December Challenge: "Bells"

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  1. #1

    December Challenge: "Bells"

    AS PREVIOUSLY ANNOUNCED, IF YOU ENTER THE CHALLENGE, YOU MUST CAST AT LEAST ONE VOTE IN THE POLL. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN YOUR ENTRY BEING DISQUALIFIED.

    The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by Darkkin is: Bells

    You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board. Please note that all entries are eligible to receive critique in the voting thread.

    The inclusion of explanatory text or links of any kind within an entrant's challenge entry is prohibited and will be immediately removed upon discovery. As always, only one entry per member is permitted.

    As previously announced, anonymous entries have been abolished, therefore, entrants must post their own entries in this thread, or if you desire to protect first rights, please post your entry in the secure thread, and then post a link to it here in the public thread. Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualified, so if you require assistance with the task, please PM me, and I will gladly help you.

    If your entry contains strong language or mature content, please include a disclaimer in your title.

    Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you submit. You have a TEN MINUTE GRACE PERIOD to edit your piece, but anything edited after that will likely see your entry excluded from the challenge.

    Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussion related to the challenge can take place in the Bards' Bistro.

    Everyone may now use the "Like" function whenever they so choose.



    This challenge will close on the 15th of December at 7pm EST.





  2. #2

    and on the seventh day HE rested

    Roused
    by a sonorous reminder
    that Jesus is alive
    and that the hour
    is exactly five.

    I drag myself to the sill
    to spy the sky
    for yet another
    seventh day sunrise.

    Blessed be those bells
    easily heard on high.


  3. #3
    Battle's End

    The last of all the bodies peaceful slept.
    Awash in morning light the battle end.
    The ink still yet to forge in mournful pen,
    The sorrows sacrificed for honor kept.

    Awash the field the bitter wind that swept,
    And carry plumes of death of son and friend.
    Wary soldiers with malice now suspend
    A birth anew with difficult accept.

    A dulcet tone aloft the breeze did ring,
    The proclamation sings of life anew.
    The clearest bells of steeples framed with glass,
    Flourish 'tween the trenches taking wing.

    The tolling bells arise in pitch and grew,
    A forging hymn to set in stone the past.
    Hidden Content Hidden Content Hidden Content

    "He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot." - Douglas Adams


  4. #4

  5. #5

    Reverberations


    ​Signal to begin
    Means not to race but to stop
    the mind relaxes
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

    "Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools will speak to say something." Plato

    "The only difference between reality and fiction is that fiction needs to be credible."
    ​ Mark Twain

    "To those of you who received honors, awards and distinctions, I say well done. And to the C students, I say you, too, can be president of the United States." George W. Bush



  6. #6

    The Bells of Hebden Bridge

    The bells were ringing in the town;
    the call came late; the moon shone bright
    behind a thin and ragged cloud.
    She fell asleep on her bed linens
    strewn with pears and apples
    gathered in the waning twilight;
    willows also, and marigolds.
    The cotton-grass was shuddering;
    her dreams were fragile and fierce.
    The fire was not forgotten; it was a secret
    hidden in the hand. The fireflies of summer
    were kept in jars through the winter months
    until they became dust and ashes.
    She was aloft beside a soaring cathedral;
    the great bells were a cataclysm
    of dissonant grandeur; the ravens
    melted into the shadow-painted sky.
    Down along the narrow streets she purchased
    worthless trinkets, broken gears inside a broken man
    trampled underfoot, dearly bought
    but soon forgotten. There are no words,
    she whispered in the damp air.
    The street was bright; the rain had settled into the stones;
    the night was cold; the windows of her face
    were shuttered with white hands.
    Once upon a weary time, said she.
    The night believed whatever her heart spoke,
    every beating word: the heartbeat footsteps,
    the rattle of death-knells. The sky was painted black;
    the stricken moonlight could not pierce the clouds.
    She stirred and awakened on her bed linens.
    The wind was in the mounding heather.
    The small birds did not sing, they brought no joy,
    they flew away into the heart-broken holy stars.
    But she was lost amid shadows and shambles,
    and the bells were ringing no more.

  7. #7
    There is no life I know
    To compare with pure imagination.
    Living there you’ll be free
    If you truly wish to be.~ Willy Wonka

  8. #8
    Diminished

    I was the one.
    I taught the cat to ring a bell for food.
    It pleased me to hear that familiar clang
    and know that he was waiting there.

    Eager to show
    the trick he had learned and performed so well,
    it pleased me to see the surprise in the eyes
    of friends and family watching there.

    Came the day
    I noticed an imposter in his place,
    a sleek similarity with claws as sharp,
    a shadow version standing there.

    I was the one.
    I taught the cat to ring a bell for food.
    How easily we steal for amusement.
    How eagerly nobility yields to greed.

    Just starting out on the adventure of poetry? Why not join us on
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