Techo_Nirate_Bunny
(?)Community Member
- Posted: Fri, 08 Jun 2007 07:17:50 +0000
Welcome to the world of Pyromania, I am you hostess and judge Techno_Nitrate_Bunny. I, along with 4 other volunteers, will be the ones to critique your poetry or short story and give you a fair rating on your writing…
I’m an indeed one who suffers from Pyromania, personally I get captured in the perfection of the flames. The reason I decided to start this contest because I’m intrigued to see how many of you can transmit the idea of mass destruction using fire into a poetic state.
My challenge for you to use a collaboration of information collected from the web sites I gave you, personal experiences (if any), and the prompts & imagery I will provide for you to create a poem or a short story that portrays the Pyromania in a realistic way.
This is a rather challenging contest but what is the point of joining if you aren’t challenged.
I’m an indeed one who suffers from Pyromania, personally I get captured in the perfection of the flames. The reason I decided to start this contest because I’m intrigued to see how many of you can transmit the idea of mass destruction using fire into a poetic state.
My challenge for you to use a collaboration of information collected from the web sites I gave you, personal experiences (if any), and the prompts & imagery I will provide for you to create a poem or a short story that portrays the Pyromania in a realistic way.
This is a rather challenging contest but what is the point of joining if you aren’t challenged.
This is an example as to what I am looking for....
Imagery: smiling faces warped within the flames.
Prompt: Is this a crime.
“ No, no it can’t be, nothing this beautiful and go against the human law. I am mealy sharing everlasting beauty with a world to blind to see the absolute magnificence of such a powerful thing.
Prompt: Oh such a fixation.
“Such a beauty, the flames of yellow and orange with shimmering red. Its so, so charming the flames as the dance on the whispers of moon beams.”
I chose one image and two prompts to create the poem below.
With Scent of Butane
I am not the violin!
Nor am I the one to cast the first stone.
It is not I who had done deeds of grinning demons,
Warped out in a twisted display of my perfection.
This is my world and true desire, scorching my insides.
Yes, heating my throbbing heart
I've done nothing wrong
Simply did I try and share beauty of passionate destruction.
Godly power brought down to mere mortals who look down on me!
They cannot understand this glowing flame
And for this they shall live in ignorance.
It’s a ******** three Rings Circus doom to collided,
Head on with a swirling masquerade of rotting decay and sin.
Following this horrid congregation of human disgust
Is the melancholic tune of sobbing angels; it will cast its self upon the world.
Striking down all that have sinned with out proper excuse!
And only with this tune will they understand.
All the fatuous bastards that looked down on me will finally glance trough my eyes.
Where they will see the gleaming flame as I do, and know it’s sweet temperate motions.
This is my passion, what I thrive for: the power, the beauty, and the destruction.
It’s not I who lives forever searching for the next cheap thrill!
I am not like them for they will never understand all that is held in the flame of a burning match…
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