# January Challenge: "Control"



## Chesters Daughter (Jan 1, 2017)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by jenthepen is: *Control*

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.* 

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 *workshop thread*, and then post a link to it here in the public thread. *Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualifie**d*, 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. 

**We respectfully request that you refrain from using the "Like" function until this thread has been closed and the poll has been opened.
**


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


----------



## rcallaci (Jan 3, 2017)

*Domination*

Domination (Disturbing imagery, Mature subject, language)


Grab that bitch by the throat-
Squeeze hard-
and wait...
until you see the fear
in her eyes-

Only then---
will you have 
complete control-

All her lies 
and filth 
will be washed away- 

Her fate...
is now in your hands-

Tame that 
wild beast
into submission-
We need to feast
on her flesh
and revel in her
despair-

Don’t let me down
my son...
subjugation and humiliation
are all that’s left
in the devil’s troth- 









RC
1/02/17
©Robert F. Callaci All rights reserved.​


----------



## Firemajic (Jan 3, 2017)

*Peace Seeker*

_Let me leave the way I wish
give me this one last gift
let me have some control
may God have mercy on my soul

Let me choose how I want to die
let me decide when to say goodbye
when I am ready I will know
may God have mercy on my soul

For my final sin I am willing to pay
the price for throwing my life away
this is one thing I will control
may God have mercy on my soul

Let me find the peace I seek
from the secrets I dare not speak
just say goodbye and let me go
may God have mercy on my soul

Now the dark has turned to light
I found peace a beautiful sight
I finally have control
and God had mercy on my soul_


----------



## The Fantastical (Jan 4, 2017)

I am in with The Perfect Now. Short I know!


----------



## ArrowInTheBowOfTheLord (Jan 6, 2017)

*Captain in the Army*

March on, march on, soldiers of tin,
in uniforms bright as breath.
Wave your little banners,
Clutch your pretty muskets,
on and on into Death.

“Happiness is the only virtue,”
my mother once told me.
So I penned crooked smiles
on all of their faces,

_March on!_
[FONT=&Verdana]_March on, merry and bright!
_[/FONT]_Blood is our joy,_
_You, all my toys,_
_Will please your captain tonight!_

Sedona, my love, my dear, my doll,
pour us a glass of wine,
A toast to the boys of the 77th,
A toast to everyone
and all that is mine.

“Hold fast to what belongs to you,”
my father once sagely said.
So I gathered a company:
follow me anywhere!

_March on!_
_March on, merry and bright!_
_Blood is our joy,_
_You, all my toys,_
_Will please your captain tonight!_


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Jan 8, 2017)

*Coddling the Warden (Mature Content)*

Deeming me unfit, 
with a flush you offered
my tiny gold shackle
to the sewer rats
years ago,
but the digit still peels
shedding flesh like tears.
What an ingenious way
to brand your prisoner.

Our barred windows
have the housing inspector's 
greedy paw
begging for grease again.
I wonder if you'll remit
or resort to brick
denying me the sunlight
sullied by striped shadow
that assures me 
the world still exists.

Your key violates the padlock
and I jump to attention,
waiting for inspection,
ready to pipe up 
"Prisoner number one
reporting for orders, sir!",
as number two
resumes her shrieking
from the basement.

Just a corner crack whore
incarcerated without a rite;
she's no hope of a gold shackle,
but still bound to wear your brand.
Singing the chorus of Disco Inferno,
you stoke the fire
and then simply stare
until the poker assumes the shades
of an African sunset.

"Bath then dinner!" you bark
before descending the stairs.
I lean upon the wall 
toeing an idle phone jack, 
making a note to dust it
before it results in attack,
when the screams 
of a million demons
come barreling from below
and a hint of singed skin
seasons the breeze.

Shocked into action
I bustle to the bathroom
to entreat the tap to exact
the perfect temperature,
then hustle to the kitchen
to guard the roast.
Bloody rare is a must
or I'll be treated 
to another piercing
by a needle dressed in rust.

Wih prisoner two's pitiful pleas 
thwarted by super glue,
silence abounds.
I arrange your plates with a smug smile,
almost slaphappy
at the new inmate's induction.
Perhaps she'll replace me
as your prized plaything.

I pull out your chair 
as you run twisted fingers
through still damp hair.
I place a napkin upon your lap,
and then curtsy with care
so as not to bare scars.

With bowed head, I giddily whisper,
"So good of you to throw a party
most wonderful Warden,
it's a joy to have some company."
and I spy a glint of gloat
in the flint of your eyes.

I offer you a bite
with a silver fork
so far beneath your grasp
as a dirty little ditty 
bounces about my brain:

Please spare her the boneyard
beneath the basement floor,
unlike the whores 
who came before,
dear Lord,
let this one be a keeper.


----------



## ned (Jan 11, 2017)

*Self Control*

.
When she made her entrance
I opened the door
to feelings straight from the soul.

Though my senses were reeling
my mind wasn't sure.
“_Are you receiving, control?”_


Yet, we became lovers
to share with each other,
she wanted a flat, a cat and a pup.

But more than that,
a role as a mother.
“_Hello control, you're breaking up!”_


So, I buttoned my lip
as I let things slip
'til she was aware of my doubt.

Then, leaving me there
with nothing to share.
“_Control receiving – over and out.”_


----------



## jenthepen (Jan 11, 2017)

*The trial of Mathilda Crump.*

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mathilda Crump, a fiery lass_,_
had found herself in need of cash
but lack of any expertise  
made new employers ill at ease.                    
A skivvy for a cruel man,    
the only job that came to hand.


Her portly boss, Sylvester Tadd
was always screaming, always mad.
  “That's not the way! No, not like that!
Do it again, you useless brat!”
He bawled at her both day and night,  
nothing she did was ever right!


One day she finally saw red
and grabbed the knife they used for bread.
She thrust it deep into his chest
and watched the blood soak through his vest.
She waited until death was sure,
then called the long arm of the law.


Of course, they hauled her off to court
to face the wrath that justice sought.
The case was short, her guilt was clear,
her temper would now cost her dear.
She mentioned how, in mitigation,
Tadd dealt out humiliation.


The judge had pity for her plight
and mentioned that it was not right
for anyone to claim control
over another living soul.
  “However, jail is justified,
since justice must be satisfied.


  “We all must retain self-control
and make good judgement our main goal.
Although the court here understands,
you can't take law into your hands.
Report abuse and any strife,
don't try to solve it with a knife!”


Mathilda looked around the court
and curtseyed as she had been taught.
  “Your worship is quite right,” she sighed,
  “my guilt can never be denied.
I guess,” she said, eyes to the ground,
  “I let that boss Tadd grind me down!”


The judge smiled at the way she spoke,
he liked repentant common folk.
  “I'm pleased,” he said, “that at this time,
you see the folly of your crime,
how your impetuosity
gave rise to gross ferocity.”


  “Oh yes,” she cried, her voice was strong,
  “I see now, sir, where I went wrong.
I lost control. I was a fool.
I should have let my temper cool.
If I had planned, I could have tried
to make it look like suicide!”


----------



## sas (Jan 12, 2017)

Just  why  is   it . . .


----------



## aj47 (Jan 12, 2017)

[untitled - January]

hand-waving my sock
reaching out to the forum
to pat my own back


----------



## Ariel (Jan 13, 2017)

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...Control-quot?p=2057318&viewfull=1#post2057318


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Jan 13, 2017)

*Entry submitted by clark:

Correcting Bad Behavior*


----------



## Blue (Jan 14, 2017)

*The Existentialist*

When you asked
if I believed 
in a thing called fate
I replied honestly,
'I don't know'


I don't know if
our futures are set 
in the stones beneath our feet,
made someplace so high
even birds dare not fly


If they are carved into
stars like fire,
stitched into the seams 
of a glittering universe 
by some god or another 


Or, perhaps my initials
have been written into
the book of time,
my future planned 
to the last, haggard breath...


I don't think so,
I don't think I was born 
with a lover in mind,
Time did not gasp at my birth
nor stop to wonder who I was


My feet are not influenced 
by anything but me,
Not fate, not prophecy
Not destiny,
the stars never crossed for me.


I am not a story book waiting
for pages to turn as I watch idly, 
my life is my own,
my future unclear,
But only I control it.


----------



## midnightpoet (Jan 14, 2017)

Obsessionshttp://www.writingforums.com/thread...Control-quot?p=2057526&viewfull=1#post2057526


----------



## PiP (Jan 15, 2017)

Controlled


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Jan 15, 2017)

This challenge is now closed.


----------

