Dance Challenge: A Boring Object from an Extraordinary Point of View

Our second Challenge was suggested by SINS aka October Roots and it was such a good idea I just had to go with it! Our dancers were challenged this time to draw on their creative juices and put on their thinking caps as they wrote a poem no more than 20 lines long about "A Boring Object from an Extraordinary Point of View". Each entrant was to describe the object they had chosen, only telling the secret of what they were describing in the last line.

I wanted so bad to get in on this one.... my head was overflowing with ideas!
As before, to be fair I stripped the poems of names and links, and sent them to three judges outside of J-Land so that the judges could be unbiased. The last poem was accepted midnight September 19th. I turned the entries into the judges before I took off to warmer and balmier climes, and when I got back I had to collect the information and put it altogether. But, at last, the results are in. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have our winners!


First Place
By Spencer (aka, yeolecontractor)
Journal: Spencers Place

Never included
with Fruit of the Loom
Often its juicies
extract tearful gloom.
Crisp, sweet or pungent
stirs well with another root.
Adds a bit of power
like a kick from a boot.
Much maligned but used
adds so much to a base.
Nothing else helps
to enhance such a taste.
To some its sort of a muse
always to a cook, quite dandy.
I thrive when I add it to my meals
always got those onions handy.


Second Place
By Sue(aka dackbdimble)
Journal: She Speaks She Listens

Now I Lay You Down To Rest

You never know what you have until it's gone.
Every day I labor hard,
sweeping cobwebs, brushing grime.
As I put you down to rest,
please forgive my lack of faithfulness.
For no other can replace,
the "Hoover" power I had in you!
(an ode to a dead vacuum)



Third Place
By Natasha (aka: SINS and October Roots)
Journal: Tidbits

Virginia, Parliament, and a Short Red Camel.

Twenty devils in a box. Twenty, mighty, delicious scamps
that I sip from and
shudder
down
to ash under my boot. There's something to be said for confidence of this sort
when I can press the imps with fleshy lips and the pilot kamikazes with smoking engines into the belly.
I've barely two mini-marshmallows
to juggle in a v-necked, cotton t-shirt
but I can entertain twenty soldiers in a fist.

And it's my lungs they'll chuckle suicide in

while the infantry lays their mine fields of cancer
my tongue, my fingertips, my eyes, my gut
will still twitch for a flicker

a heroic spark

to conquer the last demon in the last box,
one shivering final cigarette to squash.


.

Honorable Mention
By SierraJazz
Journal: Tiny Drops Big Ocean

No One Notices Me

I am white and soft,
But no one cares.
I get no attention,
Just frustrated stares

I sit there quietly,
All pretty and fluffy.
No one notices,
Til I'm gone-then
they get huffy.

I have been ripped and torn,
Abused and thrown away.
I never complain.
I have nothing to say.

Just once I'd like to get noticed,
and receive some SPECIAL attention.
After all,
Toilet paper is an important invention.

Dance Assignment: Nursery Rhymes

Illustration by Dawn Allynn

Fish foodFishy, fishy on my dishy,
Wish you weren’t so awful squishly,
Bones akimbo on my plate,
Head chopped off, and tail sedate,
How I’d rather see you squirm,
At my hook, to get that worm!
Much more fun to see you swim,
scales all shiny, gills so slim,
but mother tells me what to eat,
lots of turnips, course some meat,
but fishy fishy on my dishy,
wish you weren’t so awful squishy!

By Maryanne (globetrotter2u)

Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes


Illustration by Dawn Allynn

I take a bath most every day
'cause Momma says I hafta
she scrubs my skin and dries me off,
and kiss me right after
It seems like such a waste of time
I guess Momma doesn't know
That as soon as I go back outside
It's mud from head to toe.

By Dawn Allynn
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes

Illustration by Dawn Allynn
Nursery Rhymes

I play outside when it is sunny and dry.
When it is raining I stay inside and cry.
Mommy won't let me out in the rain.
She says I will get sick and then just complain.
So I look out the window, and into the sky.
And ask God to keep the rain WAY up high.

~By SieraaJazz
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes

I wish my mom would let me
have one more piece of gum
Wrapper off, skinny stick
Yummy here I come
She never let's me chew too much
She thinks my teeth will rot
I beg her almost everyday
"PLEASE! No it will NOT!"
That dentist jerk he takes HER side
and MAKES me brush my TEETH!
Scrunching as I'm brushing thinking
"Geeeeez, so what's HIS beef?"
When I grow up and have MY kids, I'LL let them chew and play
'Cause when your kids are little, they think of gum all day.

~By Celeste

Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes
Nursery Rhymes

"Cootily Speaking"

A sneeze flies into the air
teenie tiny little eyes,
laughter fills the skies,
as miscroscopic green goblins
are released for the scare.

They fight for freedom
inside of a vacuum.
Ahh, they come to realise
this second chance at life.
"Smorgasborde! Come on, guys!

"Grasping vines they swing
on strong follicles divine,
while they search and dine!
Meeting up with old friends,
a serious feast will soon begin.

Quaking moves their trays
from town to town,
"No, not again!"as they begin to sway,
circling, spinning in a warp,
hoping not to land upon a chin.

A sneeze flies into the air,
teenie tiny little eyes,
laughter fills the skies,
as microscopic green goblins
are released for the scare!

~By Sue

Dance Challenge: End of Summer

The first of September brought with it a remembrance that Summer would soon be over, retiring for another year as other seasons have their turn on Mother Natures playground. School has begun, and Autumn will soon sweep her wide skirt of fallen leaves and cold winds, bringing with her some of our favorite seasons and a climate suited for fall sports, and a variety of other seasonal endeavors.

The dance goes on.

At Poetry Dance we announced our first Poetry Challenge, in honor of summer while she is still with us. Entrants responded to “The End of Summer” with an array of interpretations of the Challenge theme. Love, loss, desires, growing up, saying good bye, changing seasons, lingering memories, and hope. To be fair we stripped the poems of name and link, and sent them to three judges outside of J-Land so that the judges could be unbiased. The last poem was accepted midnight September 7th, and the judges were required to turn in their entries by late Monday afternoon, September 12th. Points were tallied, comments were noted.

And so, Dear Dancers, we have our winners.


First Place
Whirlpool
By Natasha Lorenz (aka, Octoberroots and SINS)
Journal: Tidbits

Whirlpool

The Ash wood relieves humidity
like a twenty-four foot leper
exfoliating.

Leaves form a kaleidoscope
of wet hand prints
slapping the cement,
as another
relentless
afternoon
bustles towards September
on giggles
and
bicycle wheels.

Indignant joints
flick calf and cheekbone
as dead fingertips of the tree

bleed down like ashes of summer,

and pirouette
in the automatic
autumn.



Second Place
Summer's Sun Kissed Cheeks
By Michelle (aka inafrnz247)
Journal: Relections

Summer's sun kissed cheeks

Summer's sun kissed cheeks
Fading to a milky glow
Moon shadows dance on trees
And silently waits for snow
Scented candles fill my breath
The lonely beaches mourn
For little feet to scatter 'round
For flowers to be born
Beautiful colors floating down
To waiting cherub hands
Summer's over it is true
But autumn has it's plans

Third Place
The Brittle Brown Dry Leaves
By Marcus Faber (aka: BeHereNow )
No Journal


The brittle dry brown leaves

The brittle dry brown leaves
Announce the coming Autumn
On my soul’s tree life.
What of winter?
Cold stark and dark,
Content or discontent;
Warm and cosy
In my bare forest abode,
With frail sunshine
Peeping through skeleton branches.
That’s to be.

For now, summer’s green foliage
Lingers on in places.
Shadows steal the light,
As evenings descend reluctantly.
Soothsayers shake their grave heads,
Whilst demons forge their play.
Seasons regret the whirlwind
Passing of the days,
As on my swinging hammock
I dream and count the clouds.

~By Marcus Faber

Honorable Mention
A Cry from Mother Earth
By Logan Mimna(aka alliuslogan)
No Journal

A Cry From Mother Earth

The warm sun of summer
fills me with happiness and security.
It shines on me with love
and compassion ...
My children cheer
and dance
to the sweet music
which is played from Heaven.
But then I cry
as I know summer leaves me,
and as it slowly fades away
following behind it
is the cold
bitter
bite
of frost.
Like a thousand piercing needles
covering my surface;
The life surrounding me is hidden -
the music is silenced,
the happiness is frozen.
All that remains
is the memory of summer ...
and the eager anticipation
of summer.