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FormFindsFunction contest winners

Journal Entry: Wed May 16, 2012, 6:51 AM

This is the feature of winners and participantsof the "First real contest" by

The contest entries had to be poems written in one of these four forms:
acrostic haiku
glosa
diciotto
sonnet petit

1st place
Death of Cu ChulainnStill your hand holds a sword
Still enemies shiver
Still death didn't take hold
Your blood is a river
Still in your veins it flows
And burns like a fever
But now your brave heart slows
Though standing you remain
Like avaiting more blows
So a hero is slain
Belt keeps you on your feet
Tied to stone with blood-stain
Soon you'll your father meet
After a raven lands
And your heart stops to beat
Though saying farewell to mortal lands
True warrior does not bow, but stands by me!

I guess I don't have to feature something from my gallery, because if you read this journal, you are probably watching me, but I'll feature my other entries for this contest, because I didn't really think this one was the best from them, I'm not that content with it

Little PrinceWait for a time, exactly under the star. Then, if a little man appears who laughs, who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me word that he has come back.
I met a boy. He wanted a sheep.
He gave me the gift of laughing stars.
I promised him I will not weep:
that secret will stay forever ours...
I met a boy. He owned a rose.
She's on his planet - very far.
I watch it every night - he knows...
And so, if you by chance are close
to the place where his footprints are -
Wait for a time, exactly under the star.
Then, if a little man appears who laughs,
who has golden hair
and who refuses to answer questions,
you will know who he is.
Then he will teach you how to see -
with your heart and not with you eyes,
how moody some flowers can be,
and how you should establish ties.
So prepare to be a little tamed,
just like it happened once to me.
And if you cry - he can't be blamed:
that's what comes Dream about wakingNo dreams were hurt during this poem's making
Just illusions laid bare to very bones
No dreams were shattered with the violent waking
Just those that rang with false and selfish tones
Like tree sheds leaves with every coming autumn
So soul will bare before the northern wind
And when false dreams fall to the very bottom
Then new ones can sprout like the leaves in spring
Illusions are shaking - a dream about waking Sir Gawain and the Green KnightStay true to your word
In the code of chivalry
Ride to meet your fate
E
A
P
I
N
Game of the green knight
At New Year in Green Chapel
Waits beheader's axe
I
L
D
S
E
And peaks of mountains
In search of it you will pass
Nobody will write
O
V
E
L
L
About your journey
Never will you tell, for at
Dawn you will pay your
E
B
To the challenger...
Howering above your neck
Eternal sleep, life's
N
D
I
N
Girdle as token:
Righteous knight is still human
Even you can try
Evade death for honour's price
Now you bear a scar on your
E
C
King welcomes you back
No shame can the ruler find
In deeds of his knight
N
S
P
I
R
I
N
Gallantry and pure
Heart: now all will wear green sash -
Token of

2nd place
from

More from ~135711cal:
Beauty and the BeastBeauty and the Beast

In the days just after Arthur
Lived a maiden passing fair
With a beauty like the lily
And gold dust in her hair.

An the prince who ruled the land
Full of over bearing pride
Sent his knight a questing for her
So that she would be his bride.

It did not take long to find her
For the rumor’s blaring force
Like a river broad and mighty
Can be traced right to it’s source.

And beauty beyond beauty
As you may surmise
Is seen in every aspect;
The lips, the hair, the eyes,

The gently flowing curves,
The turn of hand, and cheek,
In waist, hips, knees, and ankles,
The voice with which they speak.

Per NebulaSwirling clouds of colored gas
left over from the distant past
when planets formed and stars were born
on that far galactic morn'.
Or maybe on the distant past
some star blew off a bunch of gas
and they are star farts

3rd place
Teddy BearTeddy Bear
17-04-12

Together tonight;
Every boy and every girl
Desires a hug.
e
a
Dead to the world, yet
Your child believes I'm alive;
Babies are precious.
a
r
Ending today I
Ask; you ready for tonight?
Ready to believe. by

More from `MagicalJoey:
Concerning DreamsConcerning Dreams
18-04-12

Mind's imagination
Is running free and true.
There's no intermission;

There's only me and you.
Dreams are for all mankind,
Imagination too,

Don't leave your dreams behind
When you've grown up and out;
Fairies flit around shrines,

In dreams to talk about.
We travel to the land
Where all whispers are shouts,

And old Nod lends a hand,
To teach us one and all;
Dreams are for every man.

Dare to imagine who you'll be, or
Be aware your dreams will take the fall. BeautyBeauty
18-04-12

I wished I could be beautiful for you,
But beauty's in the eyes of those who see;
Though to a fault I'm faithful through and through,
I'm not what one could call a frail beauty.
I've eyes of blue, but hair that's bitter brown,
A pallor to my skin the sun can't cure.
My forehead's wrinkled from a worried frown,
I'm like a wobbly elephant, unsure.
I once thought you kind; now you're out of mind. Restoring an Angel
Restoring an Angel
7-01-11

Many Angels and Demons walk the Earth in human form;
I've met more Demons than Angels on my journey,
So I know how to tell them apart…mostly.

You are an Angel.
Right now your wings may be broken and losing feathers,
They may be damaged and dangling useless at your side.
Yet, despite that, your light still shines through;
It's in your eyes, your smile,
Your very character.

Despite your turmoil, torture and pain,
You still have this inner glow that shines clearly;
A beacon of hope in a hopeless world.

One day your wings will be healed;
Feathers will be replaced,
What's broken will be fixed.
They Fairies DanceFairies Dance
23-04-12

"The music is the wind that blows
while fairies spin on bare tiptoes,
and fireflies jewel up the night
reflecting fairies in their light."
(Dancing Fairies (Children):- C.J. Heck)

Flitting in on gossamer wings
That blink underneath the mourning moon,
Dancing as the crickets sing;
Morning sneaks up all too soon.
Watch them flit and flutter by
As the Weeping Willow grows.
See them dance like dragon flies,
Hear twinkles in the dead-night sky;
Prancing in their summer shows -
The music is the wind that blows.

'Round the toadstools they circle, bright,
Waiting for the moon's bright rays.
They'll dance an For a WarriorFor a Warrior
17-04-12

The child born from blood,
And from its mother torn,
Learns, face pressed in the mud,

The pain of being born.
The child that grows up strong,
Will, each and every morn,

Find a place to belong
In this world oh so cruel.
The world can't be so wrong

That mother's milk is fuel
For a nation to war
And a family to duel.

So listen to the caw;
I conquered and then came.
I went through and I saw;

When one must fight through a world of pain,
One will find the strength to fight again.

Honorable Mentions

Pages of a Ruse"On a cobweb afternoon, in a room full of emptiness.
By a freeway, I confess I was lost in the pages.
Of a book full of death, reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good, we'll lay to rest, anywhere we want to go."

Betwixt infinity and limitations lies my longing for answers.
Troublesome dreams haunt me about the living and the dead.
Infinitesimal notions deciphering life's little pleasures.
Dare I dream that maybe living is a figment from my head?
Betwixt the times of loving you and the time I lost to yearning.
You haunted me in ways that dreams never could.
I find myself pacing and my heart racing from learning. Shades of RedCrimson to burgundy:
at your dried blood I stare.
I see dismal beauty.

Tickled by April air,
and your writ will that casts
Cursive vines in despair.

A year quickly flies past,
I drink on, verily;
I've yet to taste my last.

Flame to mahogany:
In my tub's my red slaw.
Still here. Next: good brandy.

Last night again I saw,
you shot again by wild,
she drags your smell by paw.

You had fathered her child,
leaving me with the wild. Glue Worn AwayGracefully fading-
Like a photograph in time,
Uncolored with age
N
D
O
N
Endings resemble
What once were the beginnings:
Ongoing circuit
R
D
E
Reminders linger-
Never to be found, but beg
Always to be known.
S
T
R
E
Wishes with feathers
Anchored by reality
Yearn, but yet, fade

Other participating entries:

Relationship - An Acrostic HaikuReach into your heart
Engaged, I will marry you
Let go of your life
l
a
m
Ask for permission
Try not to fight anymore
Ignore what she said
n
c
o
g
n
i
t
Ordinary night
No, nothing lasts forever
Seems so short, this life
e
l
f
i
s
Have you had enough?
I feel it's time to move on
Please. Don't call me back. One's Own   Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant
   Let the dead Past bury its dead!
   Act, act in the living Present!
   Heart within, and God o'erhead
          [A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]

She stood facing brok'n mirrors
Brok'n up like her core within
Trying to see herself clearer
She wipes off fog with a napkin
They ready-mapped her world for her
She is their 'scape-goat, their pennant
Before it starts it is over
Her dreams burn and ashes scatter
She is a plummeting buoyant
Trust no Future, howe'e The Secret City LoversThe Secret City Lovers

Under the softly dying autumn wings
April leaves fell like tears
the gentle treads of rain bruise
tempering the sky

Crushed pink light fled across the ground
falling on damp cigarettes
echoing their shadows without sound
the press of lips inhaling smoke regrets.
The hushed city sleeps restless
harbouring its lonely heart strings
quiet ghosts of distress
trembling to confess
their melancholy whispered things
unwrapping secrets to the ears of kings.

Passersby stuff their moth-eaten coats with grief
filling their warm pockets with blue gloom
hoping furtively for a light-fingered thief
to deftly lift thos Rush HourRush hour, rushing to you.
Through shadows and strangers.
Wondering if it's true.

Fearing not the dangers.
But longing for your touch.
Asking God for favors.

Drive fast, it's just too much.
It must be in my head.
You know you told me such.

I'm home and there's our bed.
Who is that lying there?
I think you should be dead.

I grab them by the hair.
Why do you cherish strife!?
Your sins he now shall bear.

Such a shame, you were my cherished wife.
You ended my soul, I took your life...

Riversong Journal skin
Artwork by ~SnowSkadi
Design & coding by *Grinmir-stock

17 Comments

Skin by Nobody

FormFindsFunction contest winnersby =MirachRavaia

Journals / Culture / Art Features

*DragonRider3 Jun 5, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

=MirachRavaia Jun 5, 2012 General Artist

Thank you, although I'm not very proud on that poem.

*DragonRider3 Jun 5, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

o.o
What is there not to be proud of? It's =>

P.S. Borrow me some of your talent, and I'll conquer the heavens

=MirachRavaia Jun 6, 2012 General Artist

No, it was written quickly, and I agree with this critique parsat.deviantart.com/critique/636073195/

*DragonRider3 Jun 6, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Hm.. I read it... Thinking about it, there is some sense to it.. But not true as from bible... Maybe I am not suitable to insist, since I do not know much about these rules for writing and am not really quite good poem writer, but for some reason, I still really love this poem... And those last lines, "True warrior does not bow, but stands", is actually my favorite part, despite critics..

*Lirulin-yirth May 21, 2012

Congrats, my friend!

=MirachRavaia May 21, 2012 General Artist

Thank you!

*Lirulin-yirth May 21, 2012

Always welcome!

*jankolas May 16, 2012 Traditional Artist

Gratulujem.

=MirachRavaia May 16, 2012 General Artist

Ďakujem!

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