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Competitive Dash – April 2012

Published on Sunday, April 29, 2012 by

The Competitive Dash, an adjunct to the Daily Writers’ Dash, uses anonymous peer review through an online poll to find the most outstanding poem, flash piece or short story. The winning piece is then displayed in the Winners Wall of Fame.

The competition is open to all ages and nationalities, although entries must be written in English.

The winner will receive L$5,000 (Second Life® currency) or a $20 Amazon gift voucher and publication on the website on our Winners Wall of Fame.

Deadline for submissions is midnight (PST) on the 1st of March, June, September and December. We accept only 4 entries per person.

Public vote begins midnight (PST) on the 4th and ends midnight of the 30th. Winners will be notified by the 3rd of the following month.

Writer retains copyright, however, we reserve the right to republish winning work, whole or in part, in future electronic and/or print editions or anthologies.

Send your submissions to andrea@virtualwritersinc.com.

Please read our general submission guidelines here.

To vote read the poems below and scroll down to the vote box at the end of this post.

The Competitive and Daily Dashes are set predominantly in Second Life®, however, anyone can participate. Look out for our Daily Dash prompts on Twitter and Facebook.

THE POEMS

Earth

earth
is timid
in all things
she needs relief
from mortal wounds
from the din of hammers
and escaping waves of ice
we hardly notice that her voice
has been muted and her arms taken
unconscious of her condition
stripped of her jewels and her mirth
she once was a dancer
perfect in timing
colored with blush
bold and strong
in her
charge

©2012 Ginger Jorgental

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Labyrinth (1)

Find me, please.
Come through a field of corn
…find me welcoming and adorned.
If I knew you were coming
I would not be so bored,
trapped inside here where penetrates light,
a window of sky amidst corners of steel –
steel girders and high panes of glass,
cement pylons and smokers ash
tunnels and asphalt trails,
patches of grass,
benches where no one sits
and no one dares to ask,
cold hills and balconies,
storefronts and strangers pleas –
a labyrinth of orderly conduct
and the resolute frailty of beggars.
Find me standing
with a pocket full of change
on a corner where a bus stops
as has been prearranged,
glancing into faces
with no glimmer of remorse,
and none any better
for knowing the course.

©2012 Ginger Jorgental

******************************************************

The Calliope Machine

When Tawny was a girl she pined for the carnival –
for that one day at the zoo, when everything was new,
for the cotton candy, sunshine and hats
for whistles, hot dogs and pats on the head,
bobbing around the canary cage of entertainment
on the lookout for the bright red calliope machine.
She spied it, stared at the engine, envious of its noise,
of the rush of air, the production of joyful song
and she sat, braced with full rapt attention
to the endearing thing, to everything it said,
full of love…
And all it gave to her was sound.
Reams upon reams of whistles.
High pitched merriment.
Her head turned as if for the first time seeing joy,
spellbound.
She stayed by the calliope’s side and patted it,
gave it a name and called it friend.
Her head, turned like a heliotrope to the sun,
all eyes glinting in the direction of
a machine who knew what it was
to spread love
to a girl who would never know anything of.

©2012 Ginger Jorgental

******************************************************

Bells

I wish I could sing like a bell,
with all the colors of the rainbow sounding
and in unison with others.
I wish I could ring out from the top of a hill
and pour down onto others,
with all the good grace above.
I would sing like the bell
of time and sorrow and place
and of all of the shelters in the heart
where goodness dwells in harbor.
I wish I was polished and curved
for tonality and long life,
and made of silver too.
To bring comfort in the face of strife,
I would prolong each note
and bend to the hand
that touched me.

©2012 Ginger Jorgental

******************************************************

Blink

Not only will I be back in a blink
Not only can I blink back the brightness
of the sun
Not only can I blink away the dust
from a wind storm

or the sleep from my eyes

but  I can send you messages,
reveal my thoughts

No – not just 1 blink for yes
and 2 for no
I can blink complicated, amorous
thoughts of love and lust
so adept at the language of flutters
am I

I can look at you
from across the table
head bent slightly
but eyes raised

and blink
and blink
and blink

You don’t have a clue
as to this expertise of mine,
this ability…
do you?

I transmit thoughts
using my Morse code of love
And you thought they were your own,
didn’t you?

You … silly … man

©2012 Bonnie Diggs

******************************************************

Labyrinth (2)

Oh my God
what a confusing relationship
we have had
Agree?

The intricate
corn mazes of Kansas
the scary labryinth
of The Shining,
the hedge maze
at Longleat, England
are NOTHING
compared to our confusion

Tell me
How on earth have we managed?
Because we have,
haven’t we?

We have made it
from one end to the other
Wait – we lingered inside
We made love there ….

Not mice
Not children
Us
You and I

©2012 Bonnie Diggs

******************************************************

Frailty

Yeah OK,
Let me try that on for size
Let me be weak and delicate
for a day

Fragile?
Easily broken?

Yuck,
that hurts

Wait
Let me try that on for size
Let me exhibit moral weakness
for a day

Uncaring?
Mean?

Hmmm,
that feels kind of OK
I can deal with this……

OK I am a frail piece of shit!
But,
I love me!

©2012 Bonnie Diggs

******************************************************

Centrifuge

Centrifugal force …
that which separates
cream from milk?
Who said that? Harriet? Ginger?

Nope …
it is that which separates
my morals
from the good Bonnie

You, dear man,
are a centrifuge to me
You tear away my ownership
of me from me

You put me,
an object – a simple avi
into rotation about
my fixed axis …

And we all know what that is

You, dear man,
are a centrifuge to me
Your delicious voice
robs me of my mind

You put me,
an object – a real life female
into rotation about
my fixed axis …

Same answer as above

You
come close to me
and I fall apart
into a zillion squishy pieces

Somewhere along the way
my heart separated from me
along with the rest of my
vital juices

Did you do that?

©2012 Bonnie Diggs

******************************************************

Dance

The moonlight dances
On the waves
The boat dances
Through the silvery sea

As the clouds dance
Across the starlit sky
My heart dances in joy
Just being with you

The shepherd’s tune dances
And floats across to us
Our spirits dance in unison
In celebration of being

©2012 Moonlight Summerwind

******************************************************

Storms

I’ve grown to love the storms.

They are so real

and full of the excitement

that I feel

when gazing out my window

at the snow

or walking where

the dins of winter blow.

I used to love the sun

in days gone by,

when I was seventeen and shy,

and reached to pluck

the blossoms from the bough.

But, oh, it is the storms

that lure me now,

storms that,

from the summit high,

flash their messages

across the sky

and down the canyon,

roaring through the night,

color all the waiting world in white.

I used to think that

when I’d gotten old,

I’d build up many fires

against the cold.

But I was wrong;

there’s nothing warm

can thrill me

like a storm.

©2012 Uldene Bravin

******************************************************

Winner!!! Barren

The rain fell on the desert
the lizard ran cross the barren ground
ready to catch the first drops of water—
on his tongue, on his back, on his tail,
his dream of blooming cactus and the nectar
was vivid in his little heart, ready for spring
and the coming of fresh insects to nibble,
cool rocks to languish upon,
and lively youngsters to chase round and round,
the desert he loved was not barren at all,
it held the mystery and magic of a life that few got to see,
the lizard scurried toward the coming shower
saw lightening in the distance and heard thunder,
his head lifted, alert in the humid air,
his tail wagging in a happy and deliberate fashion,
it was spring in the desert and not barren at all.

©2012 Luna Elinda Branwen

******************************************************

Taciturn

Taciturn and withholding
he broods a panache coolness,
proud of how held in check
he keeps himself distant,
his little-boy-lost looks,
on his handsome face,
inscrutable and clearly calculated
with more thought than he would ever admit to,
“hidden agenda” is all he is hiding,
his heart he forgot about
a long time ago.

©2012 Luna Elinda Branwen

******************************************************

Solipsism and Fog

The fog is all around me, I sit  pondering the word “solipsism”
and how I came to a world filled with it: an absorption with self,
the details of which are animated in tricked-out avatars that leave me to ponder  Buddha and the nature of humans and how we find ourselves in the throes of self expression, creative and healing one minute,
indulgent of our desires in the next, filled with the mystery of how we got here,  and what it takes to communicate in words, without body language, within the confines of our minds, caught up in a notion that it is only we who exist in a universe larger even than Second Life, and round the corner from any city harbor and marina calling in the fog to mask our dimensions of self and find our way through to Light and Love, the layers of fog cooling our fevered egos, free now from the notion that we are all that is.

©2012 Luna Elinda Branwen

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