How it Works:
The LiveWire Writing contest will start off in this thread. You will post your piece of work with the necessary information (I'll describe that in a little bit). The posting will go on until September 1st, 2008. You've got a lot of time, over two months, so perfect your work! Make it amazing before you press submit. Then, four judges and I will each pick two favorites of ours (the judges will message me their favorites). These favorites will be forwarded into a new page. They will each be posted again in the topic, and there will be a vote. It won't be a pole, since those are pretty easy to cheat. We'll pick the top 3 from the vote. A final voting topic will be posted with those 3 pieces. They will be voted on, and sorted into first, second, and third places. Points will be awarded to all finalists, and the first place winner's piece will be reposted in all of its glory.
How do I submit?
Here's the format you should use for entering:
Membername: Title of Piece: Type of Piece (Memoir, Poem, Short Story etc.): Piece:
This format will ensure that we have all of the necessary information to judge.
RULES!!!
What's done is done.
Judges :
Message me if you'd like to be a judge. Judges cannot participate in the contest. To be a judge you must be a member with...
I'm only taking four judges. If you're interested, message me by June 28th, 2008, 11:59PM(EST).
Points available Check the contest page!
Driving in silence but I like it just fine Turnpike thruway heading due north Back to the city is it already that time? Wrapped in smells of woodsmoke and life
Sharing the leaves Caught in your hair Sharing the words floating away
Sharing the silence taht brings us together Back home to the Start of the week
heavy feet walking subway stair stomping Breath held tight against subway car heat
Your body feels light and your T-shirt back's sticking You're here for a reason you can't just be leaving
Your heart may be free and your life si your own Your soul is my soul clenched in my fist
Drifting apart won't find me alone Moving away from standing still alone
Pinch me or hit me this can't be my life
i'm only eighteen i slept at least three
It's not the city or family that's wrong or not right A lifetime of love and exploring and strife
Leaving with you That I can deal with...
Leaving as one Too much like death
Meeting you later Promise you'll be there
Your eyes feel like home And that's all that i'll need
You're not in my thoughts more like in my blood The warmth of your skin is my own private season
I know it takes courage I think that I could
Never be no babe i'm ready to go
From our rooftop to sleepwalking on air
From eighteen years to my last night with you
Mon dernier jour avec toi and i'll be with you forever
I got bored babysitting. I know I'm not going to win this contest, but this whole writing poetry thing is at least giving me something to do. Even if I am terrible. A scream, a shout, A bang, he walks out, As she begins to cry She just wants to go back Way into the past So she'll no longer wish to die. She wants to go back to the nights in his car, Talking, wishing, holding hands in the dark, While he all of a sudden turns the radio on, Blasting aloud their favorite song, And as they sing at the top of their lungs, A man passes on his nightly run, An overjoyed grad speaks to his new boss, A baby is born and another one lost, But these two teenage lovers, As they sit and they smile, Are so unaware as they will be in awhile They're self absorbed and naive And can only focus on, That one little spark in between their two arms The spark which eventually turns into a kiss, Which turns into a moment of pure and true bliss, A shared moment, a touch here and there, Which one week later turns into a scare, But together they stand, in a mutual bind, Breathing sighs of relief at that negative sign, Just like they did when the Seagulls lost, As he scored an education with that one last toss. And this poor little girl, who thought she was complete Is all alone to suffer the ultimate feat Because the bliss is all over, Only the memories remain She's even wondering if it was worth it to play the game. Forever, he'd said as he'd kissed her sweet soul, But there's no such thing as forever, as she now knows. Yet this girl is strong, she'll carry through. No matter how hard it'll be to do. She tells herself she has to survive, Because, clever girl, she knows this is life. And life is a beautiful, complicated thing. But most of all it is huge, And certainly surprising. And she has to trust fate, and rewake the dying Part of her deep down inside, Who just wants to give up, just wants to hide. All these years this part of her soul Hasn't needed to come out, because of her beau But now that he's gone, she needs to be brave She'll expose her whole self until she can firmly say, That she can stand on her own two feet, That she can live even through defeat. That she can cope, even alone, Just like it says she does at the end of this poem.
I know I'm not going to win this contest, but this whole writing poetry thing is at least giving me something to do. Even if I am terrible.
A scream, a shout, A bang, he walks out, As she begins to cry She just wants to go back Way into the past So she'll no longer wish to die.
She wants to go back to the nights in his car, Talking, wishing, holding hands in the dark, While he all of a sudden turns the radio on, Blasting aloud their favorite song, And as they sing at the top of their lungs, A man passes on his nightly run, An overjoyed grad speaks to his new boss, A baby is born and another one lost,
But these two teenage lovers, As they sit and they smile, Are so unaware as they will be in awhile They're self absorbed and naive And can only focus on, That one little spark in between their two arms
The spark which eventually turns into a kiss, Which turns into a moment of pure and true bliss, A shared moment, a touch here and there, Which one week later turns into a scare, But together they stand, in a mutual bind, Breathing sighs of relief at that negative sign, Just like they did when the Seagulls lost, As he scored an education with that one last toss.
And this poor little girl, who thought she was complete Is all alone to suffer the ultimate feat Because the bliss is all over, Only the memories remain She's even wondering if it was worth it to play the game. Forever, he'd said as he'd kissed her sweet soul, But there's no such thing as forever, as she now knows.
Yet this girl is strong, she'll carry through. No matter how hard it'll be to do. She tells herself she has to survive, Because, clever girl, she knows this is life. And life is a beautiful, complicated thing. But most of all it is huge, And certainly surprising. And she has to trust fate, and rewake the dying Part of her deep down inside, Who just wants to give up, just wants to hide.
All these years this part of her soul Hasn't needed to come out, because of her beau But now that he's gone, she needs to be brave She'll expose her whole self until she can firmly say, That she can stand on her own two feet, That she can live even through defeat. That she can cope, even alone, Just like it says she does at the end of this poem.
this is my favorite of all i have read so far. it's absolutely amazing.
I loved you and you loved me, where did we go wrong? Time at first passed quickly, being drunk with joy and happiness being in love. After so long being alone and pondering to give up completely on the chance of true happiness. Leaving the past behind me i dove blindly into the comfort of your arms. Little to know you still clung to previous events and my dark past with a death grip. Jealousy and rage do horrible things to a person. My love for you burned bright while yours for me dimmed with each passing day. Others around you assisted in your inner hatred. Turning my once bright lover into a hurtful non-caring monster. Knowing I would never leave your side, i became your emotional punching bag. I took the rage and hateful words for others actions. Instead of holding me close you pushed me away leaving me feeling my past would never let me be, my lonliness to be eternal, constent, and never ending. Covering your emotions and drowning your gentle nature with temporary escapes, alcohol and drugs. It seemed to me you were drowning in everything. Constantly i reached out to you, hoping to be a beacon of light in your storm of despair. The more i attempted to save you the more distant you became. Eventually your words once loving and comforting, hurt worse than physical abuse. You broke what self-esteem you had given me with hurtful words leaving me crippled and feeling worthless, disposable. Desperate i continued to try and amend things. Taking your rude comments and ignoring them. But after days upon days, months upon months, of constantly trying to convince myself everything would be alright, that soon things would return to being like they were in the beginning. But diving blindly into your arms for the comfort of love i blinded myself to your faults and problems. So desperate for love i forgot to guard my heart. Wanting everything to work out like in fairy tales I dropped all defenses and walls around myself. Trusting you with my frail and vulnerable heart. But like many times before my trust was misplaced. Accusations and harsh words exchanged, I realized it was pointless, you cant save someone who doesnt want to be saved, let alone someone who refuses to believe he's losing himself. Breaking my bond with you was painful and shattered my heart into a million pieces. My soul crying out for your love, wishing and reminicsing about the past. So much passion, lost. Letting you go i had to depend on myself. Everything you built and crushed I have to rebuild, this time for myself. Learning to depend on myself and not others for happiness. Time will heal my wounds. Everyday that passes this rift between us widens. A constant reminder of what was and will never be again. Ill love again one day. Love is spontaneous and unexpected. Not to be treated like it has an on/off switch. I'll always care for you, for the temporary happiness you gave me away from my depression. Fate cant be avoided only accepted. Though I will always love you, i have to let go. in losing yourself im scared of being/becomming lost with you. Maybe you'll let the next love that comes into your life save you from the monster you've become. For now i cant...I have to save myself.
What is it?
My arm. ... Again?
Yes, again.
Where is it?
Here. It isn't deep.
Alright, well, let's get this cleaned.
Thank you.
I thought you'd moved on?
No.
Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?
Should I have?
Of course. I'm here to help you.
Right. I'm sorry.
Would you like to talk about it?
If you would.
Well, I'm open for discussion. Go on then.
I still miss her.
Yes. We all do.
Yes.
Don't move.
I won't.
And the dreams?
They aren't dreams.
Hm. We could always go back to the doctor if they bother you.
No. They don't bother me.
You're sure?
I'm sure.
Well alright then. If you change your mind...
Just try not to hurt yourself anymore. It really is quite frightening.
I'm sorry. I'll try.
Alright well, off you go now. I'm very busy.
Yes. Good day.
Good day.
I miss her. Every day I do. And the others do as well; I feel it every time I see them. But they never ask her back. I see her every night. She can't hear me. I try to follow her, but I trip. I can't reach her. Why don't they talk to her? The red water that came out of her head. It's the same red water that's come out of my arm every morning. But I don't leave. I hope she comes back soon. I miss her.
Her body shakes violently in the vinyl chair stationed behind the reception desk. For the young man, it's cause for alarm, but the cleaner continues to clean and the painter continues to paint, not even slightly phased by the drama. After what seems like a lifetime, the shaking halts and the woman resumes her work as if nothing has happened. She gathers bits and pieces, hands them to the man and begins to explain the ins and outs of his stay. The shower takes a few minutes to heat up so be patient; extra blankets are in the bottom drawer of the closet if he needs them; under no circumstance is he to approach the ginger cat; breakfast is served from 7am to 9am in the dining room. But tonight, he'll choose no shower over a cold shower and be woken up constantly through the night by the harsh cold. In the hallway the next morning, he'll receive a rude awakening by a sadistic feline and move into the dining room to discover the kitchen is closed. Things might have run more smoothly had he payed attention to the receptionist's instructions, but he instinctively gawked at her bizarre, frazzled appearance; and felt overpowered by the unusual, metallic odour of her breath.
After a much needed nap, it's back to the dining room in time for lunch. Missing breakfast is starting to have an effect on the man, and the moment he steps into the dining room, he receives a sharp blow to the head. Physically, he's untouched. His senses, however, are thrown into a state of chaos. Unsure what to be most horrified by, his ears tortured by shrill laughter; his eyes suffering from the shock of what lies before him; his nose in agony from the intensified odour of the receptionist's breath. The small dining room is now filled with staff and permanent guests alike; dining on various strange meals and guzzling down their water. Never before has he been in the presence of such an odd gathering of people.
Seated at the table nearest to the door is the receptionist, convulsing madly; her frizzy, untamed hair bouncing freely. The other positions at the table are occupied by characters equally as peculiar. A frighteningly frail woman tries her best to recover a half-eaten sandwich from beneath the gentleman passed out on the table, hopefully just sleeping. Meanwhile the painter, the chef and the kitchen-hand are engaged in a rather heated argument regarding the overall state of the world today. Despite the increased challenge that the painter also happens to be employed as the chef and the kitchen-hand, they really do seem to raise some interesting discussion points.
A piercing shriek is heard from the far side of the room, and a woman dressed in the attire of a maid jumps to her feet. She begins screaming profanities at the man seated across from her, and once he can take no more, he throws a handful of coins at the table and storms out; his grubby robe dragging along the floor. The maid, pleased with herself, leans back in her seat and takes a swig of her water. The young man starts to wonder if the dining room is really the kind of atmosphere he wants to be in right now, then decides to take his lunch to his room.
Sitting in the middle of the king sized bed, surrounded by dirty plates, he lets out a sigh and loosens his belt. Picking up a half-empty glass of water prompts him to wonder if there's another bottle. Three bottles lay in the floor next to the bed, but all are empty and therefore useless. No matter how much water he drinks, his thirst remains unquenched, and suddenly he feels a headache coming on. Dizzily making his way back to the dining room in search of more water, he passes a photograph hanging on the wall. Stopping for a second glance, he recognizes the building as what would have been the Inn in it's glory days, and the people gathered out front as the employees. The young girl bears a striking resemblance to the receptionist, but she lacks the wild look in her eyes, and seems far too ordinary to be the shaking screwball the Inn is home to today.
Continuing his journey to the dining room, the young man begins to ponder the quirkiness of the Inn's residents. How does one establishment attract such numbers of strange characters? Were they ever regular people?
The man's vision starts to blur. Darkness begins to overwhelm his line of sight, and leaning forward to find the wall only results in a hard impact on the floor. Trying to pick himself up and failing miserably, he suddenly feels an incredible itch creeping up his leg. Scratching wildly, the itch continues to spread. Soon enough, the man is thrashing around on the floor, trying to relieve the unbearable itch. Darkness overcomes him, and the sweet embrace of unconsciousness soothes the itch.
He awakens to find himself in the grip of several employees. His mind tells him to struggle, but his body refuses to obey. They take him back to the dining room, and prop him up in a chair. Everyone returns to their seat, and continues with their unusual behaviour. He attempts to stand, but his legs wont budge. Wanting to collect his belongings and get as far away from this place as possible, he tries his hardest to gather the strength, but part of him has lost the desire to leave. Suddenly, this place feels more like home. The woman seated next to him is scantily clad, especially considering her elderly state. She shoots him a sly grin, and passes him the bottle of water. He takes a swig, and the metallic odour fills his nostrils. Suddenly, he feels an itch creeping up his leg....
I see fire burning in your eyes, The passion between us is undeniable, Neither one of us can resist the other, The moment we touch sparks fly, After the sparks come the shivers, You know just where drives me crazy.
The moment you walk through a door, My skin goes all tingly, I don't even have to look up to know your there, The connection makes my tummy flutter, My thoughts always come back to you, Even when you aren't around, I just can't help but think of your smile,
I don't have to be around you, But reminders still remain, The scents, emotions and memories, I will never forget what I felt, Nor will I ever regret it, The passion and excitement remains, Even when I'm alone your still there.
From the east come the clouds. Exploding and boiling over the edging hills, Breathing with a sweet, Malignant breath, Mown grass and dead insect dust. "Here, be still, it cannot find us."
Alone with us, Trying to escape the vicious clouds, Nestled in the sill on a bed of dust, A feather, a deceased martyr looking toward the hills. A soundless vacuum sucks away my breath. "Trust me, my sweet."
And it is sweet. Since nothing is here with us, We can save our breath, I can listen to your reassurance and the roiling advance of the clouds. And feel your hands run over the hills And planes of my back, soft with lingering dust,
From where you tried to keep me from getting dust On my new sweater, the color of the sweet Tea that we would be sipping on those hills Were it not for the problem of "us" In the first place, because the gods in the clouds, The ones with the malevolent breath,
Wish our combined breath A quick and healthy return to the dust. To be swept carelessly of, trailing the clouds For eternity, which could be sweet, Except that we would never remember the "us." I shudder, bury my face into your shoulder's hills,
Then think better of it and straighten, watching the distant hills Disappear completely as my breath Fogs the window that is saving us. Then, I notice the stirring of dust, Under the bottom pane, taste the sweet Chill of poison, and am suddenly watching my vision cloud.
Sand clouds my breathing, making hills and dunes in my throat. Your arm brushes me blindly. I turn to watch the dust sew your sweet lips, steal your breath... And we watch from within ourselves as the dust covers us.
Hailey, was always drunk whenever we went out. She has no self constraint, she has no self control. She just does what she wants to and when she does something stupid, I have to pick up the pieces. Hailey is sick. Hailey is very sick, but not because of alcohol. Hailey is an awful person. After Hailey and I go to bed and fuck. I fall asleep and Hailey uploads the videos she has secretly filmed of us having sex onto the internet. She sells them to some amateur porn site, and keeps the money. She gets quite a lot. I guess she’s smarter than I ever gave her credit for. But that isn’t the only money Hailey gets from selling her body. Every Thursday Hailey gets three cheques in the post from three different teenagers to masturbate on a web cam for them. Hailey loves this, Hailey feels sexy and in control doing this. That is how Hailey thinks. I bet you think I'm not so lucky to have her now. But you know that saying - "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer", well there’s a lot of truth in it. So when I found out what Hailey was doing, Hailey can't keep secrets and can't remember what she says when she’s drunk. I just pretended it never happened. I listened to her fake an orgasm three nights a week on top of me, under me, in front of me, whichever position she seemed to think would look best on film. I didn’t say anything when I found the dildos hidden in a desk. I don’t love Hailey. I love when I come home to my 1 bedroom flat in a reasonably respectable area, and there’s someone at home, finished her shitty job in a shop, and I’ve got 2 hours till I have to go to work in a bar, and not a word passes between us, until she wants something. "Davey, honey, Davey, I need...." and then I’m in power for those few seconds. I always say yes.
Walking back Across the sands…
God knows I've Been here before, Following our footprints Where we walked. Put myself in your position, Think that’s the way To sort it out?
How you're feeling is written in your footprints, They're deeper in the sand than mine.
I even think your footprints are beautiful, How could you have doubted me?
Twenty paces of constant crying Haven't shown me anything. The truth is pretty clear though, It’s written here in every footprint. I should have said something, Even if I didn't do it, One word could have changed it, But it was something else.
I was a fool not to notice... Looking at your footprints.
Breathe Deeper
Inhale the smoke surrounds her and the giant puffs of air bring her close to you She belongs to you and you to her but the fog separates you it pulls her away from you as if you two weren't meant to be She's pretty you're ugly She's tall you're short She's black you're white but you inhale deeper puckering your lips into a vast black whole you're hungry hungry for the smoke hungry for the fog hungry for love wishing, hoping, praying that when the smoke clears she won't see the pimples, the scars, the bifocal glasses, the braces, the limp, or the ear that's larger than the other, but She will see you and recognize the familiar face you're the guy that stops breathing when She breathes, stops eating when She eats, stops singing, stops dancing STOPS to gaze quietly through the fog, wishing you were on the other side Defrost you enter the cold clouds step by step drawing closer to her, longing to be lost within her Earthly brown eyes you emerge the fog thins out the smoke floats away the clouds ascend back where they belong this is the moment afraid you won't make it to her, you take a picture Flash She's gone with the wind you stand still gazing into the picture no girl just smoke thick grey smoke just fog cat like fog just clouds large confusing clouds you're still in them and you realize she never left and neither did you Exhale
716 users online 
223234 members 859 active today Advertise Here
716 users online 223234 members 859 active today Advertise Here
You have 1 new message.
