Challenge 101 - Douse
 

In response to me seeing Kayo Dot this weekend.


Douse also dowse
v. doused, also dowsed dous·ing, dows·ing dous·es, dows·es
v. tr.

1. To plunge into liquid; immerse. See Synonyms at dip.
2. To wet thoroughly; drench.
3. To put out (a light or fire); extinguish.

v. intr.

To become thoroughly wet.
n.

A thorough drenching.

2.It Walks Only To Be Reborn.2

It walks, gracefully
It performs, dutifully
Yet its stare remains empty
With no capacity for emotion
The steel remains cold
Therein lies a slave
not a soul
It is time to replay this role of god
Extinguish its flame
Only to be doused again in a new oil
Recconect wires to form a new mainframe
One with the capacity to feel
But without the desire
The ability to think
But without questioning
Thus bringing heat to these eyes
Electicity flows now like blood
with wires like veins
This shell found a spirit
Avoiding a purpose

(please refrence to this [url]http://www.musicianforums.com/forums/showthread.php?t=430674[/url]
For the first part)

[B]Boy with Lyre Forms Liaison[/B]

“Shave your baby’s chin
And set it on my breast”
Listen to you weave
Boisterously in fields alone
Fingers quick and soft
Beckoning love incarnate

To touch you
Is to touch a star
Awe stricken in dark
Under a bed of praising eyes

Love or worship
Words are all similes
When you’re voice
Douses me numb
My limbs are mere trinkets
To your craft

Hair raising glaze
On your flaccid back
Temple of flesh
Loosened with a prayer

Kiss me under Grecian skies
And let our hunger devour fidelity

Hey This is my first entry into this competition, I'm not sure exactly if this works but I'm assuming that you just have to incorporate the word into your submission? Anyways let me know please if this is appropriate thanks!!!

Question

There’s a hole in my heart.
And it will not let me be.
Dark, the beast’s burden carried
The Black reaches out for me
I’m getting my release
Focused like a flame
And yet its always there
My underlying pain.

A hole in body and in soul
My time it nears at hand
And so I Light my funeral Pyre
My eternal presence damned.
And all that is left of me
My hopes dreams and desires
Smolders like the remaining ashes
Of a winter night’s fire.
The chilling hand douses the embers
My Leo is taken away.
Flowing downwards in streams of dark
Ashes and teardrops tainted with gray
It’s grasp embraces and leads me
On my journey to find,
the final adventure comes in death
and rebirth in unending time.
Slowly it pulls and takes without giving
Snatching my hold from the ground.
And what’s left is a deep sense of longing
And faded memories not found.

A beginning of an ending enveloped in mystery
The everlasting question remaining unanswered
Now it’s my turn to ask and receive
For behind the black curtain is mine to perceive.
The underlying truth.
To the unanswered question
One last glimpse at reality
My existence into regression.

I'll try and submit a piece for this.

HIERARCHY

Superstition hangs in boding
Guards the road with morning crows
Esoteric mystic chanting
Minds eye apprehension grows
Questions asked with answers pending
Sweat slips freely from knotted brows
Mist enshrouds lost souls salvation
Entombs the fantasists strangled yell

Embrace the child growing, smiling
Holding on,forever wanting
Eschew the old man lonely, dying
One eye on the chasm, looming
Chimney smoke that’s gently wafting
Stretched transparent on winter winds

Obscured scenarios in clouded visions
Nothing moves but space and time
Ribbons of a hue cascading
From depths extenuation blinds
Always holding on for something
The center of the universe
Through fingers clenched in desperate trembling
The last chance given disappears

See the future dawning, shining
Holding on, forever wanting
See the enigma forming, dousing
Lost upon the road, bending
Spoken words of velvet guile
Stretched transparent on winter winds

Coalescence thought and matter
The verve of sound that ever blends
Wholly tired standing weakly
Framed beliefs no one defends

[B]My Wife, the Arsonist[/B]

I have a tendency to start fires when my hands get cold
I don’t lose any sleep
Because my fingers feel so warm against my face
While I’m burning sheep

I used to hate how that cigarette accentuated your lips
Now I’m the one with smoke between my finger tips

In a dream state, like Arizona, when your throat is parched
I dance with gasoline
And keep a set of matches in my pocket for persuasion
Now what were you saying?

Lean closer to the flames
And kiss me when I exhale your name

If you walk away, I’ll drop this match
And set the whole city ablaze
Unless you can douse the innocent
I suggest that you stay

The smokestacks smoldered the bad news
With the stench of frustration, just like I did to you

I'll try to avoid sucking this week.

[B]Hidden Under Perfection[/B]

Never been here before, inside this hearth
The ashes I consume will burn my lungs
Douse the flame, have my heart, for you have won
Skin burning red, marred red giant at birth

Every piece of sand
Out of line and form
Distorts the grandeur
Of the shape of glass

Elliptical views feed upon my mind
Torment my brain, as the pendulum swings
I’ve waited this long to hear the bell ring
So why the muffled sound? It seems to grind

Yeah, okay.

This be my first entry into these competitions. I hope it follows the rules. If not, please notify me and I'll change whatever there is that is unfit.

[B]Gone Tomorrow[/B]

doused once again
absinthe and fire
sugar so dire
your lips moved before
red left through the door

I hate to see you leave like this
I've yet to steal from you a kiss

jet engine rumble
skies of thunder
lost and sunder
your hand waved again
gray tears in the rain

I hate to see you leave like this
I've yet to steal from you a kiss

bitter grapefruit juice
morning of tomorrow
i write in sorrow
pen my passion down
blue ink writes a noun

I hope to see you once again,
until then, goodbye my friend.

Latez0rz

probably.

I'll Pick You Up In Fifteen...Don't Forget The Gasoline.
 

So I heard somewhere someone say,
That you'll be seceding down and out,
Like your pants and breasts respectively,
For the last but not the first time.
And all you can say for yourself,
Is that it's not a crime to be loose with lips,
But whose to assume what you do won't go unchecked.
Know that I notice every desperate,
Grasp for attention and find affection,
In every deliberately scattered action.

They call me minute man for a reason,
And it's not for my performance.
It's for my long term experience,
With these second place finish statistics.
If theres sixty seconds in a minute,
I'll show you what it's like go through an hour.

Be docile for just a day,
So you can see the way things go,
Doesn't have to be up in smoke.
I've tread on hostile grounds for some time,
Now it's your turn to step on off whites,
Unless you want your pearly ones to be,
Recorded in order to determine identity.

"Car fires aren't all too common in the woods"
"What can I say officer? I doused her in gasoline.
One of us was bound to go up eventually."
"But unforunately for you, arson is a crime,
And so is murder."
"I promise I didn't mean to hurt her. I guess,
She sparked a rage in me I couldn't put out."

Yes.

[b]To Forget Life's Beauty[/b]

We've dowsed ourselves in circumstance
And focused on each ever-shifting second;
We've taken time to count the sands
In hourglasses, while the hands
Of ticking clocks and watches always beckon.

We've buried ourselves in the papers
And glanced upon the controversial stories;
We've seen the crimes, the births and deaths
The coupling and the epithets
That lead us to forget our given glory.

We've slaved over the dirt and coal
And wrought our towers from the untilled soil;
We build our hopes and dreams upon
The buildings that we've labored on,
In hopes that neither sand nor stone will spoil.

We've hurt ourselves and those we love
And danced over every broken possession;
We craft our rhymes, our notes and art,
We write of how our sordid hearts
Are broken with each non-lasting impression.

Yet in each man and woman lies
A truth under our clouded eyes,
That beyond our minds' sweet alibis
We defy the nothingness within
All of our simple
Impossible lives.

I salvage the moss, she gathers the stone.

I stole a drop of gin the way windblown trees do. Unhurried,
Unsettling the dust that gathers at the pit
of a stomach sobered up and linger
free upon every waking thought. I am reminded of China,
some faraway film you inhabit under a crowded noon that breaks
a few hours too early for wine. Let every drop burn
your insides, that soothing machine you've come to call
your own.

I dowsed my hunger with penance the way I've seen monks, resolute,
purge their shallows with thoughts of love -
Every heave a tender kiss, every hurt two loving arms beside.
I am reminded of China, some faraway film
you inhabit with thoughts of your own, grown alone
in rice-fields ankle deep and reeking of regret, the planting
of the seed, that soothing machine you've come to call
your own.

And light-years away, the wind picks its way through
grass, wavering at every step. If my words
ever come to you from the sound of the rain,
you know I'll have loved you less.

[b]Every Word[/b]

Every song I write is a love song to hate
Every song I sing is a hate song I love
Every song I write that is about the land below
Ends up being every song about the up above

Every song I write carefree just fills up with tension
Every song I write about living concerns itself with death
Every song I sing with passion is spoken carefully
Every song I sing shouted is with a breathless breath

Every song I write solemn is a song of mirth
Every song I write waves crashing sits calmly in a lull
Every song I write that cocks a trigger at the world
Ends up an every song bullet blown out of the back of its skull

Every song I write lonesome is one busy with friends
Every song I write as satire only satirises itself
Every song I sing calmly is doused in impotent rage
Every song I know will work languishes upon the shelf

Every song I write on paper remains an empty page
Every song I do not write, I write 10000 times
Every song I write that cuts through its target swiftly
Ends up every song blunted within the first few lines

Every song I write I forget is remembered by another
Every song I write as suggestion is taken as a directive
Every song I write cynical is only innocence
Every song I sing for children is profanity-strewn invective

Every song I sing bitter is a spoonful of sugar
Every song I write for the now has the message: This is then
Every song I write complete that is perfect and utter
Ends up every song torn up on every flaw as I go back and start again

I shall..

I'm lost without you here by my side
Counting the seconds till your return
Feels as if my very soul has died
Within bitter flames my heart burns

Never again will I be free
From the inferno that only you can douse
Forever thinking of what could be
Within myself these emotions I house

To my fate, I give in
But my essence will not rest
I will always think of what could have been
Though this may have been for the best.....

[B]Bloodsport Cheaters[/B]

We will douse this story in the flame
we once lit for our cigarettes. I take in a deep nicotene imbued breath
and plunge into the beckoning pool as the lure
of the loose change below tickles my curiosity.

This plot thickens like early days. Sunny days
are made for planning. How much lay at the bottom only God knows.
He always checks His every penny with sinners and lovers.
But I've made my aim to be resolute for my swinging arm.
To find a way to reach below.

Minutes pass and the supervisor will lose his job.
And I will lose my life as only now I realise:
Clever enough to to open the door but not enough
to close it. My mind wanders like a cloud shape shifting
in ambiguity. The trick was in the hinges.

Only God knows. And He can't tell a living soul.

And I'm dead.

(First entry, any tips would be greatly appreciated)
"The Inferno That Is You"

I'm not much more than this smoking wreck,
charred and burnt and twisted up
the way you left me inside is
much the same

And all I want this one last time
is for you to lean over me
blood spattered face, cruel lips weeping
and douse the embers of me in tears

I'm nothing more than a pile of ashes
and you are the forest fire that tore through me
singeing, searing, a white hot blast
that has me begging for what I do not want

And you're the reason I'm not happy when I dream
but at least I'm not sad when I'm asleep
your breath a fiery blast
that burned my life in a red hot passion

And as I breath my final breath
I could swear that it was smoke
and you may say that it was merely
the vapors of my breath, obvious in the cold

But its the fire of you
burning in this writhing corpse
smoking, yet, the oil spill
that tainted my soul

Conclusions (Unbound in Ruby)

The annihilation of vindication
Slithers from your tongue.
A confrontation of collaboration
Turns a rose (its soul) to rum.

And the expectations of anatomization
Are convergent towards my note.
A sea, a sign, a prolonged cry,
Say “Beware of asymptotes.”

Where’s this room where women come and go,
Talking of Michelangelo?
A sea, a sign of prolonged cries
Tell tales of a Harlem cove.

The dramatization of a fool’s potation,
The circuit breaker in a TV station,
The annihilation of your vindication,
They could douse this rose in rum.
The complications of united nations,
While fathoms deep in peroration,
And the expectations of anatomization
Could make one “jump the gun.”

Where’s this room where women come and go,
Talking of Michelangelo?
A sea, a sign of prolonged cries
Tell tales of a ruby road.


*This piece makes a direct reference to "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot

Closed.