Collaboration contest winners

Jan 12, 201225 min read

Deviation Actions

TreeLovers

MirachRavaia

Published: Jan 12, 2012

735 Views

This is the feature of winners of the contest held by our affiliate

COLLABORATION CONTEST
1st place
&

:thumb274866004: Dziady - poem
Ancestors, forefathers
Hear my voice, come
Accept the offerings
Brought by your sons
Unrestful spirits, ghosts
Bound to this world
Come to the cleansing flame
In the night's cold
Bonds of hate, bonds of grief
Shed and be free
Find your place in the roots
Of the World Tree

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2nd place
&

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ravens thought of poe"Never more" the raven said
But thinking never left his head
Weaving words and shadow speak
Feather follows toe...eye follows beak
shadows cast
backwards from future
into past.
But thinking never left his head
Feather follows toe... eye follows beak
Buried deep once thought secret
From  the gloom a silent fear
time's fey form
calmly contorted
by will's whim.
Buried deep once thought secret
Scratching at the chamber door
Candle hissing on the mantle
Eagerly consuming moths
attrition
sedately eating
its own tail.
Scratching at the chamber door
Locked within, and twice once more
Tis' finished now, the past is dead
"Never more" the raven said mother autumnshe
is the year as matron.
her
prime wanes as her wisdom waxes.
she bids us,
"ingather;
the light is ceding supremacy
so darkness may hold its cold court.
this cycle must run its full length,
and we have our roles to play."
her shawl of leaves,
a cascade of scarletrussetgold,
hangs from shoulders thin but still strong;
she ushers us inside that haven
against the cold. meditation on 'tabula rasa'tabula rasa
empty me of everything.
purge me of all thought.
drain away my will to live.
deny me what is sought.
remove my need to flee this place
and seek a higher ground.
remain me in the valley where
i'm damned and sure to drown.
vacate the warehouse of my soul.
deplete my store of hope.
take from me my artifice
and the ways, with life, i cope.
                                      1990
'remain me in the valley
where i'm damned and sure to drown.'
i've been shown a different tally,
perception's turned around.
where i am damned and sure to drown:
up in the heights, choking on air,
perception's  turned around.
i seek retreat to Mother's lair.
up in the heights, choking on air,
there is no purchase, no respite.
i seek retreat to Mother's lair:
the only refuge from this plight.
there is no ghost storystored energy,
emotion:
a memory
in motion.
emotion
sets circumstance
in motion:
veiled countenance.
sets circumstance
in venue:
veiled countenance
cold through you.
in venue,
a memory.
cold through you
stored energy.

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Mature Content

Pine LeafI am a proud daughter of the
A'aninin, but when my years
as a child were all but spent,
I was taken by the Crow.
The Crow adopted me, and
in time I grew to see their
blood as my blood.  Their
home is my home, their
ways are my ways, and
their enemies are my
enemies.
I became a warrior, a
mighty two-spirit.  I kept
many horses, and I hunted
with the men of my tribe.
Together with my brothers,
I fought the Blackfoot.  I
was bold enough to perform
feats in battle, and I am
wise enough now to know
that killing one hundred
men by my own hand will
not prove me brave.
I am wise enough now to
see the brotherhood of the
tribes, and the beauty of
the land.  Counting coup
does not inspire my heart
as it did in my youth.  I
have become a respected
chief among the Crow,
and I have four wives,
as beautiful as running
deer.  The chief of the
Dog clan, James, a
mountain man, wanted
me for his wife, but I
have wives of my own,
and SunUnafraid of the rainwater
    her heart is like a lion;
like a warrior

  She dances around in a
parking lot
  and through my mind
ever after
on cloudy days and
     sunny days after-the-rain
Each visit makes her
smile a little brighter
She might be weary,
    she might be worn
but her spirit is full of light
  She dances and holds
everyone
  as if in orbit
cycling through weeks
the storms a small ordeal
     next to her grace
The night is worth it
to see her rise in the morning Those Cursed FeetMiserable soul,
wandering the moor
of tomorrow's bleak
horizon,
come home,
wander no more.
It has been a long road,
and you are so weary.
You are burdened
beyond belief
by the cares
of words and worries.
A nightmare duels
your every fantasy.
Miserly wreck
of a human being,
you cannot share love
or light anymore.
You see nothing
but the emptiness
of your hope.
Miserable soul,
come home, wander
no more.
Forgive them
for never understanding;
learn to love
what is never yours.
Learn to live
without yearning to die:
The void, the abyss,
it offers no shelter-
Find shelter in the
sunbeams of an
afternoon,
on the fresh grass in Spring,
beneath the trees
as Summer turns
to Autumn.
Find shelter
in small kindnesses.
Miserable soul,
go home
and be at peace.
It is time you went home.

SOLO CONTEST
1st place
by

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and by

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3rd place
by

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Special prize
:thumb275105324: syth and mymbolthe grand archetypes of myth;
the lexicon of symbols
builds a bridge across the rift
'tween the real and the dissembled.
the lexicon of symbols,
the rosetta stone of souls;
'tween the real and the dissembled
shows the separateness as whole.
the rosetta stone of souls
builds a bridge across the rift;
shows the separateness as whole,
the grand archetypes of myth. Ivory and AmberDarkness warms your bones
against the cold.
The young crescent moon
catches your attention,
holds it firmly.
She dances in the autumn chill,
spinning, gleaming,
mourning summer,
glad for the harvest.
She dances ivory in the autumn rustle
with the fallen amber leaves
as they circle her.
Night deepens, and she flows across the sky.
Around you, the empty field
is a backdrop for the leaves
painting the world in vibrant death.
Next year, they will feed new life.
As the circle begins its end,
you stand and watch
its magnificent
beauty.:thumb272178679:

Quality prize
:thumb274085724: OctoberDreamlight streamlight wandering
Fickle, falling sounds
Pasture laughter following
Jewel-like leaves swirl 'round and 'round
Meadow treading minstrel songs
'Twine with smoke and shimmer on
Apple baskets overrun
Mark the end of season's sun
Pull one and dance among the trees
Sunlight stabbing silver down
Leave the seeds for earth and bees
Humming in the golden crown
Then darkness slips from shadows
Pools along the serpent streams
Rises in the valleys
Its web not always what it seems
Visions ribbon into halflight
Furtive figures flirt with form
The dead are called on Samhain night
By wily siren of Wild Hunt's horn
Dare we care to meet them
Out among their ghostly rounds?
Dare we trick or treat them
Or do we fear they'll pull us down?
copyright J. Shidler 10-2011