolled up his fur
He felt his fear began to slip and rage begin to stir
He cocked his flintlock pistol, then he bared his teeth and roared
And as the Queen reached back to strike, he leapt out overboard

He swam like any ten hells you could name were at his back
He swam as he heard lighting flare and polished timbers crack
He swam away and heard his lepers scream their tortured last
He swam, and dove, and floundered, and he bugged out lightning fast

Despite the simple cunning of this firecracker scheme
The Ocean Queen then spotted him and gave a joyous scream
And bellowed, “I will turn your mortal coil into ash!”
Which is the godly way of saying, “Let’s take out the trash!”

The sky began to sparkle with a the fiercest kind of storm
The water ‘round Jacques’ nethers started to get very warm
The Ocean Queen plucked Jacques up from the roiling, churning waves
Whose red and crashing masses were a hundred lepers’ graves

She pulled him to the firmament, and held him in the air
And fixed him with a godly brand of bowel-churning stare
And so he had to face the fact that he was doomed to die
Accept the freezing comfort that whatever else, he’d tried

And then, a tiny thought did bubble up inside his head
A bubble that he popped out of a knee-jerk sort of dread
But then he brought it up again, that sickly little thought
And then he had another one: “I mean…just, hey, why not?”

And so he took a deep, dark breath, and raised his flintlock high
And fired it at that white face that glared down from the sky
And then there was a moment that did hover for a year
And every cell went rigid with a nameless sort of fear

Bam.

The Ocean Queen’s pearl-like eyes spun and froze in place
A look of stunned amazement began to spread over her face
For the truth was that the gods were mortal, just like you and I
And nobody could kill them just cos nobody would try

Jacques was swallowed up by air and suddenly was free
And celebrated with a shriek of barely-curtailed glee.
And did a monkey dance of almost disbelieving joy
And hit the ocean, breaking every single bone in his body and killing him instantly

His body was tossed to and fro, and swallowed by the tide
And nobody would know of how he lived, or killed, or died
Had not a single leper by the name of Old Maurice
Survived to live his final days in isolated peace

He didn’t say a word until his final, dying day
He had his family drag his cot onto the village quay
Where he wrote seven paper copies of this little tale
And to the seven continents, he sent them all by mail

Thanks to that vile monkey, now, the gods are all polite
And should they even toe the line, they step back, all contrite
The atheist need never fear a case of static shock
For he could take that god out with a halfbrick in a sock

The moral of our little tale is really passing clear:
You don’t know until you try, so swallow up your fear
And I guess use lepers as crew, their pay grade can’t be beat
Although you have to make them pick up bits of their own meat

Oh, and water’s hard as steel when dropping from a fall,
Okay, maybe this little tale has no moral at all
And now my story’s done, so go and rest your little head
Sweet dreams, bedbugs, etcetera, now get your arse to bed

[Vaynor]

Unfortunately, this poem exceeds the limit listed in the rules. Normally you'd need to change it, but I think restricting your imagination is silly, so instead I'm extending the maximum word length to 1500 words. I think anything over that is simply too long for this contest.

For sake of comparison, this poem is sitting at 1,291 words.

[Rutskarn]

Oh, seriously, this is over the limit? If Devigod thinks it's unfair, I'll dial it back. I honestly forgot to check.

[The Extinguisher]

I think this is the first time I've ever seen a poem go over the limit. Haha.

Also, here's my entry.

Prompt: Nervous
"I've never eaten insects"

I am haunted
by butterflies
in my stomach
when I think of you

Despite that I've
never eaten
any insects
of any kind
I am scared of
caterpillars
that try and stop me
to speak my mind

I am sorry
for what was said
blame the insects
in my body
but it won't matter
because I'll never
send this letter
the bugs won't let me
talk
to you

[Vaynor]

I think this is the first time I've ever seen a poem go over the limit. Haha.

Yeah, honestly the limit wasn't ever supposed to be reached.

[Devigod]

No worries about the limit, I only hope I can get my piece into a workable state by the deadline...

I've been completely swamped by theater and schoolwork; Sunday was the first day I wasn't at theater until well past 5, I got 3 hours of sleep last night and just got home at 9:40 (about an hour and a half ago for me).

If the deadline is going to be somewhat strict, I can understand that and try to get what I have up soon, but would it be possible to ask for another day or two?

[Zeb The Troll]

@Devigod - Each contestant has one "day pass" that can be used during the competition. This gives a one time extension of 24 hours past the deadline to get your work in. It's intended for situations just like this where unexpected real life issues come up. As of right now, none of the current contestants have used their extra day. I hope that answers your question.

[AJWB]

I think the limit is more for the sanity of the judges. That Illiad comment was somewhat of a joke, Ruts :smalltongue:

[Rutskarn]

I think the limit is more for the sanity of the judges. That Illiad comment was somewhat of a joke, Ruts :smalltongue:

Yeah, on the one hand, you said you were good with funny ones, and on the other hand, you said you were good with bizarre long-ass epics about unheroic, unlikeable characters and petty gods. So I figured I'd compromise between the two.

[truemane]

Could you spoiler that bad boy, please Rutskarn? I like hitting my poems cold and if I scroll past it every day I'm going to wind up reading it.

And I think the Day Pass for Iron Poet is only 12 hours.

[Rutskarn]

Done. I've gone ahead and put the safety on that there gun.

[Elfin]

Here we are.
It's a little dark, and really not very good at all, but I hope it works.

FIRING SQUAD
Prompt: Nervous

The man
Is standing up against the wall.
His long
Dark trench coat
Draped over his long body,
A blindfold,
Torn roughly from white canvas,
Knotted,
Tied across his eyes.
Even here
I can see his clammy fingers
Grasping the brick wall.
Even here,
I can see
His mind
Racing, straining,
Wondering
How it came to this.
And I wonder
If he sees me thinking the same thing.
I wonder
How I got here,
Shined and polished shoes
Grasping cobbled stones
Crisp and creased
Uniform
Gripping steaming skin.
I look at him again,
See his slick fists
Pummeling the grimy wall,
Somehow hoping,
Hoping against hope,
That he can still escape.
But I know,
And he knows,
That it will not be.

Shoot.

The iron order echoes
Through my pounding ears
Blood boils
Rages through my veins
My leaden fingers
Clasp
The polished barrel
Of my gun.
For a moment
It seems I cannot follow through
But then I see:
Too late now to turn back
I chose my path many worlds ago.
So I curl
My sweaty digits round the oiled trigger
Drown out the screams and grind my gritted teeth.

And pull.

[FirebirdFlying]

Yay! Many thanks to the judges, esp. thurge namor. :smallsmile:

Unrest

The demon-cursed are rising through our lands and through our hearts
They will take what must be given - so each man must do his part!
Strike them down! Make them learn that they are nothing.

The demons they are coming to destroy what must be kept
They will tell you they are victims, and each one of them has wept
Strike them down! They are liars, they are nothing.

The demons walked among us once upon a fearful time
So we locked them in their prisons, but those steep walls they have climbed
Strike them down! Crush them this time 'round to nothing.

The demons they are cursed, and you can tell each one on sight
Eighteen fingers, blind from birth; every monster has a blight
Strike them down! It is mercy; they are nothing.

They were docile, they were gentle, they would never rise again
But a one was born among them, like an avatar of sin
And some say that he is monstrous, the most terrible to see,
But the ones who've seen him say that he could pass for you or me…

The demon-cursed are rising; do not listen to the men
Who come back and claim the demons are more merciful than them
Strike them down! They are traitors; they are nothing.

The demons they are coming; any fool must plainly know
We must crush them, we must kill them or their army will but grow
Strike them down! They are nothing! They are nothing!

…This probably fits better to March than to Quell, but hey…
It's sort of vaguely connected to my first poem. Hmmm.

[Elvaris]

Prompt: March


Training

Neatly trimmed grass
That defines the word green
Stands never having known the snow
Still bowing necks in other climes.

A miniature park, a replica jewel,
Where grown men pretend to be boys,
(Though some don't have to pretend,)
And play the game of summer.

And while it may not be their time,
There is still a thrill
When the man shouts,
"Play ball!"

[Devigod]

Got a really lucky break tonight. Here goes.

Prompt: PiracyOne man struggles meekly, another almost dead.
The one in front there stumbles, a bullet strikes his head.
We’re on a boat, but not afloat,
Our moral code but more remote.

These men are shot in dirty skims.
In jumping waters, losing limbs.
Know nothing of the pirate ways,
They’re shot like flies in salty bays.
On Africa’s this ring of strife;
No food to eat nor way of life
And so to darkly boats they tread,
And day by day seas swell with dead.

In better lands are pictures made,
So glorified the man betrayed.
With stolen air we make our drive;
We eat and hear whilst some survive.

Pistols, cannons, 47.
Terror strikes and runs to heaven,
But is there valor, or just fear?
Morals flit and strike the sphere.
In waves in webs and in our heads,
On lighted screens and meager threads,
Ideas do light and set to flight
To suicidal children knight.

They shed the sails for motor boats,
They bomb their homes and slit their throats,
And hope to gain their angel wings
For giving up on earthly things.

Why do plunderers exist,
and why does evil so persist?
The Portuguese at Indie’s Straits,
The offices of Heav’n’s gates?
The terror ridden motor wail,
The torrent screens of massive scale,
And Belgian beggars of the sea?
The thing’s the same, philosophy.
Acquire what it is they seek:
Through brawn, take that which from the meek
Feeds selfishness and brings in stride
Not discipline, but unmasked pride.
Trade health of mortal and Sublime
For wealth to gild their lying rhyme.
And toped it all by pinioned flag
Of death’s dark grin so set to drag.
With tricks or hugely numbered crew,
Make wealth on revels seldom true.
The pirate here and there the priest,
Some hackerware and free released,
And steal a bard or silver screen,
And see reflected in its sheen
Commercial wealth and simple health,
A tv ad or passing fad,
They take consumer’s minds by stealth.
Bombard with waves to drive you mad.

So where did all the glory go?
It picked and left with wind to blow.
But yet the days of eld do stand,
In legends great and epics grand.

These storybooks and movie scenes,
And fantasies or troubled dreams,
With pictures play out still the same.
Impious men of ill-got fame.
They cut the seas and drive the air,
On waters true, exchange unfair.
A portrait swept with standing sails,
And jolly men with waving hails?
Or have they grubby, soiled frats?
Skull boned these and tri-corn hats?
Nobles wronged or, rotting ghouls?
Rapscallions, or well kept fools?
A scourge of seas with code and blade,
And beards on many colored thread,
With hooks for hands or patched eyes?
With empty grins and silver lies?
Drink grog and grog and grog some more:
We plunder here, there land ashore.

So bury this and sing a long!
A shanty with a bit o’ song!
And o’er this ‘ere brightly sea,
We go to where there's gold to be.
A pirate's lot, a pirate's life,
a pirate's life for me..

A merry lot, a sorry lot,
A stealing, cheating, fighting lot,
we’re seldom trusted, rarely bought,
a pirate's life for me..

And o’er shining, naked sea,
below the wailing moon..
a pirate's lot, to live life free
a pirate's life for me..

I said a pirate's life for me…

Away away, oh go away
The gold takes all men in its eye
Away away, we’re only prey
We live the lies and ere we fly
For what’s the use of erred lying?
Arrogantly just denying?
We live to cheat and take and screw
Are people but a pirate crew?

We’re on a boat, but not afloat,
Humanity but more remote.

Spoilered comments below so that judges who don't want to see them don't have to until later.I really tried going out of my comfort zone with this piece, rest assured that most of the changes in scheme serve at least one purpose, if only to make one pause or build gravity. I will admit that I feel more time would have been to the piece's advantage, but I kind of like the romantic idea of its spontaneity that adds truth to it, even if it's more than just a little angsty.

[Gaelbert]

Here's my dilemma. I left my only copy of my poem in my locker at school. The locker halls are completely locked up, and I won't be able to get to them until tomorrow morning. However, once I get to them I won't be able to reach a computer until 3 in the afternoon (7 pm EST).
So, if the day pass is 12 hours, then I suppose I will have to forfeit this match. It is highly unlikely this forfeiture would change the result of my match, based on the quality of FirebirdFlying's work.
If the pass is 24 hours, then I will be able to type it up before the deadline.
I'm very sorry about this.

[Devigod]

Dude... I doubt that if you can manage to post by 3, your opponent will still want it deemed illegitimate, especially seeing as you have posted your dilemma here ahead of time rather than just posting your piece late.

Maybe that's just my two cp though. I know rules are important, but I don't think that everybody here is an iron-hearted stop-watching bureaucrat.

[Gaelbert]

It might actually be 3:30.

[Vaynor]

The day pass is indeed 12 hours. However, I will leave this up to your opponent. If they decide to let you submit your entry even though it is late, I don't have a problem with it. You would have to use your pass if you wish to submit it though.

Edit: Just a thought, even if you are unable to submit your poem in time, you should still submit it as soon as possible. That is, if you wish to receive criticism.

[FirebirdFlying]

Submit it!

…Why would I not want you to? Especially if I have the choice, it would be rather, well, :smallyuk: of me to tell you you can't just so I could get a free pass or whatever.

Plus, I'm really curious as to how you interpreted quell. 'Cause that word caused me a lot of trouble.

:smallbiggrin:

[Vaynor]

Plus, I'm really curious as to how you interpreted quell. 'Cause that word caused me a lot of trouble.

That's the idea. :smallbiggrin:

[Gaelbert]

My apologies for this whole conundrum.

Topic: Quell
FirebirdFlying vs. Coolgaelbert

Round two... Fight!

Mother, Mother!
There were pirates in my sleep.
I dreamt of scurvy bilge rats
scouring the seas.

Hush my child, hush.
Do not be afraid.
These things you see can harm you not,
do not be afraid.

Mother, Mother!
I fell and scraped my knee.
I tripped and fell in marching band,
my blood fell on the leaves.

Hush my child, hush.
You do not need to cry.
A kiss will take your pain to flight,
you do not need to cry.

Mother, Mother! I have a test today.
I need to learn my ABC's-
May luck hold as it may.

Hush my child, hush.
You have no need to fret.
These troubles will not last a day away,
you have no need to fret.

Thank you mother for these words,
that you so kindly speak.
You have quelled my fears and anxieties.
I think I'll go to...



Sleep well, my son.

[truemane]

Deliberations underway, folks. I'm hoping to have them all up and done by the end of the week.

[thurge namor]

I just gotta do Rutskarn and Devigod (dear god, so many words!) and then I'll post my judgments :smallsmile:

[Elfin]

Great. Can't wait for some input.

[Rutskarn]

Remember, kids, every time you post in a thread that's awaiting judges, you send tremors of false hope through everyone involved. So stand back and wait, or else Rutskarn will pop every blood vessel in his brain.

It will look like popcorn, except with death.

[Alarra]

If we end up missing judges again, let me know and I can step in.

[thurge namor]

JUDGMENT DAY!!!

Devigod vs. Rutskarn: Piracy

rutskarn:

Ok, well to save space I'm only commenting on stanza’s I have stuff to say about. If I say nothing about a stanza it means I like it, but have nothing to say…
Stanza 2: the fourth line is a bit out of rhythm with the rest.
Stanza 4: first line is a bit short and choppy for the flow of the rest of the poem. Last line, perhaps rewrite to say “He had to scrap and scramble and become quite smart and mean.” Rereading that now I dunno if that’s right, but the beginning and ending of that line seem separated somehow.
Stanza 5: first line seems too short. Should be easy to fix with an adjective on the witch. “And finally, there’s whispers of a [green] witch’s vile curse” or something to that effect.
Stanza 8: last two lines, sort of a stretch to rhyme about with drought…
Stanza 9: seems a bit choppy, may need some rephrasing
Stanza 10: another stretched rhyme. Scratch and slash…
Stanza 13: if the isle is a secret, why does the Ocean Queen take margaritas at the isle’s tiki bar?
Stanza 14: and now I realize that you meant the Ocean Queen to be like a god. At first I thought you meant she was a ship…
Stanza 18: bahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!
Stanza 24: bahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!! Again… I like it, a lot!
Last 2 stanzas: bahahahahahahaha!!!!!! For the third time. Great job with the poem!

Devigod:

Stanza 1: intriguing start to a poem. Sorta pulls you in and latches you on for the ride. I don’t understand the last line (“Our moral code but more remote.”) I don’t see what the “but” is talking about, nor where the moral code comes in…
Stanza 2: Third line, perhaps you mean “Knowing”? Other than that, it just pumps up the level of the poem a bit. Good job.
Stanza 3: my one thought here was “is this becoming a poem about morality?”
Stanza 4: not sure where the number 47 came from… second line, (“terror strikes and runs to heaven”) do you mean that the terror kills people and sends them to heaven or that terror strikes and follows them to heaven or what? Might use some rephrasing. I really want to like the end of this stanza cause it sounds like it has a lot of meaning, if only I could fine that meaning. First of all, 4th line. What sphere are the morals striking? Do you mean the earth? I think that the next three lines make sense, but the second to last line is kinda iffy. “Ideas to light and set to flight” I really feel like I should understand it, but alas, I do not. “To suicidal children knight.” Say what? Perhaps I just don’t understand, or maybe this could use some rephrasing.
Stanza 5: love this. It just works.
Stanza 6: And so we come to the point of the poem… I like the rhyming. Last four lines, the scheme breaks. If you start a stanza one way, best to finish it out that way.
Stanza 7: Like the stanza, like the meaning (sounds a bit clichéd, but only a bit) one thing, “eld” is not a word. I understand the meaning, but still…
Stanza 8: Once again, love the rhyme. This shifts into the piraty pirate part of the poem… I like it. Almost had an old Shakespearean feel to it, I really want to pronounce “patched” with an accent on the e. With hooks for hands or patchéd eyes? Haha
Stanza 9- the end: good way to rap it up and connect it back to the rest of the poem
Overall a very solid poem

Verdict:

Rutskarn


Coolgaelbert vs. Firebirdflying: Quell

Firebirdflying:

First thing I notices when I was scanning down the poem was that every stanza but the 5th stanza started out with something about demons… this one breaks the original form. Might wanna rewrite that somehow to create consistency… Very original use of prompt. I like it. Some of the flow is a bit off, but looking at the overall tone (it sounds like a man talking to his men about to go to war, like a pep talk) it kinda makes sense. “But the ones who’ve seen him say that he could pass for you or me” just like your last poem, I want to know more about the story behind the poem… it sorta draws you in.
Coolgaelbert

I like the dialogue between the mother and son, might want to reorder it though. Marching band and then tests on ABC’s? The rhyme scheme works well though, I'm normally not a fan of rhyming because if its not done right it distracts the reader, but you did it well here. Good job!
Verdict:

Firebirdflying


Elven Blade vs. Extinguisher: Nervous

The Extinguisher

Stanza one: it starts off kinda clichéd. Word choice is good, haunted by butterflies just sounds right.
Stanza two: this is where the sort of overused topic becomes original. “I’ve never eaten any insects of any kind.” You might want to rephrase the last two lines (“that try and stop me to speak my mind”) I don’t think the word “to” really works there and it throws off the meaning.
Stanza three: the first lines sorta contradict the beginning of the poem. At the beginning the insects stop him from speaking, but these lines say that they make him say things he is sorry for. The very last lines make the choppy format you chose work. For the beginning it seems as if its just breaking up the flow, and then the last lines (“the bugs wont let me/talk/to you”) seems to have the most impact because of the broken format.
Overall it’s a good poem, the idea may be a bit overused, but you made it original.

Elvinblade:

You chose the right flow to write this in. Its sort of jumpy and choppy and doesn’t really flow, which works perfectly with the prompt and the subject. It shows the chaos of the scene, though the physical scene is actually quite smooth and serene (if you look past the firing squad) but the soldiers thoughts and consciousness are crying out. One thing: might wanna put the word Shoot in quotations since it is spoken. Great job with the prompt.
Verdict:

Elvinblade


Elvaris vs. Heroic: March

Elvaris:
I’m guessing you use the prompt as the month…
Let’s do this by stanza:
First stanza: the beginning of the second line (“That defines the word green”) perhaps use a word other than “that”? I'm not sure what word you’d use, maybe which, but “that” has too harsh a feel for the stanza. It may just be me, but I don’t really understand the meaning of the last two lines of this stanza. (“Stands never having known the snow/Still bowing necks in other climes.”) You start off with a statement about the field, then a description that adds to the statement, but the second two lines don’t seem to follow this pattern at all.
Second stanza: I like this stanza a lot. Not much to say bout it.
Third stanza: Not sure what is meant by the first line, and that kinda throws the rest, but I like how it all comes together with the last line.

Heroic:

no entry... =,(

Verdict:

Heroic! jk =P Elvaris, by default

[Devigod]

At thurge namor (some spoilers involved):

Stanza 2: Third line, perhaps you mean “Knowing”? Other than that, it just pumps up the level of the poem a bit. Good job.
Know can indeed be used as a noun verb, although there is a subject lacking if I were to take the line as an independent clause. I kind of like to play with the syntax and put form before absolute grammar.

Stanza 4: not sure where the number 47 came from… second line, (“terror strikes and runs to heaven”) do you mean that the terror kills people and sends them to heaven or that terror strikes and follows them to heaven or what? Might use some rephrasing. I really want to like the end of this stanza cause it sounds like it has a lot of meaning, if only I could fine that meaning. First of all, 4th line. What sphere are the morals striking? Do you mean the earth? I think that the next three lines make sense, but the second to last line is kinda iffy. “Ideas to light and set to flight” I really feel like I should understand it, but alas, I do not. “To suicidal children knight.” Say what? Perhaps I just don’t understand, or maybe this could use some rephrasing.
Indeed, there is quite a bit that probably flew right by. Spoiler.47 denotes the Avtomat Kalashnikova 1947 model, better known as the AK-47.
Terror strikes and runs to heaven are a reference to the worldwide instances of religious martyrdom that often involve suicide bombings.
Much of the rest is a reference to the availability of vast amounts of information (the internet) that spans the globe, and the kinds of idealism that brainwash people into paying with their lives. Not necessarily terror-ideas, but the rates of teen suicide have skyrocketed in our era, and many would point to the connected-disconnected internet as the cause.
Suicidal children knight as the use of child soldiers and such in Africe Africa which is noted as a place of conflict ought to fit in with much of the aforementioned context on more levels too.
Overall, much of the poem mixes the theft of ideas and bombardment as well as insertion of them in our modern culture along with modern 'pirates' (think Somalia) and zealotry. Most of the morals hovering in the spheres relate to the internet in its forms.

Stanza 6: And so we come to the point of the poem… I like the rhyming. Last four lines, the scheme breaks. If you start a stanza one way, best to finish it out that way.
I kind of wanted to leave it in a reverse sonnet form; usually a sonnet consists of quatrains in an ABAB pattern and closes with a couplet and resolution to a problem, while this stanze was composed in couplets but closed with a quatrain, along with a presentation of the real problem. It was mostly a stylistic thing.

Stanza 7: Like the stanza, like the meaning (sounds a bit clichéd, but only a bit) one thing, “eld” is not a word. I understand the meaning, but still…
I know... I just couldn't resist. Advice noted, however. It would be prudent of me to find another word.

Stanza 8: Once again, love the rhyme. This shifts into the piraty pirate part of the poem… I like it. Almost had an old Shakespearean feel to it, I really want to pronounce “patched” with an accent on the e. With hooks for hands or patchéd eyes? Haha
Indeed, the meter would demand such treatment.

Thanks so much for the commentary, I hope you enjoyed the piece, and I apologize right now to anybody who was hoping this post was another set of judgments.

[AJWB]

Crap! Got caught up in Nano and Dragon Age (a dangerous time-destroying combination), I'll have my judgments up by tonight. Hurray having Tuesdays off work.

[AJWB]

Most sincere apologies for my tardiness, poets. If it's any consolation, Nano isn't going well at all for me :smalltongue:

As always, if you would like more in-depth judgments, please feel free to PM me.

Devigod vs Rutskarn: Piracy
Rutskarn
This is a very entertaining poem. It really sucks you in and makes you feel as if you're being sung to. Unfortunately, that may be where the poem falls slightly short. Most of the lines have a wonderful rhythm to them, but they are sometimes followed by lines that don't go with the rhythm set up by previous lines, causing the whole thing to be thrown slightly off kilter every once in a while, which breaks the immersion. For example, the third line in the seventh verse and the fourth line in the sixth verse. There are a few others as well, and it just seems to throw things off.
Devigod
Awesome. Pretty much everything a poem should be. Its got flow, imagery, a great message, and its pulled off with great panache. I checked out your spoiler so I could offer you any more insight, and I have to say that I whole-heartedly approve of the scheme changes, as they do exactly what you intended them to do.
Verdict
Devigod


Coolgaelbert vs. Firebirdflying: Quell
Coolgaelbert
I like it. It's very cute and sweet, but something about it just seems odd. The child is allegedly learning his ABC's, but knows words like 'quelled' and 'scurvy bilge rats?' Simpler language would have made everything in this poem pop a lot better. As it is now, it sends mixed signals.
Firebirdflying
I'll admit, I've been playing Dragon Age recently and this poem is certainly something I can relate to right now. The idea of an enemy you cannot name, that deceives you at every turn, that makes your own men fight against you, that could be around every corner. This poem instills that sort of feeling, and I have to say I like it a lot.
Verdict
FirebirdFlying


Elven Blade vs. Extinguisher: Nervous
Elven Blade
How dare you say this poem isn't very good at all. I usually don't enjoy poems that do the stilty lines thing, but this really works. It makes the moment seem hectic, yet it seems to crawl as well, like those moments when adrenaline takes over and the world moves in slow-mo. I like this poem a lot. Mad props for making me like a style of poetry I normally do not like.
Extinguisher
Some poems are really easy to relate to because they touch something that everyone has dealt with at some time. I really like this poem as well because its simplicity and charm lends itself so well to the interpretation you took of the prompt.
Verdict
Elvenblade


Elvaris vs. Heroic: March
Elvaris
It's certainly got the simple Elvaris charm that I've come to expect from your poems, but something about it just isn't clicking with me. While I do not mind short poems like this, it feels like something is still missing from it, like there's substance within that's dying to get out, but it didn't get the opportunity this time around. A fine poem, it just feels incomplete to me.
No entry :(
Elvaris

[Gaelbert]

Contratulations and thanks to FirebirdFlying. I knew this was a froegone conclusion after I saw who I was paired with. And many thanks to the judges.

[The Extinguisher]

Congrats Elvenblade. Entering late and kicking all of our butts :smallbiggrin:

Thanks thurge namor and AJWB for the critique. It was very helpful (and I'm looking forward to truename's judgments as well).

Hopefully I'll do better next Iron Poet. These things always tend to give me a burst of creativity.

[Elfin]

Many thanks to all the judges.
Extinguisher, it was an honor to be paired with you. :smallsmile:

[Rutskarn]

Trumane, I'm really not rushing you--take whatever time you need--but do you want another judge to step in? Personal life happens, and if you've got a lot on your plate I'm sure somebody could step in.

[truemane]

I'm having a very busy November, guys. And so I'm sorrier than I usually am. And this all might be a day late and a dollar short, but here it is. I'll do my best to be better next round. Also, I typed these very quickly, so please forgive any errors.

ROUND II:

Devigod vs. Rutskarn: Piracy


Untitled
by Devigod

This was much better than your Round One entry. That piece was quite good, but in this one your narrative is much clearer and cleaner and the language pushes the story forward instead of getting in its way. There are a few places where you lose your phrases but overall it flows and moves and grooves much better.

I especially enjoyed the way you shifted theme from pirates to modern-day and then wrapped it all up with your final statement. The shifts were organic and smooth and I found myself half-way into them before I knew they'd even happened.

I wish I had more to say. I could go through it line by line and point out this minor flaw or that, but I'm not into nitpicking. I think you assembled all the pieces and made them all dance and sing.

Excellent work Devigod.


Jacques the Monkey
by Rutskarn

That was a lot of fun. I'll admit it. I even started in on it with a self-righteous grump-on due to the word count thing, but I finished smiling. Which, assuming there's no deeply hidden obscure message here, was exactly your point.

And as such, I don't have a lot to say about it. It is what it is, and it is effective and skillful and as well-done as it can be. Which isn't to put it down or denigrate it. Quite the opposite. This sort of thing is difficult to do and not everyone has the technical expertise to do it.

My only criticism is the rhythm. You chose Anapestic, which is the perfect choice for the material, I think. And the pentameter gives you these wonderfully long lines so you have time to get out longer thoughts before taking a breath and moving on. But the rhythm is SO uneven that it's distracting. Especially a piece with this kind of sing-song flow. The rhythm really needs to be so tight and so perfect that it becomes invisible. And it isn't.

But that's it. This was good times. Thank you.


Verdict

Devigod. This was an interesting pair, with both poets being prone to longer, more technically demanding works. Devigod's was just more complete and matched form and content more organically.



Coolgaelbert vs. Firebirdflying: Quell


Untitled
by coolgaelbert

I applaud the effort. Sometimes pieces of life-affirming innocence and hope can be the hardest thing. It's so easy to tip over the edge and dip into sentimentality and self-parody. So it was a valiant try.

But... not a success I'm sorry to say.

Two issues, really.

The first is the voice of the piece. It's all the same even though there are two distinct and very different speakers. And I don't think that either one would talk like that in particular. And certainly both of them wouldn't.

That might sound like I'm being hopelessly semantic, but it's an important point, and one often missed in poetry where the central thesis and metaphor often takes precedence of things like character and narrative and story. But those other things need to be present as well.

Because once you establish who these people are that are talking, then you'll have a better idea of what to have them say. And I (the reader) will get a better sense of who they are and the resulting poetry will be sharper and more precise and more universal.

But that being said... as a parent, I liked this one anyway.


Unrest
by Firebirdflying

I'm really sorry about this, Firebirdflying. I wrote you a critique and then managed to save over the text file with the original poem and it's lost. I don't have the time or the energy to re-write it right now. I'll see if I can piece it back together sometime in the next few days. Please forgive me.


Verdict

Firebirdflying. Despite my (as yet unstated) reservations, the piece showed greater control over the language.





Elven Blade vs. Extinguisher: Nervous

Firing Squad
by elvenblade

Very nice. Really, really nice. Good idea. Well executed. Good follow-through. I don't have a whole pile of stuff to say. Nitpicks and some notes for further refinement, mostly.

The man
Is standing up against the wall.

You don't need to tell us it's a man if you just use the word 'he' in your initial image. That allows you to cut out the place holder line 'The man...' And you don't have to tell us he's standing at the wall, show us. Tell what he's doing there and include the wall bit in the image (start with the clammy hands on the brick wall, for example, that says all I need to know) and that allows you to jump start the poem with action as opposed to filler.

His long
Dark trench coat
Draped over his long body,

You say long twice. And what's a 'long body' anyway? You could find a more evocative/indicative descriptor for this guy, I'm sure. As one of the two principals in the piece, it's better if I know some things about him. So you're better off picking a feature or expression or trait that you can show in a concrete way that reveals something about him.

The other thing is the pace of the piece. It sounds a lot like your previous entry. That sort of stop-start poem thing that most people do. Image, word, image, word, pause, move forward. I think that works with this piece because the speaker is a soldier and a disciplined man and is having an internal monologue. But be aware of how the flow and pace of the language influences the way the poem sounds and how it can reveal things about the speaker without you having to waste words saying them. This is especially true for first-person pieces because we're hearing his thoughts.

But overall, good stuff, Elvenblade.


I've never eaten insects
The Extinguisher

That was really cute. I don't think cute was quite what you were aiming for, but I'm not trying to be dismissive or condescending. What you're missing here is YOU. The narrator. The speaker. I get the metaphor. We've all been there. Being afraid to talk to a cute girl/boy/indeterminate is so universal that you don't even have to spend any time telling us what it feels like. anyone over the age of ten knows what it feels like.

So what I wanted to see here was something about the experience that makes it unique, or individual, an angle or a slant or something that makes it more than just stating the metaphor over and over again.

I think what you might have done was crawl inside the head of the speaker a little farther (the speaker might be you, or might not be) and tell me more about what he feels. Exactly. Use the five senses. Show us what he sees, how it makes him feel, what he smells, how it makes him feel. Use the extended insect analogy, it works, but a little more detail and sense of perspective could really have made this work.

As it is, it's not bad. It's cute. But it falls short of the disturbingly creepy I think you were aiming for.


Verdict

Elvenblade.




Elvaris vs. Heroic: March


Training
by Elvaris

I really appreciate the stones that it takes for you to walk so far out of your comfort zone. I really do. And this is about as far outside of it as I've ever seen you go. And I can feel your love for the game and for the time of year that the game occupies but the love is behind the words and sort of around the words and not really IN the words.

There's no one way to write poetry, obviously. The only thing that separates poetry from prose in any absolute fashion is that the poet decides where a line of poetry ends and the typesetter decides where a line of prose ends. Everything else is only a tendency. A matter of degree.

But one thing that works a lot of the time (and especially when you're aiming for a sort of montage of imagery like this) is sensual information. What does it look, feel, taste, smell, sound like? try to find the one (or two, or three or fifty-eight) thing that SUMS UP THE EXPERIENCE and shove it into one (or two or five) of the senses. Shove really HARD if you have to. It doesn't always work. Lots of poets (Plath, Wordsworth) have made careers out of abstract musings, but you'll find, I think, that the results will be immediate and visceral and clear in a way they weren't before.

For example:

Neatly trimmed grass
The defines the word green

I get neatly trimmed grass. But 'defines the word green'? I can't put that in a mental image. Try to find something else that's as green as that grass (or something else that's the grass is as green as, if you get me) and show me THAT. Even if it doesn't make any sense. Even if it's stupid. So long as it's rooted in one or more of the five senses, it'll hook me into the picture inside your head.

A miniature park, a replica jewel,
Where grown men pretend to be boys,
(Though some don't have to pretend,)
And play the game of summer.

Miniature park, replica jewel. Okay. Better. More concrete. But what kind of park? You're better off giving me one specific detail that sums up the park for you (smell of hot dogs, grease stains on the concrete, blue plastic chairs) and hit that as hard as you can and let it stand for the rest.

Where grown men pretend to be boys. I can get that, but again, give me the ONE thing that they do to pretend and give me THAT, and let it stand for the rest.

This isn't bad, Elvaris. It's pretty good. And again, I think I can sense what it was you were looking for. But I can sense your lack of confidence here and it makes the images dull and flat instead of sharp and pointed.

This one was a misfire, I think, but please don't let that dissuade you from trying it again. If you want to improve your writing, I would highly recommend that you give this one another try, as an object lesson in writing and re-writing and working through a kind of verse outside your natural talents.

I'd even be happy to read anything you come up with.


Heroic

No entry


Verdict

Elvaris.

[Rutskarn]

Congratulations, Devigod!

Apparently, contrary to what every movie has told us, doubting yourself is the key to victory in this competition. At every turn, predict your inglorious defeat, and you may yet gain victory!

[Devigod]

Congratulations, Devigod!

Apparently, contrary to what every movie has told us, doubting yourself is the key to victory in this competition. At every turn, predict your inglorious defeat, and you may yet gain victory!

Thanks, Rutskarn. For the record, I really loved your piece, and I'm pretty sure I'll probably read it a few more times when I need the giggles in the future. I feel kinda weird about underestimating myself, then again, if you can convince yourself, you can convince your foes, and perhaps that is the way to truly deceive them. As I recall, you were unhappy with your first round piece, right? I got off lucky last round so I'm glad my competition for this one was so fierce. Hope to see you at the next IP; I know that I, for one, plan to either judge or compete there again.

Thank you too to all the judges who took their time to not only read but analyze and critique our pieces. I love poetry, and every opportunity for criticism and even just commentary is always appreciated.

Let's get to dem semis!

[Elfin]

Thanks a bunch for the comments, Truemane.
The feedback really helps a lot, and I'll definitely be thinking about your critique next round.

[Zeb The Troll]

Okay, folks. Vaynor has asked me to get the semifinals rolling since he'll be without internet for a few days. Sorry it took me so long to get this started, but, you know, holidays. :smallcool:

Now, since this is the semifinals, we're going to step it up a bit. Random imagery added for a second prompt to be used in the story.

ROUND III

Devigod vs. Elvenblade
Word Prompt: Visitation
Visual Prompt:
http://ic2.pbase.com/g1/40/903440/2/110121209.RnepuJgS.jpg
FirebirdFlying vs. Elvaris
Word Prompt: Heroine
Visual Prompt:
http://ic2.pbase.com/g1/04/714204/2/103110698.QyBbH2JF.jpg

Deadline for this round is Friday, December 4th, at 11:59pm Eastern Standard Time (that's GMT -5 for all of you non-US readers).

Good luck to all of the contestants!

[PhoeKun]

Okay, folks. Vaynor has asked me to get the semifinals rolling since he'll be without internet for a few days. Sorry it took me so long to get this started, but, you know, holidays. :smallcool:

Now, since this is the semifinals, we're going to step it up a bit. Random imagery added for a second prompt to be used in the story.

ROUND III

Devigod vs. Elvenblade
Word Prompt: Visitation
Visual Prompt:
http://ic2.pbase.com/g1/40/903440/2/110121209.RnepuJgS.jpg
FirebirdFlying vs. Elvaris
Word Prompt: Heroine
Visual Prompt:
http://ic2.pbase.com/g1/04/714204/2/103110698.QyBbH2JF.jpg

Deadline for this round is Friday, December 4th, at 11:59pm Eastern Standard Time (that's GMT -5 for all of you non-US readers).

Good luck to all of the contestants!

Oh, wow. Those are beautiful prompts... I can't wait to see what comes from this!

[Devigod]

Before I leap into my work, did you perchance reverse the pics on those two prompts, or is the visitation cue a picture of a maiden with the heroine cue a picture of a door?

Or are the cue pictures supposed to be unrelated to the word prompts?

[PhoeKun]

Before I leap into my work, did you perchance reverse the pics on those two prompts, or is the visitation cue a picture of a maiden with the heroine cue a picture of a door?

Or are the cue pictures supposed to be unrelated to the word prompts?

As always, both word and picture are randomly generated. Incorporate both into the poem.

This time, it just weirdly worked out that each picture prompt fits perfectly with the opposite word prompt. So, if you switched them, there'd be no added challenge. How boring would that be? Very boring, I say.

[Zeb The Troll]

As always, both word and picture are randomly generated. Incorporate both into the poem.

This time, it just weirdly worked out that each picture prompt fits perfectly with the opposite word prompt. So, if you switched them, there'd be no added challenge. How boring would that be? Very boring, I say.This, exactly. Actually, until Alarra just pointed it out to me, I didn't even realize the picture prompts would work well on the opposite word prompts.

And yes, I used a random word generator and a random picture generator. I'll admit that I didn't just grab the first of either that came up and skipped over stuff that was either too esoteric (I would never make anyone write a poem about "nomenclature" for example) or not visually striking enough to inspire something (i.e. I skipped over several family picnic photos before finding the lady by the tree).

I hope you guys have a good time with these. I think the potential here, from you guys, is darned good and I can't wait to read what you do with them.

[AJWB]

Ooo, I am really looking forward to this round. Good luck, poets!

[truemane]

And aside from the prompts (which are indeed excellent, great work Zeb), I'm excited by the pairings. Devigod's tightly structured metric lines matched against Elvenblade's verse, looser but careful controlled in tone? Firebirdflying's free-wheeling, almost unhinged surrealist style matched up against Elvaris' artfully constructed slice-of-life whistful realism?

I can't remember ever being as ramped up for a semi-final round as I am for this.

If I wasn't already a judge I'd be buying tickets.

[PhoeKun]

Speaking of which, do you know anyone who can hook a girl up? I'm stuck paying fifty bucks for the nosebleed section. I can't even see the poets from up here... so not fair.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Pssst, psst, over here.
One of the poets which was out first round whispers to Phoe.

[PhoeKun]

Pssst, psst, over here.
One of the poets which was out first round whispers to Phoe.

Well, hey. Before you get too down on yourself, remember that we were originally meant to be opponents in this very contest. You handed in an entry, and I did not. So from where I'm sitting, you're the more accomplished of the two of us right now.

Besides which, losing in the first round is not usually a sign of inadequacy as it is of a strong opponent. I am regularly knocked out of these contests in the first round, and rumor has it that I'm supposedly pretty good at this whole writing thing. :smallwink:

Speaking of which, I'm really chomping at the bit to get my next chance to actually compete. I can't remember the last time I was so charged up for this stuff, but it's a really neat tingly feeling.

[Dallas-Dakota]

Thenksies.:smallsmile:

And yeah, you are a pretty good writer as far as I've seen.

We could do a face-off, but we'd probably have to do it without the amazing judges and their wow-ing reviews. v.v

[thurge namor]

O.o fight, fight, fight!!!

i want in on this action =P

[PhoeKun]

O.o fight, fight, fight!!!

i want in on this action =P

Wha.... wait. Really?

I don't... huh?

[Dallas-Dakota]

All I suggested was a friendly face-off...o.0....

[PhoeKun]

All I suggested was a friendly face-off...o.0....

Which, for the record, I would totally be up for, but I have no idea how everyone else feels about it, what with the potential for extra work or the stealing of some small amount of thunder from the actual contestants. Or, you know, prompt selection...

[truemane]

I guess, if someone wanted to be responsible for it, we could start a new thread specifically for one-time single match-ups. First post contains the current matches and people sign up to compete or judge. The match-ups could be any genre, any mood, any medium, anything the contestants decide.

We could even do it like the Workshop thread. You have to judge two or three contests before you can sign up to compete in one. That way everyone is guaranteed to have at least four critiques.

Declare winners and keep score somewhere?

[Dallas-Dakota]

I'd rather not use the Writing Workshop method, since I am rather horrible at judging poems. One of the major reasons why I never visit that place.

[truemane]

That's reasonably fair, I suppose. Although you could quite validly make the point that getting better at critiquing (whatever) is just as valid an activity as getting better at writing (whatever). And so you saying that you don't want to do it because you're bad it would be like me saying I don't want to enter Iron Author because I'm a lousy writer. If I said that, you would respond (quite validly): the whole point of playing is to get better.

But I see your point all the same. Maybe we'd just have to have a waiting period. Or just establish a general non-specific 'no spamming' rule. Whoever decided to be in charge of the thing (or that particular contest because each contest could be overseen by someone different) would make the call.

Unless of course we have LOTS of people constantly signing up for writing and judging. Then it wouldn't be an issue.

[PhoeKun]

I'm certainly willing to do both. They're very valuable skills, and I'm quite out of practice.

[Zeb The Troll]

Hmmm, I'm picturing an "Iron Poet: Head To Head" thread, a la all of the CSI/L&O/Supermodel/Dancing/Cooking shows out there. :smallcool:

[Dallas-Dakota]

Everybody goes head to head.

Every round 1/2th of the contestants are eliminated.

Till there's a final showdown.

[truemane]

I'm thinking that what we do is that we have the thread, lay down some ground rules, and then I guess what happens is that every head-to-head needs the following:

Two writers
Three judges (at least)
One moderator (who could be a judge) - assigns the prompt, mediates time0frames, etc

So, five people. And clearly you can write/judge/moderate as many contests as you wish.

And then the thread would just be a series of gauntlets thrown, challenges accepted, and people commiting to judge and moderate. Someone needs to be in charge of posting the rules and using the 1st Post to keep track of running contests and win/losses and the like.

It sounds like a blast, actually. Like a lean, mean version of the Iron Contests.

EDIT: And it doesn't have to be just poetry. Since they're mini contests, they can be anything. I could challenge someone to a short story writing Duel. Someone else could make an open challenge for poetry.

I could, for example, say "Anyone want to duel a sci-fi story with me?" Or anything else like that.

[Dallas-Dakota]

That sounds pretty dang awesome.

The moderator* idea needs to be hmmm.
Idea one:
1. A first post keeper, who updates the first post, etc.
Possibly reminds people of the rules???
2. Moderator*: First poster keeper+ gives out prompts/+ mediates.(obviously not when being a contestant her/himself.

Timeframes would be decided by the challenger/challengee themselves, FPK** or moderator*


* I want to reserve that actual title for the forum moderators...
*First Post Keeper

[truemane]

Clearly someone needs to take overall responsibility for the thing, if for no other reason than to keep up the first post so everyone knows what the heck is going on. We can call that person the OP, since everyone knows what that means.

I agree on not using the term Moderator. Referee could work.

And what I'm saying is that anyone could be a Referee for any number of Duels. It might go like this.

1. Gauntlet is thrown. truemane says, "I'm thinking I'd like to write some historical romance. Anyone want to to duel with me?"

2. Gauntlet is picked up. DD, thinking that sounds cool, says, "Yeah, sounds great. Let's do it."

3. We ask for a Referee and/or Judges. People volunteer to do one or both.

4. Referee posts the Duel, prompts, any duel-specific rules, time-frames, etc. All in the same thread. Or else it'll just get messy.

5. OP updates the first post to include the Duel as an on-going contest, along with participants and due-dates.

6. Writers write, post. Judges judge, post. Referee declares winner. Winner wins, gloats.

7. OP updates the first post, notes the contest complete and who the winner is.

The fun part would be that any number of these can be happening at any given time. It'd be a gigantic chaotic mess. And I love gigantic chaotic messes. They make me smile.