Welcome to the 2005 entries for the Stephen King Poetry Competition.
January
"The World Moves On"
The world moves on. And the world moves on.
Has the battle already been won?
Or is the fight only just begun?
Is there glory in the dying?
Or simply just for the trying?
Does the world move on? Yes, the world moves on!
Along the dusty roads
Along the cracked, deserted streets
Empty houses, once grand, now old
Echoe's of mans heartbeat.
The world moves on. And the world moves on.
Guns on his hip, lone hero of yore
The Gunslinger strides, last of his kind
Destined to save the humble and poor
Tormented by seeds of doubt in his mind.
The world moves on. And the world moves on.
Quest for the spark and soul of man
All the folly and wrongs to set right
Search Gunslinger, across this wasteland
Only you are left to continue the fight.
And the world moves on.
A Puzzle to Ponder
Dear Mr. King, I often wonder how your creations come to life...
Your words and descriptions are
so fun and make
Your Constant Readers, oh! so happy. Not much strife
Do you give our eyes, but
to the mind you take
Us on a fantasy delight...
Oh! Mr. King, your stories are filled to the brim
Full
of mystical places, and sometimes you will
Write down-to-earth people and places with grim
Tales of abuse
and real-life horror. These still
Are the true gems of your craft...
S.E.K., your Constant Reader
will always be
Impressed with your skills and talents. No words
Of yours could ever bore our minds. We
all see
The truth in what you write. Solemn black birds
Can tell what is to come just like you...
Dear Mr. King, you have a magical gift that is one
To Cherish...You are a living legend and
With that
in my clear mind, I thank you a TON
For the words, the songs and your band
You sang in...many memories
are forever...
March
The Gift Of Darkness
Eternity
From past until present;
Forever passes in the blink of an eye
I am not here nor there
Not now nor ever
Within the Gift of Darkness.
Isolation
Cut off from all else
I know nothing but this life
I know not to thirst for more
Nor that I lack something
Nor that this something exists.
Indifference
I see nothing within darkness
But darkness, nothing more
I keep to myself, uncertain
Of anything
Much less myself.
Blind
What do you feel when im with you
Is it the same when Im not?
When you take that tear off my cheek
Another flows to take its place
And yet you take that one also.
Deaf
Oblivious to the words
Within your words
I play the role of a fool
Within the darkness, I am
Myself and nothing else.
Mute
The words which once touched my lips
Flee from me
I reach out to them a nd stumble
I falter and I fall
Unseen in the darkness.
Epiphany
When I put my arms around you
You didn't recoil from me
You put your arms around me tightly
And never let me go
Held me forever.
Condemned
Never again shall I see the day
For I wish never to see it again
It brings but pain and agony
For I can see not your face
When I have my Gift of Darkness.
The Shadows (How Stephen King's Work Haunts Me)
I silently listen for my enemy
I
hide so he won't captivate me
He lurks around in the dark
Smooth and silent like a shark
He follows me
where ever I go
He is my enemy, fiend, and foe
He's always there, he never sleeps
He never has made a
peep
He covers the world in sheer darkness
As you can see, he is heartless
He follows me into my dreams
He stays near me despite my screams
Empowered by a cat, or even a tree
Why won't the shadows just
leave me be?
May
The Stand
A tribute to the work of Stephen King
Everything has stopped
The silence is suffocating.
On a lonely road that never ends,
My life for yours to make amends.
we dream of the Darkman,
red in his eyes and bound to condemn.
We dream of the Darkman
and crucified men .
We walk endlessly
Chased by the white-faced riders of the dead.
We wade through blood, clogged at our feet,
like unholy mud.
We walk with fear.
With the knowing of the cursed.
We walk through this land, to make a penance,
to make a stand.
Mr. King Please Let Me Be
I have not read your books
But with only a look
I can tell of what they took
Even though their only books
My life is a living hell
So now your books become swell
As people read them I can see their faces going pale
Oh Mr. King it never fails
I know I'm still young
But by not reading your books I already sang a song that I sung
Now my work is like dung
Useless, worthless it's all been done
So now do you understand
Why your books have to be band
So they can blow away like a piece of sand
Can't you see your books has caused my insanity
Trigger
A holy gun in an empty hand
A hollow bullet for a hollow man
Cordite wishes in a Kevlar dream
Barely awake and barely me
The seconds fold into thoughts
Waves of sleep replace what's lost
A holy gun in an empty hand
Held as if that's all we had
A sordid click in a flash of light
The silence will win tonight
A holy gun and an empty man
A hollow chamber holds these hands
Calibrate the perfect sense
A half-life in a trigger bent
A holy gun in an empty hand
Held as if that's all we had
A sordid click in a flash of light
The silence will win tonight
A holy storm in an iron grip
Smoking dreams and an empty clip
If the time has come to make a stand
If this is fate, we have been damned
The spent shell of a man
Fell before a cold, dead hand
A holy gun in an empty hand
Held as if that's all we had
A sordid click in a flash of light
And the silence has won tonight
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