# August Challenge: "The Tide(s)"



## Chesters Daughter (Aug 1, 2015)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by Darkkin is: *The Tide(s)*

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.

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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 August at 7pm EST.*


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## Chesters Daughter (Aug 1, 2015)

*Anonymous submission:

Barren
*


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## musichal (Aug 2, 2015)

*Tides of Water and of War   (Sestina)*

Disqualified for Late Edit - _musichal_


*.........................**Tides of Water and of War*

.................................._by musichal_


A mass of flowing liquids represent the tides of water, and of war,
as each in endless cycle resonates throughout the realms of their attack.
However one perceives the ebb and flow of battle rhythm in the night,
it is but men who plan destruction in the light of day who take control.
But seas and oceans rise and fall at Sol and Luna's strong diurnal force,
deforming Terra's core and crust with gravity to gain the seas' surrender.

The full-moon/new-moon sequences conspire their periodical attack,
alignment of the orbs producing Spring Tides render maximum control.
The oceans march in synchrony to help assure a distant shore's surrender,
now relentlessly impelled by Moon's contentious wielding of its force.
In twelve-and-one-half-hour shifts the risings inundate both day and night,
receding gently afterward 'til fully ebbed, as though surcease from war.

The human body sixty-five percent of water, subject to control
by prod and tug of heaven's mass of entities of elemental force,
are thus compelled by pressures most unseemly bent to devastating war.
Astrologers have sought prognostication from the stars seen in the night,
in constellations thus predictive of a victory – or else surrender.
Generals yet strategize with tidal lunar charts while planning an attack.

To move an entire ocean, or to move a sea, requires tremendous force
as large celestial bodies thus rotate, revolve and orbit through the night
into the day, and so preparing endless waves of an attack.
And though these flowing waters pound the beach, the land refuses to surrender,
as the battles rage, one drop of brine, one grain of sand locked in a war.
The opposition seeks to rule but neither wins as Luna keeps control.

Our planet overflows with weapons firing in a darkened, endless night
of conflict, woe and pain which never stops, not even in surrender.
Mutual destruction is the gospel armies now claim can control
the ageless tendency of men to blindly sally forth, engaging war.
Their pumped-up blood flows heavily, to be exsanguinated in attack,
but in the end solutions fail, with nothing gained by use of deadly force.

Does indeed the Moon inspire such Lunacy and cause man to surrender
reason like an ocean being pulled as if Earth's gravity were found at war?
In Spring Tide or in Neap Tide as we walk along the water, we ignore the force
that sun, the moon and Earth employ to move the seas, and men, to make attack.
Are we then Masters of our destiny deluded by our thoughts of grand control,
or animals ill-fated by these other-worldly spheres foretelling only death in graceless night?

The tides of war call out, “Attack!” The tides of oceans demonstrate their force.
And who knows what is in control? Or who may rule? The orbs now glowing in the night?
The tides of water never shout, "Surrender!" But the tides of men forever call for war.


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## Darkkin (Aug 2, 2015)

*Tide Swans*

Tide Swans

Creatures without time, Ebb and Flow—push and pull, so the Tide Swans go.
With each cycle passing, billows of the Firefly Tide rippling into deepest night.
Betwixt the Black, Ebb, and the White, Flow, love burning, ashes upon snow.

Ebb the Black, always seeking just beyond the bend, a secret only he can know. 
Flow the White, lingers just around the bend, in her wake a shaft of muted light.
Creatures without time, Ebb and Flow—push and pull, so the Tide Swans go.

Billows of the Tide, fall and rise, bringing to one and all, courses of joy and woe.
One leading, one receding, he to she, as life to death, bright day to deepest night.
Betwixt the Black, Ebb, and the White, Flow, love burning, ashes upon snow.

Life to death conceding, breath abating, no longer waiting, the Dires upon a doe.
Death to life proceeding, Dires feeding—there in the gloam of the firefly light.
Creatures without time, Ebb and Flow—push and pull, so the Tide Swans go.

Billows rise, Flow of Life is waning; Ebb of Death is gaining, hope a far off glow.
The cycle, a round repeating, the refrain echoing, a song raging through the night.
Betwixt the Black, Ebb, and the White, Flow, love burning, ashes upon snow.

Yet the Tides are changing, a demon creeping, reaping fears these mortals sow.
The circle now broken; a lowly cygnet lost, fallen when the Swans took flight.
Creatures without time, Ebb and Flow—push and pull, so the Tide Swans go.
Betwixt the Black, Ebb, and the White, Flow, love burning, ashes upon snow.


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## rcallaci (Aug 2, 2015)

*Sandcastle Memories*

Low Tide

sea shells and clams

wet sand sharp rocks and angry crabs

 stinking stinging biting crunching cutting 

sand castles mud pies blood moon onslaught 

breaking waves shark attacks sting rays jelly fish 

moving crashing flowing flooding  drowning 

a water symphony 

High Tide

storms and tidal waves 
ocean currents on the move-
sand in my sandals 
​


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## Firemajic (Aug 4, 2015)

*Turning the Tide of the Tomb*

_Old king Tut was safe in his tomb
smoking a hookah, enjoying his room
when he heard a tiny tapping
tap tap tap...subtle rapping

The king thought.. what the hell
then his royal face turned pale
rap rap rap... quiet tapping
tap tap tap...secret rapping

He hid behind a wall of stone
afraid because he was all alone
rap tap rap... tiny tapping
tap tap tap...terrible rapping

Old King Tut royally freaked out
something was coming, there was no doubt
a terrible rapper was in his room
disturbing the safety of his tomb

Cleopatra was out on the town
no one else was around
just the eerie tiny tapping
something secretly tapping rapping

Old Tut knew he was in mortal danger
from the secret tapping stranger
the one who was doing the terrible tapping
menacing rapping tapping rapping...

The death watch beetle was playing the gong
such an eerie funeral song
rap tap tap...rap tap tap..
old Tut's heart went rap rap rap...

His fragile sanity finally snapped
and his royal eyes rolled back
his last breath was a whispered gasp
silenced by the tap tap tap...

Cleopatra found King Tut dead
with his crown still on his head
she did not hear the deadly rapping
the beetle was finished tap tap tapping...

There is a moral to this tragic tale
nothing can turn the tide between heaven or hell
when the death watch beetle is ready to rap
on your gong of life, tap.. tap... tap...









_


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## Phil Istine (Aug 4, 2015)

*A Brief History of Life*

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...Tide(s)-quot?p=1890062&viewfull=1#post1890062


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## Terry D (Aug 4, 2015)

Tidal Tales

I watch giants dancing in the sky,
a tip, a twirl, a soft caress, at first too close then swept away,
to pirouette within the dark, then slowly rush to kiss again.

Flowing robes trail behind, tidal bridges tracing steps
like platinum memories of cosmic grace.
The briefest touch, gives birth to stars,
natal light so very old; 
gas enfired,
gleaming orbs.

The dance continues far from here.
I see the Titans with my voyeur’s eye, pressed to glass,
piercing sky, watching courtships as old as time.
Nothing moves, nothing stays, God plays god in minor ‘c’,
but it’s Newton’s apple that drops the tune
 while I watch giants dancing in the sky.


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## Lewdog (Aug 4, 2015)

*"Carnage"*


The ripples smack like clapping hands against the sand,
War continues day and night between these natural warriors.

The water is never relenting beating it's foe into submission,
Crashing like cannon balls to wreck the walls of defense.

Endless onslaught forever attacking this defenseless victim.
With infinite time there is no rest as the battle continues.

Soldiers fall with every wave that grabs and drags them in,
Tomorrows and yesterdays are empty thoughts for them.

It becomes only a list of when it will be their time to submit,
People stand and enjoy the scene of destruction and erosion.

Here lies this Beauty, 
Even in this natural carnage.


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## Gillmanjoe (Aug 7, 2015)

"Sand"

The waves push against me
as I lay 
motionless on the sand

the spray washes over me
as I lay 
motionless on the sand

The tides come and go
only my bones show

Will they find me
as I lay 
motionless in the sand


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## Nellie (Aug 8, 2015)

*Along The Bay*


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## Chesters Daughter (Aug 10, 2015)

*Anonymous submission:

**-be uns talk: (sp)route-*


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## Chesters Daughter (Aug 10, 2015)

*Wishful Thinking*

I walk the shoreline
at breaking dawn
on a crisp
late winter morn,
numbed to my knees
by frigid brine,
hoping to freeze
my overtaxed mind.

Tender lips of tide
kiss my steps
and quickly hide
every trace 
I'd been there,
each grain of sand
restored with care.
Tracks of my lone
intrusion erased;
the sea always rights
what's been displaced.

How I wish the sea
as company
everywhere I amble,
for then there'd be
no memory 
of missteps taken 
so senselessly.

I abhor treading
this beach alone
seeking to exile
impressions
etched in stone -

indelible
for eternity,
forever consuming
inner harmony - 

if only my memory
were made of sand
then unwanted footprints,
upon demand,
would be effaced by
my certain hand
leaving only those
I can withstand.


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## Caragula (Aug 12, 2015)

*Outside the circle of the sun*

I had thought that Nassau’s sapphire sea
and the tobacco kick of this whisky
sufficient to burn her ghost.

The shimmering tide of Cable Beach
is whipped and splashed by one track children,
clear white fireworks of droplets smacked and kicked,
at their service on another daydream day.

Its service is more courteous at the pale white ends of
these marbled legs.
To what end would I kick the water’s repeated caress?
It does its best to draw away the ghost.

For a moment the dissonant choir of memories being baked into
skin, bleached into hair, the baritone fathers overseeing with care,
are cut away loose.
I’m holding a noose, picking up a fallen chair,
phoning the police with my address.

I look down after the fact of an orange beachball
rolling back from the gentle rebuff of my shin,
“Sorry!” waves a girl, mottled with sand,
behind her standing her gran
awaiting some pleasantry,
my chance to join the circle of the sun.

Before I can raise a hand in a faux-delighted wave
I’m chest deep in the evening sea.
I shuffle towards the beach,
my hotel is already out of reach.
Two men, under either arm,
take my weight to the marzipan shore
and dump me flat before eternity,
the rope in my hand,
standing at the cellar door.


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## Boofy (Aug 12, 2015)

*Tides apart*

Tides apart,
we were alone.
Still, we are alone.
We meet but don't.

Tides apart,
we chat awhile,
or we type awhile.
We speak and want.

Tides apart,
we share ourselves
and yet keep our ourselves.
We can never be we.

Tides apart,
We acknowledge it.
Aye, we mourn the fact.
We're divided by the sea.


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## am_hammy (Aug 12, 2015)

*Tide Almighty!*

The Almighty Tide has come to save
The Almighty Tide is fresh and clean
As gentle as a beautiful dream

The Almighty Tide flows with the water
The Almighty Tide is one with the earth
Always there for me, ever since my birth

The Almighty Tide  has never failed
The Almighty Tide has a distinct smell
That everyone knows so well

The Almighty Tide resides in my closet
The Almighty Tide restores all colors, even gray
My number one choice on laundry day


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## Kepharel (Aug 13, 2015)

*These Tides Of Life

*These tides of life that carry me
Only to crash against the cliff
And melt away into an endless sea
Then without ado gone in a jiff.

That spray of past who I used to be
Once held my dreams aboard a fragile skiff
To then abandon through apathy
And part our ways in a lovers tiff.


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## kbsmith (Aug 14, 2015)

*LoveTide*


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## Gumby (Aug 14, 2015)

*Taken*


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## Ariel (Aug 14, 2015)

*Drown*

You pull me
like the moon
to the tide.
Pull me down
to gladly
drown in your
salty depths.


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## Bloggsworth (Aug 15, 2015)

Between Tides


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## Mutimir (Aug 15, 2015)

*The Tides*

The tides of my soul
Will ebb and flow
With wonderful highs
And devastating blows
My breath will break
And my heart will crack
Plunging hope down to darkness
Into a cold pit without a rope
My cynical mind only wondering
If this is it, is this the end 
If it was even worth anything
But  the cracks will fill
Eventually, with your tender voice
A voice pouring kindness into a pit
Brimming with true sincerity
Giving to this self-destructing being
And some may see the futility, but not me
Because even if the Sun and Earth
Have an ultimate expiration 
My tides will always flow
So long as you circle me


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## PiP (Aug 15, 2015)

The Tides of Depression

Sunlight filters through the shadow of despair
like rays of hope to a drowning man in murky waters.
The black cloak of depression shrouds happiness
worn as the mantle of misery, clasp locked
round the throat, strangling its victim as they gasp for air.

The tide turns with the moon as moods of desperation ebb and flow
ever changing with the tide's highs and lows.


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## Chesters Daughter (Aug 15, 2015)

This challenge is now closed. Poll will be up in approximately two hours. Having electrical woes and Con Ed is shutting us back down again to complete repairs. I apologize for the delay.


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