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Carousel's next contest theme should be:

HAHA POLL WHORE 0.069767441860465 7.0% [ 3 ]
Rain 0.41860465116279 41.9% [ 18 ]
Poison 0.11627906976744 11.6% [ 5 ]
Painting Prompts (I post several paintings that you can choose from to inspire poetry/prose) 0.11627906976744 11.6% [ 5 ]
Parrots 0.093023255813953 9.3% [ 4 ]
Sun 0.023255813953488 2.3% [ 1 ]
Dolls 0.13953488372093 14.0% [ 6 ]
Trees 0.023255813953488 2.3% [ 1 ]
Total Votes:[ 43 ]
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Welcome to Carousel's Butterfly Contest!


Table of Contents

1: You are here
2: About the Contest
3: Prizes
4: Entries

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About the Contest
[Last edit: 4/12/2008]

Hello, hello! Welcome to my second writing contest! The theme this time around is Butterflies.

Your entry does not have to be about butterflies-- although I certainly wouldn't mind if it was-- but it does have to have butterflies in it at some point. This is very open for me: you could have a 10,000 word story and only mention butterflies once, in one scene, when a couple characters see and discuss them.

There is no entry fee.

There are two sections to enter: Poetry and Prose. You may submit one entry to either one or both, but no more than one to each section.

There is no word minimum or maximum for entries, but a two word poem probably won't make it too far in the judging. blaugh

Post your entries in the thread, if you don't mind. If you want to, it's alright to PM them to me.

The deadline for entries is Saturday, May 17.


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Prizes
[Last edit: 5/22/2008]

Poetry

1st: The newest evolving item in the Cash shop at the time that prizes are awarded.
2nd: 5,000g
3rd: 2,500g
Honorable Mentions: 500g

Prose

1st: The newest evolving item in the Cash Shop at the time that prizes are awarded.
2nd: 5,000g
3rd: 2,500g
Honorable Mentions: 500g
Poetry Results
There were so many good entries, I changed the prizes a bit. We had a tie for 3rd place and I added several Honorable Mentions, each of which will get 500g.

First place for Poetry is WishingBunny's lovely entry!

WishingBunny


"Fly High"

Those wings of tinted glass
    Amber,
    Orange,
    Sienna,
    Cerise,

Whisk away
    Dazzling,
    Spinning,
    Whizzing,
    Whirling

And dance in the wind
    Waltzes,
    Sashays,
    Freestyle,
    Frolics

Those wings of tinted glass
Whisk away and dance in the wind
So blithely with every ounce of
Morals floundering in the wind--
Fly high
B u t t e r f l y.


Second place goes to Mika252!

Mika252

AIDS Brand

Ugly
Short black hair, big dark eyes.
A petite body, a small mouth, a porcelain face.
A small body, a young age.
Such a vivacious little girl,
With a an irresistible smile.
But to others she is ugly,
Despite being a normal little girl.
She is not worthy of adoring looks,
Motherly doting,
Or a father’s protection.
She is ugly.

Monster
Is what the people whisper about her.
She’s infectious to the touch,
A spawn of evil.
Don’t be fooled by the appearance,
Don’t touch her,
Or risk damaging the family name.
It’s a matter of pride that she is branded,
A matter of society,
No matter how much she never asked to be born that way.
She is a monster.

Cocoon
Machines and tubes surround her.
People in white coats rush in and out of her room.
But she is slowly, slowly changing.
The pain in her body is slowly receding.
This physical body is but a shell,
A cocoon for her ultimate change for freedom.
And as that heart monitor slows down…
It’s almost over…almost over…
The little girl thinks frantically, feeling light,
It’s…over.
The flat line sounds the end of the metamorphosis.

Wings
Her body is lighter,
She has wings,
Wings of a bird,
Wings of a butterfly just born,
Wings to fly away.
Over the smoke and smog of Saigon she flies.
Over the roar of the motorcycle.
She goes to a place beyond the words of “monster” that brand her.
She goes beyond the dark room she was imprisoned in.
She is no longer a devil’s spawn,
But she is pure, as pure as any little girl is.
She flies to a place of joy founded only after life,
A place where no one knows the word that brands...


Third place goes to A Fading Image and Sennen No Yuki!

A Fading Image

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Curiosity killed the cat,
But satisfaction brought it back.
There's eight lives left,
Now let's keep track.

The cat goes off,
Curious as can be.
He ventures forth,
What will he see?

Curious now,
Of what love is.
He dives on in,
It should be his.

A deafening yowl,
It's pierced his heart.
One more life,
Ripped off the chart.

Another down,
Seven are left.
His heart the victim,
Of violent theft.

His heart once flew free,
It soared through the sky.
It used to be pretty,
A young butterfly.

Now the cat is more cautious,
His heart is held back.
But he is yet still curious,
And he follows the track.

He ponders now,
Should he stand up and fight?
He's always been silent,
Ignored what was right.

So kitty stands tall,
And voices aloud.
Heads turn and face him,
He's angered the crowd.

They all beat him down,
He's now fully broken.
And another lost life,
Is his "victory" token.

So he's lost yet another,
And he only has six.
But curiosity's addicting,
One of his awkward ticks.

He was very intelligent,
And still remained hip.
But then he adventured,
And tried the cat n**.

He wanted to know,
And he found out quite soon,
That all of the drugs,
Could not be a boon.

Now there goes his brain,
His life falters too.
He's ruined again,
Now what to do.

Just go with the fifth,
And find what's in store.
Try something new,
And don't be a bore.

He finds the wrong cats,
And now is their sheep.
He does what they say,
Without even a peep.

They teach him of crime,
He gets deep in the plot.
He murders and steals,
And now he gets shot.

Curiosity satisfied,
He knows something new.
He's been pretty stupid,
This much is true.

It's now his fourth life,
This one he will save.
So many went down,
So much life he just gave.

He now remains cautious,
And doesn't quite try.
He peeks over his shoulder,
Afraid he might die.

Poor little kitty,
He's been so carefree.
A little too reckless,
And now where is he?

There is a lesson,
But not to live lame.
Curiosity can be good,
As long as sense is your game.

As long as you're smart,
You still should have fun.
Just don't waste your life,
Humans only have one.


Sennen No Yuki

Life Lives To Dreams End

Discreet tremble of the air;
sweetness of a sword sharp and fair.
The soft whisper of paper-thin blades,
coming alive as rugged armor fades.
A splash of twilight
with a kiss of midnight.

Kaleidoscope of colors, hypnotizing the mind;
spiral of ribbons dancing through the wind.
A subtle temptation across wind-blown cheeks,
a formless treasure disillusions seek.
Colors fade into rainbows so tragic,
filling widened eyes with illusions of magic.

Laughter of adolescence, a golden cage;
before the hidden beauty of turbulent age.
The world explodes into a brilliant sunrise,
ambitious eyes swallowing boundless skies.
Shoot into the blue with twisted directions;
gingerly fluttering, but forgetting inhibitions.

Roam free with dreams of tomorrow,
before wings are drowned by truths of sorrow.


Our Honorable Mentions of the Poetry half of this contest go to Houkito, Argent Tirer, and MustangDragon.

Houkito

That Beautiful Thing

That thing
That bug
The way it wriggles
The way it crawls
So pitiful
So ugly
It will die anyway

That shape
That color
It's hanging from a tree
Outside my window
I leave it be
It will die anyway

That flutter
That gust
It flies from its home
I feel a little sad
Something so beautiful
Will die anyway


Argent Tirer
Cocoon Prison


Hanging from the eaves
And the leaves in the trees

Waiting with anticipation
For the time to come

For the bell to ring
Singling the release

Waiting for the time
When finally I shall

Break free of
My cocoon prison


MustangDragon
A Remnant of Beauty


I love the way they dip in flight,
Zig-zag as they head for wherever
It is that butterflies need to go.
He loves them too, stares at them forever

As he crouches in the grass, eyes large,
Tail trembling. Oh, you can see his desire.
His glance darts from one to another,
Until finally one of them sets him on fire.

Up he springs, gives a mighty leap
And snatches the beauty out of the sky.
Poor butterfly, now food for my cat,
A canape, a little snack, and I give a sigh.

Beautiful creature, come to such an end!
My cat turns and looking smug, trots my way.
He's got an extra whisker, not white like his others.
It's an antenna, all that remains of his beautiful prey.



User Image
Entries
[Last edit: 5/20/2008]

Poetry
1 _insert witty theme here_ [page 2] whee
2 Houkito [page 1] whee
3 akwila [page 1] whee
4 MyMeteora81 [page 1] whee
5 warewolfalchemist [page 2] whee
6 xxFadedxMemoryxx [page 2] whee
7 jsd173 sweatdrop
8 Downs-of-the-Soul [page 3] whee
9 LucyXNightmare [page 3] whee
10 MustangDragon [page 4] whee
11 Slowly Falling Away [page 4] whee
12 dark-flre alchemist [page 5] whee
13 milzyPENGU [page 5] whee
14 MinorHeaven [page 6] whee
15 BloodlessSoulWolf [PM] whee
16 Sennen no Yuki [page 8] whee
17 RI4LL3 [page 8] whee
18 nekobutterfly [page 8] whee
19 Evelyn w h o [page 9] whee
20 noMintheletterI [page 10] whee
21 Rains On Friday [page 10] whee
22 vegetablarianism [page 10] whee
23 A Fading Image [page 11] whee
24 Argent Tirer [page 10] whee
25 WishingBunny [page 11] whee
26 Mika252 [page 11] whee
27
28
29
30

Prose

1 naruto_RP_girl [page 1] whee
2 FriendofFoes [page 1] whee
3 Iconic Liberation [PM] whee
4 b u r s t OF o r a n g e sweatdrop
5 WolfMaidenTwilight [page 4] whee
6 Meepels [page 8] whee
7 jsd173 sweatdrop
8 s a d i s t cupcake sweatdrop
9 Lucky_Puppy [page 3] whee
10 preseac [page 4] whee
11 Kisa Tsuki sweatdrop
12 sometimes broken [page 4] whee
13 X-Icky_Thump-Xx [page 5] whee
14 Sophist [page 6] whee
15 Mika252 [page 6] whee
16 Sennen no Yuki sweatdrop
17 Tenterhooks [page 8] whee
18 Pretty Lettuce [page 8] whee
19 Mia Kasuma sweatdrop
20 Anushax [page 9] whee
21 zhangyefei [page 9] whee
22 DaBonster [page 10] whee
23 Jasper Riddle [page 10] whee
24 Adara Wolfe sweatdrop
25 vegetablarianism [page 10] whee
26 Lyana_Hoo [page 11] whee
27 Symphonica [page 12] whee
28 Snowing~Star [page 11] whee
29 WishingBunny [page 11] whee
30

Entry Promised: sweatdrop
Entry Submitted: whee

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Now Open!

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By Meepels:

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By Splattered_Ink:

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Ello! I'll get my post in as soon as possible! It will be a prose (Even though I have never written one, I am going to try.) I'll put it up tonight! I might put in a Poem as well, since I love writing poetry, even though I'm no good at it. Give me some time, and it will be up!
My entry.

- - -

That Beautiful Thing

That thing
That bug
The way it wriggles
The way it crawls
So pitiful
So ugly
It will die anyway

That shape
That color
It's hanging from a tree
Outside my window
I leave it be
It will die anyway

That flutter
That gust
It flies from its home
I feel a little sad
Something so beautiful
Will die anyway
Mary had a little lamb.. Whose fleece was white as snow..



I have a poem for you.
biggrin
Tee-hee.



Stupid fucking lamb.. Go baaaah somewhere else..
A Dream is a Dream.
MyMeteora81.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I stare above and wonder why
Life just seems to pass me by
Time escapes, I don't even try
Oh, if I were a butterfly.

What a venture it would be
To travel the land and cross the sea
There's no one else, it's only me
Oh, if I were a butterfly.

The sun would shine with rays of grace
Casting in shadow half of my face
It'd never work with wings of lace
Oh, if I were a butterfly.

There'd be no worry, nor a care
I'd be too merry with life so fair
Fluttering on without despair
I am a butterfly.

And yet so soon my time has come
My life it ends with lack of glum
My speed suffices with the drum
Oh, I'm not a butterfly.

I still stare up into the sky
I still stare up and wonder why
My life still seems to pass me by
I wish I were a butterfly.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's a creature of the wind.
That lovely and lofty soul,
that raptures me in sweet serenade.
I quickly become lost in this,
a muse I've long forgotten.

Joyously, I become ensconced,
with every passing flit and flutter.
All the happy colors,
whizzing gleefully around my head,
rousing begotten thoughts.

Then, when completely inebriated by true beauty,
I think of things lost to me;
happiness, sadness, and love.
Things I've so carelessly done the injustice
of totally suppressing.

Slowly the memories...the feelings,
flood gently to mind;
flowing like soft silk.
Memories of him...
Memories of her...

All as sweet and gentle,
as tears of the April skies.
A deluge of wonder,
warm and enchanting;
I am lost.

All things become a blur.
My thoughts are a slave to its tempo.
Life halts and speeds around me.
What is this?
No doubt some kind of magic.

Oh, sweet butterfly
a fickle soul though you are,
will you not stay?
Stay with me, despite my flaws?
Despite my sin?

For we can sit and and play
the games I've long since forgot.
A creature so placid and ambrosial,
a beauty unequivocally matched.
Let's become friends again, and live some more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


this is one of my poems that i spliced up to fit the theme

^___^
As the wind circled around my head, my mind was filled with everything that went wrong today. I was sitting in the tall grass, looking out at the field that was ahead of me. That is where everything took place; where everything went wrong. I wouldn’t even look at him anymore, I just couldn’t. Even though he was my older brother, he didn’t have to what he did for me. Now it was just hard to look at him.

But what happened was something terrible; something that will hopefully never be repeated again. My choices led him to this fate, and put me in this state of mind. My heart was beating hurriedly, and my breathing became rapid even thinking about it. Even though this makes no since to you at this time now, it will sooner or later.

In the field at about 3:00, I was walking towards my house with my boyfriend, James. He was tall with dirty blond hair, and the face of a model. But he wasn’t very mature. In the field, he kept trying to do things to me that made me uncomfortable. I asked him to stop repeated times, but he wouldn’t. I walked to my car, which I had only been driving for a week now, and had just received my license. I got in, and turned on the engine so I could get away. But he also got in on the other side, and stopped me from driving away. We were only a couple for two weeks, and we weren’t very serious yet. But he reached for my shirt, and started to pull it over my head. Then, Alex came out. And that’s his mistake.

He reached into the car and pulled me out. Alex was very strong and protective over me. I wish that I could have changed what happened next, but I couldn’t. Alex reached in and pulled me out. When James saw what happened, he had hopped out of the car and pulled out a gun. Bam, bam, bam. Three shots to the stomach. James ran away, and left me there with him. He looked terrible. So I finally found the courage to call someone without having to cry into the phone too much.

So As I sit here, I recognize something flying around me. The butterflies. They are all so free spirited and beautiful. Just like Alex. They made me realize how lucky I was for him to be there. As their beauty showed, It also reminded me about how strong Alex was.

So just like a butterfly, I broke out of the state of mind, just like a butterfly in a cocoon. I knew how lucky I was, and I knew that he would make it. The ambulance driver even told me that he would be ok. So, as the butterflies swirled around me, I thanked them for helping me in my time of need, for they saved me from the sad state of mind I was in.


Ok, I hope that is good. Its the prose, or I think thats what it is...I hope that is a prose, because Ive never written one..
Mary had a little lamb.. Whose fleece was white as snow..



Woo.
biggrin
I liked your poem akwila.
^.^



Stupid fucking lamb.. Go baaaah somewhere else..
FriendofFoes's avatar
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Uhh.... Hi.... redface I would like to enter. I have my prose entry all ready. At least, from where I stand it's prose sweatdrop . I can never tell the difference. xDD

Please understand this statement before reading: I am not racist, never been called racist, and never dislike someone due to race. In this prose, I am yelling at racism and how horrible it is. Thank you...


I tap the plastic container in Mrs. Murray’s room, watching as the butterfly flies around its small cage. I look over at the similar one, seeing the moth flying as well. Mrs. Murray says its easy now to tell the difference between the two, but before, it wasn’t.

Perhaps I should tell you about myself. I still need to be polite. My name is Samantha Clover, but you can call me Sam. Everyone in my class does. I’m six years old and my best friend is Brianna. But, she’s not like me. Well, she’s not white like I am. She’s black. But, she’s the best person you’ll ever meet. Her parents are nice too! They always make me feel right at home whenever I need it, especially when I spend the night at her house.

But then, something weird happened two weeks ago. Brianna and I were playing kickball with my other friend, Jason, when Jason’s dad came to pick him up. He was all smiles until he saw Brianna. I heard him asked about why a black girl was here and if they didn’t kick her out, Jason wouldn’t be coming back. So far, Jason hasn’t been back. He was a good friend. It was because of what happened that our project happened.

Mrs. Murray brought in two plastic containers and told us one was a butterfly while one was a moth. Then, she told us to tell her which was which. After two weeks, we saw the difference. But, I still think, there is none.

Maybe the moth is just cold, or like furry clothing, whiles the butterfly like summer clothing. And perhaps the moth is like Grandma, who likes ugly colors, like black and grey, while the butterfly likes bright colors on its wings.

I really don’t see the difference between the two. I also don’t see the difference between me and Brianna except our skin color. We both like pretty pony and like dressing in purple dresses. We both drink from Dora cups and dance like Barbie.

So, what’s the difference?

I stare closely as the moth flies closer to the butterfly’s cage and the butterfly stays put. Why won’t the butterfly say hi to the moth? It’s just trying to be nice. I frown at it.

I lean my head down on my arms as I think about it some more. Both Butterfly’s and Moths are the same. They both start out little, then they turn into a cocoon – well, at least that what they call it for the butterfly – and then they come out, ready to fly.

So, then, what is the big difference? What is so different that it makes us hate each other?

A hand on my shoulder shocks me. It’s Mrs. Murray.

“Sam,” She says, “Would you and Brianna like to let our project free?”

My eyes open wide as I say, “Yes, Mrs. Murray!”

She picks up the container holding the butterfly and said, “Wait for Brianna.” I nod as Mrs. Murray calls for Brianna and asks her the same question, then hands her the moth’s container.

She leads us outside, and, together, we set them free. I smile as both the moth and the butterfly fly off to the other side of the yard. Brianna and Mrs. Murray go back in, and I follow, but not until I see something. It was the moth and the butterfly, landing on the same daisy, right next to each other.

We are the same, just like the moth and the butterfly…

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