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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When We Lived in the Trees

by Sion Rickard

I remember the days when we lived in the trees
We’d embrace in the branches and cling to the leaves
We’d succumb to the hum of the birds and the bees
Life was good when we lived in the trees

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The Replica Theory

by Sofia Thuru

Mirror, mirror,
maybe this mirror screen will show me who I am...
Cold and clean. Sharp and shining. Maybe this mirror can reveal the secret…
Of an oval face and two blunt eyes. Of two red lips with their edgy smile.

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Keyboard of my Heart

by Stan Almendro

The Keyboard of my heart has no ivory keys to play
Music comes from what I think, dream and what I say
A melody that people hear is my happy, sensitive heart
It is a song that will stay and never from me depart.

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OOPS

by Stan Almendro

When the man in charge stumbles and falls
Stops all the laughter and happiness stalls

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Elevated

by Stefan Ferrau

The end of something that was your all.
Brought you so far up, it’ll let you fall
down to Earth for you to plant your feet,
feel the rhythm, build your unique beat.

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Empty window

by Stephan Sundqvist

I stop by an empty window leading nowhere searching answers for driftwood of exaltations left behind years ago in disorder never restored from its dusty den. Like empty eye sockets flirting with hope to find light from an outside source my winding brain strolls on known fields now overgrown by thickets of oblivion. Still underneath currents of sweet water run, yet cold as rivulets of aching dreams. Empty clouds bewilder my fossilized skull telling me stories that never came true. Plethoric lips meet me in lingering shadows with a dark aftertaste of verbena and almond caressing my inner remnants and drooping wings flapping in an windless herbarium. I stop by an empty window leading nowhere
searching answers for driftwood of exaltations
left behind years ago in disorder
never restored from its dusty den.

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Getting There

by Stephen Beattie

The train devours miles,
suburbia flashes past,
a speeded up slideshow
of 1930’s semi

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Funeral

by Stewart Heath

Trickling forth over sculpturesque faces
Bursting from beautiful marbly places,
Winding its way down rich pure terrain
.. but not to be bottled or sold for much gain.

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side-effects

by Stewart Heath

Womb to tomb
engrave the date,
The side-effect of birth
is Fate;

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the shakes

by summer beretsky

one limb jerks, then another.
i cannot run for cover
as the rumble underground

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