# February Challenge: "Words"



## Chesters Daughter (Feb 1, 2015)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by PiP is: *Words*

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.

We are continuing to allow optional anonymity this month. You may post your entries yourself, or, if you'd like to remain anonymous, you may PM your entry to me, *Chester's Daughter.* If you are posting anonymously, please indicate in your PM which board, public or workshop, you desire your entry posted on.

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. 

As usual, if you'd wish to protect your first rights, post your entry in the *workshop thread,* *and post a link to it in this thread. Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualified.

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

Now that the 'like" function is again blessing us with its presence, we respectfully request that you refrain from using it until this thread has been closed and the poll has been opened.

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


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## toddm (Feb 2, 2015)

*Grandmother recalls our dear cousin Kate*

How often, in the cool of the morning,
when serene gold was upon the world,
I saw you out on the wild heathlands
which seemed for you alone unfurled.
 
With bright and youthful eyes you gazed
across that endless range of fells - 
endless, at least, they had seemed to you -
and bethought to yourself so many tales.

But no words you wrote while on the moors,
too rapt, no doubt, to wield the pen - 
but returning into the house at noon,
your furious writing would then begin.

All through dinnertime, hardly partaking
of the fine victuals cook had prepared,
you filled the pages over with words,
but with none of us would these be shared.

And closing the papers, you then would smile
and full brighten up as if all the skies
inside your mind were swept of clouds
by warm and fragrant springtime sighs.

Oh! what delightful talks we had
once your tongue was then set free;
your brown eyes sparkled with lovely fire,
your laughter brought such joy to me.

But alas! your liveliness would not live long;
it was a decade ago this past September
when consumption robbed poor Rushton Manse,
and took away its fairest member.

You were nearly fifteen, my dear sweet Kate -
you'd have been twenty-five this coming year -
and yet, on some mornings, through yonder window,
upon the moors I see your form appear.

I know ‘tis but a trick of shadow and sun,
and the habits of these weary eyes,
still used to seeing you wandering there,
under the bright and boundless skies.

But we have the memories, and portraits made,
and especially the stories you wrote down then,
so filled with joy, which we often read
and, in reading, see your smiling face again.


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## Gumby (Feb 4, 2015)

*The Word Today is "Stoned"*


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## Phase (Feb 5, 2015)

*He's a Gun*

Bullets burst out of his soul.
His lip’s the barrel that’s seizing control.
It hits me, leaving no physical mark.
But peek at my heart and you’ll see that it's dark.

Sightless blood oozed from my mental vein,
But he continued to shoot until I shrieked in pain. 
I couldn't take it I began to run.
I never thought he'd be a loaded gun.


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## Pidgeon84 (Feb 5, 2015)

Voices in the Night

I’m so scared
I’m not where I’m supposed to be
The words of hollow voices echo
as they bounce off empty space
I look for the path
once lit by my heart’s desire

The light faded long ago
Now I wander through the dark
wondering where my dreams lay
Do they call?
Do they cry?
It’s all drowned out
by shallow guidance

I look to the stars
to lead me home
I will find my way
by the direction
of the falling rain
Somewhere my hope
lights up the horizon

So please
call on my sweet dreams
my heart longs for your voice
to see the clouds lit ablaze
by your hopeful glow
Sing through the night
Sing unto the sunrise

I will search
I will find you
I will go without rest
Until I lay in your arms
In your warmest embrace


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## rcallaci (Feb 6, 2015)

*WORDS*

WORDS​
*W*ithout words to facilitate thought and articulate ideas; we would still be living in caves grunting and moaning our way to oblivion; while staring at empty faces and eating rotted meat 

*O*r instead of choosing extinction; we could create a new language devoid of those wordy hurdy burly words, and learn to chirp, tweet; whistle and sing like songbirds and nightingales, and maybe even learn to fly 

*R*eading and writing would no longer be required; for the sounds of our chirp’s beeps and tweets, would be music to our ears, and that is all that our little brains would require; while we scurry around in our nests, regurgitating our food into the mouths of our young

*D*reams and Reality will no longer have their own line of demarcation: for without words to define, catalog, and describe the difference between the two; our minds would wander and get trapped in the psychosis of tweetism and our spirits would flitter away like feathers in the wind  

*S*cientists of futures past have stated that a Wordless Armageddon would be the ruin of society:That flying bird people chip chip chirping away in search of sticks and worms; would not be conducive to a thriving civilization. Man would rather eat steaks, than seed.  Without words: it would also be impossible for you to read this diatribe of muddled rationality while profusely cursing the idiot who dared to write this drivel of oddly odd nonsense filled with big words tiny words small words foolish words funny words delectable words and words of any kind- that juicy worm looks quite delicious…


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## Carousel (Feb 6, 2015)

Words


Words that we use to enlighten, enthuse
To express and impress our desires
Enshrined in lines with metaphors and rhymes
Which we strain to move and inspire
~
Word pictures and scenes, recalling our dreams
Confessions and expressions of the mind
Gyrate and rotate as we struggle to create
Poetry artistically defined
~
Memories recalled of lovers who enthralled
Are captured in the rhythm of verse
With images real, muted, surreal
We seek to share and converse
~
Those that deduce poetry should be obtuse
Suppressed from the reader’s eye
Is it they fear to be specific and clear
In my ignorance I wonder, why?​


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## TJ1985 (Feb 7, 2015)

*Your Vile Venom.*

 From day one you owned my heart
you beckoned and I followed 
of the venom you just spewed 
how much of it was swallowed

Did it blister your slender throat
the way it seared my skin
or did your scaly flesh 
just shed it off again

Are you immune to your own poison 
or is it's venom just for me 
do cobras live in fear of it 
can there be immunity

Words are their own hazards 
the acids that we throw
we give—but dread the day 
we feel that stinging blow 

Your day will be coming soon
so slither on back home 
you'll meet a snake who has 
venom to call your own

His poison will surely torture you 
with scalding acid and with hate
look to your past and see
how you have earned that painful fate​


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## Firemajic (Feb 8, 2015)

*Walls of Stone*

*Your words can't breach my battlements
I've built them out of stone
a peaceful place to retreat
where I can heal alone

Each stone I have carefully placed
one monolith at a time
a fortress unassailable 
constructed in my mind

Your tender words of comfort
only add to my pain
I need to hide behind these wall
or I will go insane

I can't stand your whispered word
they are deafening to my ears
I need a place of solitude
to cry my secret tears

In vain you've tried to reach me
but I deserve to be alone
and every time you say you love me
I place another stone

I wish I could escape to you
but my walls can not be assailed
what once was my hiding place
has now became my cell*


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## aj47 (Feb 9, 2015)

Let There Be Words

words create worlds
some say this world
is the word of god

god became man
as men became gods
crafting new worlds

each in his own image
words made real
alternate truths


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## Boofy (Feb 9, 2015)

*Prosaic latitudes*

Platitudes,
prosaic latitudes,
a string of words
floating in the ether,
the dark matter
that doesn't matter,
insipid attitudes,

Plat, the French,
a path to lassitude,
language that baffles,
superfluous,
language that bores,
forgettable,
many... or a multitude?

Words,
reveal ineptitude,
whether you
prevaricate or evade,
are languorous or lazy,
could you write them down
with certitude?

So what is it to be?
Unless you opt for solitude,
there's Mengele-esque butchery
and wishy-washy rot.
Pretention or banality?
No? Then you should craft your own,
an exclusive amplitude.


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## Crowley K. Jarvis (Feb 9, 2015)

*Word, word, word...*

Say any word about ten times
it just might be your bane.

Say it ten more times
And you just might go insane!

Yes, repeat a word enough
And you will surely find
That it's no longer a word
Only letters in your mind.


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## Fats Velvet (Feb 9, 2015)

frankenlanguage


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## Chesters Daughter (Feb 9, 2015)

*It All Began with a Pictogram (Strong Language)*

When not spoken by asses
sporting rose-hued glasses
there's a chance
they may move masses.

Duos mimicking glue
can make one of two
as long as no one objects
to saps who think they do.

Baby's first is awaited
by pairs who have mated
armed with video cam hands;
their joint breath ever bated.

They're arranged single file
and stretch on for miles
just to suit a scribbler's
adopted style.

They monopolize bees
seal deals on one knee
and when properly placed
immortalize trees.

From the mouths of fools
they lose status as tools
and make suspect debuts
in insufferable pools.

They can be full of shit
and worth less than spit
or so say recipients
of unwelcome crit.

No soul can refute
that without them we're mute;
praise worthy are roots
and their add-ons to boot.

While peers feared them cursed,
we existing coevals
are indebted to the first
who side-by-side nursed
an urgent thirst

to be heard

and thus invented
the very first word.

Could we go back in time
odds are good we would find
our premiere syllable
was most likely

"mine!"


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## am_hammy (Feb 10, 2015)

*He Said. She Said (Possible suggestive themes/language)*

He Said. She said(possible suggestive themes/language)


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## Nellie (Feb 10, 2015)

*Simply Said*

*
*A voice clamored in my head
words of wisdom I had read;
"If you tell the truth", said Mark Twain
"you don't have to remember anything."

Accused of hypocrisy
I'm armored with an apology
no mincing of my words
I don't know what you heard.

I told you what I recall
this is true, that is all
simply said, "I'm sorry and I love you."
will these words carry us through?


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## TKent (Feb 10, 2015)

Three Words

I don't need the fragrance 
a bouquet would bring
or the glittering sparkle
of a new diamond ring.
I'd feel weird wearing shoes
that cost more than two figures
and you'll never convince me
that better means bigger.

If you want to impress me
just three words will do.
They start with an _I_
and end with _love you_.


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## Terry D (Feb 14, 2015)

Only humans lie...
Using words as snow to kill
the fresh blooms of trust.


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## qwertyportne (Feb 15, 2015)

*Words
*
Words--
I love 'em!

Would do anything for 'em:
buy 'em ice cream,
send 'em to Maui,
arrange conjugal visits
with their prefixes and suffixes.

Words--
I love 'em!


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## Gargh (Feb 15, 2015)

Sticks and stones, words and bones


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## Chesters Daughter (Feb 15, 2015)

This challenge is now closed.


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