# May challenge: "Amber"



## candid petunia (May 1, 2013)

The joint winners of last month, *alan* and *Travers*, have decided *"Amber"* to be the prompt of the May Challenge. 



Remember that you may approach the subject in whatever 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.



This challenge will close on the 15th May 2013.



You are allowed a 5-minute grace period to edit your entries for formatting or typos. Anything edited after that may result in the entry being excluded from the challenge.



Members posting in the *Workshop Thread* to protect their first rights must copy their link in this thread, or else it will be discounted.


*Do not post comments in this thread. It would also be greatly appreciated if everyone would refrain from using the "like" function until the challenge is closed and the poll is opened. Any comments on submissions prior to the close of the challenge should be posted in the Bards' Bistro.


*Let's get posting!


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## bajmahal (May 1, 2013)

Apparition

A plain woman encased in joy,
still for an eternity,
still for an afternoon's moment.
Ambered in the silent, filtered
sunlight
and the solitude of dust.


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## Staff Deployment (May 1, 2013)

A Metaphor For the Futility of Existence

_Jurassic Park_ had a flawed premise.
To clone dinosaurs they found a mosquito encased in amber and took DNA out of the mosquito.

DNA decays after a few thousand years.
The mosquito would be an empty shell.
Idiots.


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## tabasco5 (May 2, 2013)

*eternal bliss*


longing to touch inner desires
uncounted years of formation dissolve into decades
time cultivates worth
patience worn thin


pure natural beauty in its delicate state
handiwork of pressure light and heat
molecular polymers and resinous delights
yield fruits when harvest arrives
no price can replace in value
what colors do for the mind


healing wounds and curing time
smoothing wrinkles and setting straight
washed clean through electric pulsations
unkempt warrior crusading by night
residual footprints left behind
impressed lightly upon the soul
last times never forgotten
stored away for future use


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## alanmt (May 7, 2013)

http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...s/138568-may-challenge-amber.html#post1628229


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## Inchidoney (May 7, 2013)

Alone. 

http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...s/138568-may-challenge-amber.html#post1628238


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## Ariel (May 8, 2013)

The amber light through the windows
crystallized time--I was a bug
stuck in sap.  Heart pounding, I ran
blindly, desperately, searching.

Panic subsides--just the streetlight--
not the fire from all those years ago.
All my tears could not quench those flames.
Your rescue has come years too late.


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## Cran (May 8, 2013)

Amber

She of eyes aglow and wide, and of face flushed with pride,
strokes with loving fingers each of nature's fashioned beads;
smooth and warm, matching hair of mis-named hue.

He of younger years, barely wise; furrowed brow, suspicious eyes;
taps his sister and lets high voice follow where mind leads:
"you mean they named a bracelet after you?"


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## Chesters Daughter (May 8, 2013)

*Designs (Mature Content/Language)*

He adores the homeless.
Each contains a vein
of his favored
newfangled amber
oh so easily harvested.

He leans upon a lamppost
spying a live mine;
filth equipped with eyes
chugging a bottle 
of cheap moonshine.
The lower its level,
the better the revel,
and sleepy prey
always
makes his day.

Once chin hits chest,
he sashays 
into the alleyway.
A passing couple catch
a snippet of his ditty,
sung loud and giddy,
"...I'd hammer in the evening
all over this man..."
Giggling at an apparent
drunkard's concert,
they miss the first thuds
and muffled grunts.

His gloved hand
yanks matted hair
upturning the cave 
to see what can be saved,
and out come the pliers.
This promising prospect
fails to deliver pay dirt,
only sixteen to attack
and half have gone black.
He hopes it's sufficient.

He fancies himself
Hillbilly Blass,
only venturing into the city
to browse the row
for supplies,
collecting samples
from "volunteers"
(most of whom
subsequently die)
then it's back to the fleabag
to apply his prize.

With the last piece
finally affixed 
to the chocolate hued vest,
his best work yet,
he caresses
a snakeskin belt
adorned with amber accents,
delirious digits
finger fossilized chic.
A gift from her,
his shoulda been wife, 
who prefers city life
and her fancy fashion classes.

A hoedown is planned
to honor her return,
and he imagines her smile
when she learns
he's conquered the art
of accessorizing.

The returning chorus
of cicadas
heralds her homecoming
in about a month,
so it's down to the desk
to arrange an extended stay
in his shitty city digs.
Such a wee price to pay
to ply her with style.

It's a blessing the row
is less than a mile.
Draped over an open drawer
lies a pair
of chocolate hued pants,
both boring and bare,
and blinging them out
will take awhile.


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## PiP (May 11, 2013)

*[url]http://www.writingforums.com/poetry-challenge-secure-entries/138568-may-challenge-amber.html#post1629213*[/URL]


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## Gumby (May 11, 2013)

*Lessons from Phaethon
*

On the day foolish Phaethon
persuaded his father, Helios,
to let him drive his fiery chariot
across the sky, I can’t help but wonder;

_What was his father thinking?_

The steeds, sensing the weakness of his hands
ran away with the lad, scorching 
both earth and sky.

Later, the sisters of Phaethon
gathered on the banks 
of his watery grave
and wept inconsolably.

Zeus, sender of the thunderbolt
which ended the fiery rampage
and thus, the poor lads life,
heard their wailing— 

whether from pity, guilt,
(or simply because he tired of the racket)
he turned the women into Poplar trees.

So great was their grief, 
that even the trees 
oozed amber tears.

From this, I take three lessons:

Never dwell so long in your grief,
that it takes permanent root—

If your tears have turned to amber
_It may already be too late_—

And when your progeny come begging
for the keys to _your _fiery chariot, 
give extra thought on whether or not
they've the strength 
to hold their horses.     ​


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## Travers (May 12, 2013)

*Amber Sweetness

*Set in perfect symmetry,
lugged from flowers, heaved by bees.
Harvested from nectaries,
and put by for Winter's freeze.
A syrup, sweetened slowly
by one hundred thousand wings,
stolen by us, to only
sate our urge for honey'd things.


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## ahmuseme (May 14, 2013)

*Maple Shine*

*Maple Shine*


  Every spring, early. Cold and damp. We’d travel north.
  To my grandfather’s farm. Forgotten.
  I’d spend hours watching miles transform. 
  City-scape to tree-scape,
consumed by an exhilarating color of green.

  My grandfather’s house, haunted with disrepair
Sinking, it seemed, into the very earth it used to support.
  Surrounded by wooded acres.
  Still copious with majestic trees, left to tend.

  He would hand me fistfuls of buckets.
  Impatiently motion.
  “Take a bucket down, hang ‘nother up”
  I’d awkwardly fumble down rows of thick trees.
  My feet sinking with each step.
  The buckets on the trees, heavy with sap.
  “They aint heavy” he’d grumble. 
  And interrupt my struggle.

  At sunset my mother would cook.
  Roast and potatoes, chowder, macaroni with cheese, chicken stew.
  And we would sit on wooden chairs as raw as the trees
  and drink hot steamed milk.
  Grandfather would eat quickly and say little.
  Then he would sit by the fire, socked feet up.
  Sipping from his tarnished flask that smelled
  like maple and was the melancholy color of amber.


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## Jeko (May 14, 2013)

*Amber*

She likes the way the sun looks 
on April-coloured trees
when it's not pouring down on her
from the cloudy heavens' knees.

She likes the way the grass waves to her
when the morning yawns awake;
when the big bad moon goes beddy-byes
and the sun shines over the lake.

She likes the slow, understanding ticking
of her grandfather clock.
She leans against the pendulum
and swings with the tick-tock.

She likes the quick, bullet-time bursts
of wind against her face
as she runs like thunder over mountaintops
and leaps into outer-space. 

She likes adventures in far-away lands
Flying above the sea!
She likes to be the hero
and save her family.

She likes the solemn saddle songs
she sings on the long ride home.
She likes cars and bikes and trampolines,
sprinklers and garden gnomes.

Sometimes I think I know what I want
when I see her family
and see her laughing, smiling;
I wish she would like me.


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## Gargh (May 14, 2013)

http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...s/138568-may-challenge-amber.html#post1629792


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## lordusan (May 14, 2013)

Oh, how I wish to free her,
to leave her, 
to let her be.
But my heart pines for hers,
and I cry in my sleep,
years and years I had left her,
now I come back,
and I see her covered in an amber casing.


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## Kevin (May 15, 2013)

http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...s/138568-may-challenge-amber.html#post1629958


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## writersblock (May 15, 2013)

*Regrets*

the persistent sirens
and the plumes of smoke
that reek of gasoline and blood
preface to an eternal nightmare
if only I had resisted the last pint
perhaps I would have seen the amber light...


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## Chesters Daughter (May 16, 2013)

This challenge is now closed.


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