MAG Poetry Competition 2011 - search for new poems

About 44% of the participants in the 2011 poetry competition wished their poems to remain viewable on the website. Check these out here:

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Misoprostol

by Leanne Moden

Narrower now, and smaller too,
I curl around my core
a sphinx without a secret.
Weeping for that which I could not bear.

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Ghost Train

by Lee Allen

A half full carriage,
not all the seats were vacant but nearly all were empty,
The unfulfilled victims of normality,
Symptoms ablaze.

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The sun rolling down Penglais hill

by Letty Wilson

Is it sleep deprivation
Or does fag ash conjure woodsmoke?
Metallic vegetation
Colouring the air. Does cut grass cloak

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Inconspicuous

by Leyla Gittins

I could be offended by your backstabbing bitchiness
Making me feel as though I’m inconspicuous
And I could always cry about your eyes that judge
And feel hopeless that I remain the object of your grudge

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Moments in Time

by Lien Cullinane

Is time just a concept? Age a number? Should we consider the present between now and when we slumber should natural emotion betray the clear thoughts I trust for this beauty I've met once has uncovered a long hidden lust now a tingle unnerves me, unravelled from a dormitory code I count thrice in more years that I've felt such - once bitten - once deceived - and one I messed up Such beauty is simple, a pure complexion untouched Am I naive to frail prevailing opportunities such desired perceptions can cut For now our laughter, a mutually agreeing scene bridges a gap between where we lie I awaken a girl in this women I see You locate maturity in the man he must be As the nights close draws near, we slowly become one, a romantic gesture, a thumb in clasped hands circles another, a gentle kiss that suggests affection as thoughts interweave and stumble across each idea that we utter And then one query to derail all others a barrier we carefully avoided and shuddered 'Is time just a concept? Age a number?' You desire a man with ambition to settle I the other Our hearts do sink for within moments I know I shall not see you again after I blink For in life time defines boundaries within society we keep Is time just a concept?
Age a number?
Should we consider the present between now and when we slumber
should natural emotion betray the clear thoughts I trust

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Spoken too soon

by Lien Cullinane

My hearts rhythm is the beat you bring me to bare The timing skiffles through collective motions our selected channel does air A skip with thought of loss or joy, Flutters to greet, Pounds with love, Melancholic in need, Crashed cymbals of excitement fill a void in me At moments it contracts but not for wrong, Before exploding with instinct, Blood rush courses, A chase is on I run through forests, Briars I pull, Through water I wade and rocks I clear I am both hunter and prey, You are my prize, caught in a tail wind One moment a hawk and then a sparrow, Glorious and vulnerable You could play both shooter or conservationist Shoot me down, or preserve for ever For then and now the drum softens and slows to the chime of second clockbeat You lay in my arms, My grasp, My hue, ….pudum…pudum…pudum it brings life to me, a life I give to you My hearts rhythm is the beat you bring me to bare
The timing skiffles through collective motions our selected channel does air

A skip with thought of loss or joy,

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Caricature

by Lien Cullinane

When I may rise, you may sleepI'll be your eyes, please rest in peace
My day will wander as a prop to those night scenes I replay
the script we followed, the characters we played

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Encircled Sentiments

by Lien Cullinane

She was introduced the first and then bid farewell at second This instance now passed, lost to soon Another day dawns, indistinguishable to others but I begin a new Purity, innocence and beauty enclose eyes that flutter a story longing to be read A disclosure I unfairly judged and queried before revealing hidden wounds that I've never displayed Rare are such qualities found, can this be true? A woman can trust then open then carve and still love me too Defining moment, disguised amidst the flow of the night, how to know of the profound impact unplanned actions can make Every one of those seconds I did hasten to waist for once passed I look around to see nothing has changed So the soul yearns, encircled by sentiments of love and loss, it's only now I realize what emotional boundaries I've crossed A simple moment in time
She was introduced the first and then bid farewell at second
This instance now passed, lost to soon
Another day dawns, indistinguishable to others but I begin a new

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A rose in its cup

by Lien Cullinane

Soft smoothed skin brings a warmth to a bore battered and bruised by a fear through a crop of seed grown a smile, pale clasped hands, silk caresses a wound the corncrake in long grass unsuspecting the near swoop Not long since I found you, cagey then curious a found reflection bound calmness as conversationalists we grew Like as a cub and its sibling, not hawk on a prey, the thrill of a chase and a grounding not for kill nor for food they swivel grass of a spring dawning, breathing a sparkling morning dew One moon did pass 'till our meeting that followed greeting you spilled an age coined wisdom of lessons more learnt a migrant bird that rustles scattered leaves of rain settled dust - twig from a chop, another crib in a flock This swallow amongst pigeons, you glide with this limp by your side a scare torn by adversaries built by wit, a constant heaving causing structures to cap side For with Time there's a healing but pale attacks breathes a defense of misadventures that still curse, as nature recites a mantra "with exposure brings hurt" Like a rose nipped in its cup, prevention not cure before the poisoned elements of nature wither a vulnerable open glory a far more irritable sore For twice I packed blunt clippers with intentions to cut but the elements were pleasing, I did coward to your beauty unearthed Now another hour 'till I see you again a cloud approaches its peak, droplets to fall upon nourishing fauna, absorbed by river running stream hidden depths below For I need a Friend, I'm a afraid of much more Soft smoothed skin brings a warmth to a bore
battered and bruised by a fear through a crop of seed grown

a smile, pale clasped hands, silk caresses a wound

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Runaway

by Lindsay Fursland

Why I ran away? A circus-shaped
need I suppose…

I was thirteen. I could only

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