Winners of the contest can be found here.
From the riddle posed by King Solomon to the Philistines to the philosophy of riddles put forth by Aristotle to the riddles posed by Gollum to Bilbo Baggins in the Hobbit, riddles have a long and rich history and have often been put forth in rhyme (read more here). Join in the tradition with this contest…
RULES: Write a rhyming riddle of any length and paste it in the comments section below with your name and area of residence, such as “John Smith, Colorado” or “Ian Clark, England.” Do not include the answer. Let people guess and then respond with the answer if no one guesses correctly. Up to three submissions allowed per contestant. The riddles should be newly written for the contest.
SUBMISSION FEE: None
DEADLINE: August 11, 2019, 12 midnight EST. Winners announced August 20, 2019.
PRIZE: $100
JUDGE: Advisory Board Member or selected Member poets will judge. (Those who choose not to participate in judging may participate in the contest)
PAST WINNERS
On your marks . . . get set . . .
A spike is there, but it’s not gold,
Some forests have them, so I’m told.
They cannot cough, but can “ahem,”
And singers have an eye for them.
And when someone pokes fun at you
It’s what they do that makes you blue.
A helpful hint? I told you so!
And that is all you need to know.
The answer wouldn’t by any chance happen to share 3 consecutive letters with your surname, would it?
Rupert, Yes, indeed, it does! I must have made it too obvious! Your clue will no doubt make it easier for everyone else without having given away the store! Well done. I’m still pondering yours. I seem to be better at writing them than figuring them out.
Very clever, Mr Tweedie! Fear not, I was quite stumped the first tim I read it. It was only on my return that it came to me. Another bright spark worked mine out now. I shall write another.
Is it a deer?
Needle? This riddle is really clever!
Camilla, I do believe you’ve got it! ‘ahem’ that’s clever
To those opposed to order new
I bade a merciful adieu
The low and high I equalised
No rank or station recognised
“Revenge” cried them that summoned me
Them too I slew for Liberty
Like them I often rose and fell
And helped to pave the road to Hell
What am I?
Rupert Palmer, South Africa
The guillotine
Quite so. Bravo!
Brilliant, Rupert. I don’t think I would ever have guessed.
Please hold it, though, while I make a pitch for “they” in line 5.
Why thank-you! You’re welcome to pitch all you want, but you shall find me quite immovable on that point. “Them that” is an antique and well-attested construction; take, for example, The Lord’s Prayer in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer translation.
The Queen
The Sherpa named her Chomolungma; the white men didn’t care.
They slandered her with “Everest” and climbed her on a dare.
She was the tallest, queen of all, no other could compare.
Later on the children asked, “Before the queen was found,”
what was the tallest mountain peak upon the world so round?”
And so my riddle ends right here; I’m sure it will confound.
Mickey Kulp, Georgia
Hello Mickey. Is the answer Kangchenjunga?
A technical book answer would include K-2 or Kanchenjunga as likely suspects but perhaps there is a twist to your riddle that leads elsewhere?
Since the earth has a bulge around the equator, the tallest place on earth is Mount Chimborazo in Ecuador. Standing there you are closer to the stars. I assume this answers the reference to the “round” earth. So, Everest is actually about a mile and a half further from “space” than Mount Chimborazo. Everest has been in second place for a long time.
They each need fire to be born;
By some, a fire’s scar is worn.
The fire’s ash helps them to thrive –
Without it, they’d not be alive.
They grow quite tall as well as round;
In the Sierras they are found.
Their shallow roots spread far and wide
And link with others by their side.
The mightiest has a general’s name –
As well as natural acclaim.
Beside them, one feels truly small –
It must strike awe to see one fall.
A Sequoia tree
Yes, specifically the giant sequoia (Sequoiadendron Giganteum)!
Giv’n eyes, some would look up at us.
We tread on them without much fuss.
We love those of impressive size,
While slighting others–not so wise.
A piece of folded wire is food
That people everywhere should eat.
And if you wanted me you could
Procure me from myself—how sweet!
Disfigure, smush me, then I’ll be
More use to you. Does this make sense?
And if you flip a part of me
A horse might take up residence.
You’ve heard that 1+1 is 2.
For everyone but me, that’s true.
But sometimes 1+1 is 1 . . .
At least on paper, when I’m done.
Fodder?
Nope–neither animal nor cannon.
I’m not sure about the 1+1=1 bit, but if one turns the b in “stable” upside-down, one gets “staple”, and that is also something everyone should eat, so I’m hazarding a guess…staple?
Hooray for Avery! The answer is indeed “staple” or, even better, its plural, “staples” (which is also the name of an American office supply retail chain where you can buy staples!) The 1 + 1 thing has to do with paper. Take one sheet of paper, add a second sheet and after the staple is put on (and through) the two pages, they are joined together as one. I anticipated the riddle would be solved by working backwards from “stable.” You proved me correct. Well done!
Wow! Great riddle and great work to figure it out.
Just as fine as your previous, James. Am I right that “eat” means use or consume? And “procure me from myself” means picking a single staple from a conjoined row that would go in the stapler trough? Or am I quite lost?
Julian, I just noticed your post. Yes, “eat” means what it means since it refers to food “staples” such as grains, fruits, and the like. “Procure me from myself” is more obscure–in America there is an office supply store chain called “Staples.” so you can buy staples from Staples.
On a separate note, no one seems to have guessed your own riddle:
Giv’n eyes, some would look up at us.
We tread on them without much fuss.
We love those of impressive size,
While slighting others–not so wise.
I have no idea what the answer might be. Since the contest is over, what is it?
Hi, James
Been distracted the last few days, so just noticed your post to me. Thanks for clueing me in on your riddle. As for my little thing, I meant it not as a riddle but as a cautionary comment on our being in awe of big things–giant sequoias, whales, Bezos’ s wealth etc., etc. The sampling Sequoia here is a stand-in for the millions lost to the failure to see great value in small (human) creatures.
Sorry–
“Sapling,” that should have been.
My favorite pastime is to sleep,
And when awake, I barely creep.
Just like a friend who overstays,
I hang around for days and days.
My given name is quite offensive
To one whose slowness is defensive.
I favor garb of algae-green
With moths aplenty in between.
Who am I?
David Watt, Australia
A sloth
That’s correct Horus. Either the three or two-toed species.
A haven safe I used to be
Now many die here annually
For some on whom they must depend
Betray the charges they defend
There’s not much room for movement free
Nor air to breathe, nor light to see
You too have been here, have no doubt
For none come in, but all go out
What am I?
-Rupert Palmer, South Africa
The womb
Right again! Well done.
Each of you, upon this page,
has posed a riddle for the sage
who likes a little
cogitation.
Each of you has hopes your trope
will make all readers have to cope
with quite a little
consternation.
Like a fast pursuing cop,
when an escapee’s forced to stop,
he hops on him with
dedication.
How are all of you like him?
Mike Bryant, Texas
He, like us, was a con-founder . . . ?
Close, James… I am working on yours… tough one.
I hate to be “close” but not get the cigar. How about con-found or con-founding or con-founded . . . ?
Are we contestants?
Nope, Zachary…
Co-operators?
Detectives?
Not there yet, James…
Contributor?
Nope, sorry Philip.
The answer:
Each of you, including the policeman, has a
conundrum (con und’r ‘em).
It’s a groaner…. ha.
A friend to a flame
And a tree, the same
And hangs on the mention of every name
Zachary Dilks, Texas
Breath?
No, sorry Mike.
Is it air ?
Air is correct, Kushal!
Kudos to you!
Air?
Avery Miller (U.S.A.)
The Three
Canst thou name us? Rhyme the three,
Wraith and rope and rarity.
All that is, thou canst not see,
First sees all with clarity.
Good will ever come to thee,
Second knows with verity.
Though the others cease to be,
Third lives in eternity.
Canst not guess? Our rhyme will be
Wraith, and rope, and rarity.
How about Faith, and Hope, and Charity?
Yes, you are correct! Well done!
You are surely right, David. Excellent work Mr Miller!
Thank you! It’s fun to share a riddle.
Clever and beautiful!
We’re allowed three, so here’s my final riddle:
My first name is a city
And my surname sounds like “swamp.”
When I was young and pretty
I would play all day and romp.
I later became saddled
With a business that I ran.
My rivals became addled
By the turf wars I began.
I always came in early
And was soon a millionaire.
Competitors fell yearly
But I always beat them fair.
I stopped to smell the roses,
In retirement I thrived.
I lived less years than Moses
But grandchildren have survived.
My hay days found me able
To fill grandstands with applause.
Now my legacy is stable,
Can you tell me who I was?
This is so good I’m almost sorry I have the answer (I think): Is it Seattle Slew?
Lol, Philip! Yes, of course it is Seattle Slew. I’m glad you enjoyed the riddle. I had fun writing it.
W.S. Gilbert would have like this!
The only thing that is truly yours
Cannot be found in any stores
You can only find it at birth
And only you know its true worth
It cannot belong to anybody else
After all, it is much too complex
And can only be understood
By its owner since before childhood
And sometimes even you
Don’t have a single clue
About what it’s trying to say
Or trying to display
But when you do know
There is nowhere else to go
Than the path it sets you on
On which you must walk upon
For it must always be obeyed
And its voice cannot fade
Because if you pretend not to hear its cries
Then you yourself will be flooded with lies
Taylor Crosby, Indiana
Conscience?
No, but that is a good guess.
Your name?
No, but that had been my original idea for a riddle.
Is it my eternal soul?
Nope
mind…
or the heart
Not the mind but yes, the heart
iris pattern?
N.Ram Mumbai, India
Here is my riddle:
—-
Neither King nor rich I spare,
Lay to waste whole towns in days,
My impact is hard to bear.
Body’s weakness I lay bare,
Attack health in unknown ways,
Neither King nor rich I spare.
On life war,I do declare,
Leave my victims in a daze,
My impact is hard to bear.
Doctors often dumbly stare,
At my ever changing pace,
Neither King nor rich I spare.
I am mankind’s worst nightmare,
For my death the whole world prays,
My impact is hard to bear.
I drive people to despair,
Their wellbeing I erase,
Neither King nor rich I spare,
My impact is hard to bear.
—-
Is it cancer?
Hi David,
Good guessing… but it is not cancer.
It’s cancer for sure
Hi Kushal,
It is not cancer… if you see the conditions, cancer does not meet at least one of them.
My guess would be ebola. . . . ?
Dear James,
You are close… but it is not ebola.. but a more generic case
Aids?
Hi David,
No it’s not aids. In fact each of the guesses fall in the right area. Though ebola and aids are almost right. What i have in mind is not a specific disease or virus. I wrote the poem to talk about the process…EPIDEMIC. An epidemic hits a city suddenly, progresses fast, wipes out populations and seems to keep changing the pace and leaves people dazed, if not dead.
Thank you all for reading!
Ohhh! I was going to say epidemic and then there it is given away.
But you still got it right before seeing the answer
Burn it
Or it drowns you
Turn it
It surrounds you
Bitter friends until the very end
It cripples and confounds you
Pick it up and let it lift you up the same until it grounds you
Flee the pain
And hug the chain until it’s bound you
Zachary Dilks, Texas
Could this be fat?
Habit?
N. Ram, damn near on the money, but not “Habit”
Addiction
Got it, Rohini! Congrats.
Martin Elster (USA)
The first to think up agriculture, son,
were not you humans. While you might admire
yourself for stepping on us, the sure-fire
survival skills we’ve learned have plainly won
us matchless status. Since you’ve overrun
the world, observing us could re-inspire
you all to be less wasteful. Our attire
is modest as can be. We’ve never spun
tall tales about the universe. Each choice
we make is commonsensical. We rise
each dawn to work and listen to one voice,
a voice that passes on a can-do air
to all her girls, who’ve energy to spare
for a mind that’s neither callus nor unwise.
Ants?
Cockroaches?
Mixed up with the mud on ground,
All that could be heard was my sound,
till I melt, hallowed and bound
till I know I can never be found
Mahek G. India
Mixed up with the mud on ground,
All that could be heard was my sound,
till I melt, hallowed and bound
till I know I can never be found
like city lights,
I twinkle
like mourning daffodils,
I mingle
like subservient skies,
I succumb
like mighty lions,
I challenge
like warm stoves,
I burn
Stars?
fireflies?
Mahek G. India
like city lights,
I twinkle
like mourning daffodils,
I mingle
like subservient skies,
I succumb
like mighty lions,
I challenge
like warm stoves,
I burn
Stars?
David Armstrong, St. Louis, MO
Eyes behold me, though not all
Pending whether and where I fall,
All beseeching, some to call
Forth from hamlet, hearth, and hall
Colors coaxing, slow to stall,
Whether upon the arbors tall
or the aging garden wall,
I splinter through, dust enthrall,
Seen but hidden, while hours crawl
Though not all, though not all.
What am I?
Could that be “rainbow”?
No, but akin thereto!
Sunset, then?
I’m thinking a waterfall or cascade.
Light rays?
Rays of sunlight?
Born from fire and groaning earth,
Eons post-natal not disturbed,
But always does man find a way,
And earth’s bowels do see day,
Wonders dug from the gloomy deep,
Mankind has long wanted to keep,
But value often comes with vice,
Every beauty comes with a price,
With treasure comes a trail of blood,
That of the waylaid traveler,
Banker, miner, cheat and robber,
Who gave their lives for shiny mud,
What is the worth for which we vie?
What is value, or is it a lie?
diamonds?
Close, but not quite (on behalf of Anthony X.)
Gold
That is correct. Well done, Rohini Sunderam.
Brought on by emotions both happy and sad.
Brought on by memories both good and bad.
Brought on by the thought of Jesus himself.
Always present in sickness or in health.
I sit quietly waiting to be summoned to appear.
I wallow and build up inside of everyone here.
I’ve been present in many since the beginning of time.
I’ll still be around when poets can’t rhyme.
I’ll be there to comfort whenever people must weep.
I’ll be there when they awaken from their sleep.
I’ll be there when it’s time to be laid down to rest.
In fact that is probably at my best.
I’ll be there with you to experience birth.
And ’til death do us part for all that it’s worth.
I’ll be passed on to others for generations to come.
Waiting somewhere inside if they become numb.
I’ll be there when your feelings are all ruled by fear
But, alas, my existence is to be only a …….
Prayer?
*Facepalm* No no, it isn’t prayer. I have it now! Very good riddling.
tear?
Would you climb steeps as you are steered?
Would you till fields on others’ farms?
Would you be sheep? Would you be sheared?
Would you be healed by others’ harms?
Would you be servant to a lord?
Would you be thrall before a thane?
Would you bear fervently his sword?
Would you lose all to wear his chain?
Would you endure these wretched ills?
Then you shall find no place in me
For I ensure the sway of wills
No law shall bind, no ruler be
If crook and fold delight you not
If freedom be your true desire
Come join the bold, wear proud the blot
Come dwell in me, and call none sire
What am I?
-Rupert Palmer, South Africa
Democracy?
A very good guess, but no. Democracies still have rulers and laws.
Anarchy then?
Anarchy then?
Not quite. The answer is not a political system (or lack thereof), but a specific place.
atlantis?
No, not Atlantis. The correct answer is Hell, The Inferno, everlasting perdition. Thanks for the guesses!
My lady’s fingers are as viridescent
as Kermit the green frog. They are not spicy
like jalapeños, though they’re just as long.
My lime-green lady’s fingers, while not pricey,
are so darn tasteless, they’re like a depressant.
Perchance they’ll make me healthy, slim and strong,
but they are trailing slime behind like snails
slithering forth. They don’t sport fingernails,
nor are they blessed with knuckles. No, these fingers
are hot where one might hear good Cajun singers.
Louisiana chefs can make them yummy.
Not me! I must have left mine undercooked.
I gagged on the first forkful. Oh, my tummy!
I don’t expect I ever will get hooked
on bland, gelatinous seedpods. Being a dumbo,
I’ll never get the hang of cooking gumbo!
—Martin Elster (USA)
Okra, perhaps?
So, finally, when all is said and done,
There’s always me and facing me, myself.
We love or fight, but ever and anon
We have to face that other stubborn self.
He comes at will, and slyly slips it out:
What’s going on, you two, I want to know,
And then he sticks it in, that nosy snout
In our affairs, to set the facts aglow.
We hate him sometimes honestly de jure,
Because he always spoils our common fun,
By ever goading us too be so pure
He keeps our wicked concepts on the run.
But in all honesty it must be said
We both do love him after tears* are shed.
*Tears of anger or tears of remorse
sorry, line 4 should end with “elf”.
Conscience?
Yes! It is indeed “conscience”. You have been on a roll lately, have’nt you!
Conscience?
Grand old lady, when your hair turned red
All of your friends had thought you dead!
That all your old bones would surely break
Made even the coldest of our hearts ache.
Dear lady, you asked: “Whatever was that?
It seems that I may now have lost my best hat!”
And lest our dear lady have nothing to wear,
We’ll get you another! Your children all swear!
We may love you more after such an ordeal
And wait for the day when your laughter shall peal.
For who among us, with his wildest supposes,
Thought to see you again, still wreathed in your roses?
A pine or amber tree?
No, not a tree.
Norte Dame Cathedral?
Mike, well done! Notre-Dame de Paris is correct!
N Ram Mumbai India
Here’s my second riddle, hope you like it!
*****************
Wisdom of the countless ages,
Captured in a few bright phrases,
They are found in all languages,
Old or new across all races.
Notes from those who lived before us,
For us and those who will follow,
Describing an event’s locus,
And the outcome, joy or sorrow.
Some are concrete,and some, abstract,
Their content is always profound,
Loads of meaning you can extract,
And take decisions that are sound!
Tell me what these nuggets are called
These thought-pills from bright minds of yore?
If, by chance, your thinking is stalled,
Look into your local folklore!
Proverbs?
Hickey, you are on the dot! The answer is ‘proverbs’
Riddle
I have a thousand faces
I have no face at all
Die not, but turn to many
– my thousand children bless my fall.
I have been puzzling over this one for a week, but haven’t got it yet…
A mirror
Correct. Well guessed!
Hickey, you are on the dot! The answer is ‘proverbs’
Tell me my name in fuller measure,
With elbow grease and downward pressure.
Or cup by cup, if that’s your pleasure,
All impurity for to blot.
Out, out, you contagion! My burning vapor
Hangs all about when swimmers caper,
Breaks all the molds and fades out the paper,
Declaring: ”Out, out, damn spot.”
Chlorine or chloroform?
Yes! Chlorine.
I once raised my limbs way up to the sky
The breezes blew through my green canopy
But they cut me down and beat me to clay
And then in a vat of water I lay
Until the sin that they called lignin
Had all washed away and I could begin
Reformed and refreshed laid out on a mesh
My heart and my soul they then did thresh
Today I am pure and as white as rage
And I can frighten both poet and sage.
What am I?
paper
Close.
It’s a blank sheet of paper (that’s why ‘frighten both poet and sage’). I guess paper is correct
Riddle
Every second, every day, she nears.
Upon arrival, though, she disappears—
Or, more accurately stated, moves away,
Still chased, while chaste yet, for another day.
Metaphorical goalposts
Not quite. Keep thinking on it, you’ll get it, Rohini Sunderam.
tomorrow it is
The future/ tomorrow
Your shadow?
Is it dawn?
Here is my simple riddle
Believes in concept,
Of body and soul,
Body – macro object,
Soul -micro object,
Body follows classical mechanics,
Soul follows quantum mechanics.
Indirectly makes jugglery wonderful,
Between Classical and Quantum mechanics,
And explains concentric circles,
Of everyone’s everyday life magical,.
And prepares one for a higher call,
An ultimate truth divine beautiful.
Pranik healing,
Reki healing,
Distance healing,
Healing through spirituality,
Is possible,
And effective,
Everywhere ,any time,
In all seasons of year,
Due to which ,
Character of,
Tiny-electrons,
Block builders,
Of every Body,
Mind and soul.
Bruce Wren, Chicago, Illinois
Of Whom do I Write?
Whose words these were I think you’ll know,
(His home was in New England) though
I do not think he’ll mind if here
I imitate him even so.
Perhaps you think it rather queer
I’d write a riddle much too near
The master’s first creative take
That stands alone without a peer.
But still I give myself a break,
Avowing there is no mistake:
For though this riddle make you weep,
It certainly is not a fake.
Your task is simple, not too deep,
It’s only solve before you sleep
This silly riddle all too cheap,
This silly riddle (gosh it’s cheap!)
Frost
Oh, yes, Robert Frost
Very good imitation!
Yes, of course, Frost. Thanks to those who responded!
I didn’t think the riddle cheap
I didn’t think it silly
In fact, although it wasn’t deep
It was Frost, willy nilly
Hilarious!
My second:
I was born when the little moth died
No one thought of me and no one cried
In a hot bath they loosened my glue
Who am I, now you’ve got a clue!
Silk?
Yes! A bit too obvious?
I wouldn’t say that it is obvious.
Since you started with the death a moth and I come from south India, the immediate association was with silk. Your riddle is quite elegant!
Thank you!
IT IS DYING
The Songs of Homer and the fame of Achilles had
probably never reached the ear of the illiterate barbarian.
–Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
The song of yourself he said you should sing,
And cut the shackles English bards begat,
And Freedom sounds so sweet. Let Freedom ring
Across the land and steamroll structures flat.
I shake my spear at Freedoms barbarous
And nasty mindless authors who betray
The values from the days of old. To us
The silly rules do NOT apply today.
Today the authors nearly all abort
The past. A few aspire to bring it back.
Is there a person giving life support
Alive today and willing to attack?
And twelve of us agree and bravely strive
For only two to show it IS alive.
classical poetry?
Two broad.
Is it sonnet?
Shakespearean sonnet
Yes
Push me, and I move those who stand around me.
Yet I cannot function without your touch.
Side by side, several others surround me.
They cannot speak and yet, their voices sound often enough.
Come sit beneath me, though your hands rest on top,
Stroking nimbly at which cadence and frequency you please.
I sing for you until you bid me, stop.
Or rest;
Repeat:
Linger indefinitely…
Push me, and I move those who stand around me.
Yet I cannot function without your touch.
Side by side, several others surround me.
They cannot speak and yet, their voices sound often enough.
Come sit beneath me, though your hands rest on top,
Stroking nimbly at which cadence and frequency you please.
I sing for you until you bid me, stop.
Or rest;
Repeat:
Linger indefinitely…
Pamela Belitch from Orlando, FL
Reposting because I didn’t add my location the first time and don’t know how to edit or delete my first comment. Sorry!!
A piano
My third & last riddle. Enjoy!
As valet or butler you failed in your craft;
As robotic helper you likewise do flop.
Silent, unhelpful, and all understaffed–
Unresponsive you are to the terms of our swap.
Did I not feed you, just as you asked?
Certainly my offering you saw fit to take.
With mechanistic whine, but never a cask
Did you ever give me, my great thirst to slake.
Shall I push your buttons, as you have pushed mine,
And plead with the fates for justice dispensed?
Or just turn away, to my sad fate resigned,
Without my desire at all being quenched?
stuff drink vending machine?
Yes, N Ram! A stuck vending machine. Very good!
Thank you Hickey.
This one was tough as you have woven the images cleverly!
A piano
#1
Beyond the fabled Pillars
Or near the Isle of Thera?
Poseidon launched his killers
In single night of terror.
Some say in Indonesia,
While Cayce thought Bahamas.
Collective our amnesia
When comes to ancient dramas.
From Solon came the story,
Passed down through generations.
A quite elusive quarry
With endless contemplations.
And should we ever find it,
Most likely unexpected
Will be the tale behind it –
Pre-history corrected.
#2
We live in a pinwheel
Quite far from the hub.
Revolving until we’ll
Like dust be sucked up.
Believe it’s existed
For billions of years,
Evolving till twisted
In spirals appears.
It’s far from alone,
Having sisters galore.
Perhaps there’s a clone
We may someday explore.
No matter how distant
Through telescope’s eye,
The number existent’s
Uncountably high.
#3
Seems every four, we add one more,
Until there’s exception to rule –
For centuries that come in threes,
Our normal perceptions they fool.
Division where a score that’s squared
Results in remainder that’s none.
Leaves double nils the same until
Four-hundred-year cycle has run.
Seems solar dance will leave askance
Perfection with time we desired.
Thus, must exist this subtle twist
Astronomy always required.
Oh these are clever! Ok #1 I’m going with Atlantis?
Correct. I didn’t think these would be too difficult.
Could number 2 be galaxy?
Partially correct.
Leap year for # 3
Correct on #3.
Milky Way specifically?
Yes. The actual title is either Wheel in the Sky or Eye Candy.
The Prophet prayed and the rain stopped
The Prophet prayed and they harvested the crops
The Prophet prayed and the vision came
The Prophet prayed and nothing remains the same
The Prophet prayed and great drops of blood fell
The Prophet prayed and obtained the keys to hell
The Prophet prayed and there was life after death
The Prophet prayed and the devil had nothing left
The Prophet prayed and the gift made room
The Prophet prayed and hes no longer in the tomb
The prophet prayed and things are not the same
The Prophet prayed and they all overcame
The Prophet prayed and the baby leaped in the womb
The Prophet prayed and redemption birthed Satan’s doom
911, Oh what a day of attack
Terrorism, just another stab in the back
911, Oh the twin towers went down
Terrorism, devastation so profound
911, Oh what an awful day
Terrorism’s effects bringing us to our knees to pray
911, Oh why was it allowed
Terrorism, Oh what reproof of the proud
911, Oh what anger, what remorse
Terrorism, We must consider the source
911, Oh the Satanic beast walks the land
Terrorism, He and the beast go hand and hand
911, Oh a day not quickly forgotten
Terrorism, Just another demonic plot how rotten
911, Oh the foolishness of man
Terrorism, Unleashed into the land
911, Oh our countrymen’s blood cries
Terrorism with it’s cynicism and lies
911, Oh the building, we will replace
Terrorism, Oh what a slap in America’s face
911, Oh surely we the people will heal
Terrorism, Tragedy with a seal
911, Oh these lives must not be in vain
Terrorism, nothing remains the same
911, Oh the devastation of a nation
Terrorism, America’s vision of aggravation
911, Oh we must recover
Terrorism, Satan’s brother
911, Oh what anger, what shame
Terrorism, Just another name
911, Oh what a painful past
Terrorism, Upon God now this burden we do cast
911, Oh God let this evil be turned to good
Terrorism, let us take off its mask, its hood
911, Oh in your year of jubilee
Terrorism, Oh America we must break free
Nivedita Karthik
(Gurugram, India)
It is there all around you
whether you’re seeing red or feeling blue.
Neither seen nor felt
nor heard nor smelt,
it can be found among the stars
and even deep in this heart of ours.
A killer of joy and laughter
that shadows you forever thereafter.
empty space?
This is the kind of guy that young girls love to date;
though, in livestock, it is no desirable trait,
and it is the type of tip that servers hate
(but it’s what they can expect if you’re made to wait).
Buck?
Correct!
They
May
Speak ill
Of Dr Jekyll,
Allied
With pride
To Mr Hyde.
Behind
A saintly
Exterior
You’ll find
A faintly
Inferior
Interior
Designed
To hide
Mr Hyde
And his kind
Inside,
Maligned
By mankind
Whether committing
(Weather permitting)
Petty crime
Or doing time
For pantogenocide?
Zachary Dilks, Texas
What can’t touch, but yet we all can feel
Like water, flows
Like life, it grows
And what is relative regardless of however real
And what’s the seal between a kiss
That blow concealed between the fists
And what’s the difference in a hearty soul and heart of steel
I’m always in one place, and yet
I take you many places.
Let trails on paper not upset
You; put me through my paces!
My problem is, once in a while
I’m caught quite unaware
And lead you on mile after mile—
And also to despair.
Maps?
Or I guess A Map to be specific
Sorry, not maps, Zachary.
Is it GPS?
Or perhaps imagination?
Go, Nivedita!
Perfect!
Spot on!
(Imagination is also a good, imaginative guess.)
Thank you Julian!
I really enjoyed reading this one…
Amazing word play there. The “lead you on mile after mile” is indeed what it does…and quite often at that. 😛
Imagination
Riddle
I have no limbs and yet I leap
Strange tongues have I, yet cannot speak
I do not live and yet I grow;
Dispense my light, but cannot know.
Ah, I think I have it! Flame?
Yes, fire! How clever of you. So quick.
Unless it was not very clever of me…
Thank you, I prefer the theory that we are both terribly smart!
Fire?
This is a beautiful riddle. I don’t think it is simple or too easy.But your imagery is so vivid and hence it is easy to get the association quickly
Kind of you to say what you said below!
N Ram Mumbai India.
One more from me… Just before the finishing line
——
When you’ve figured me out you’ll know I’m unreal,
Yet I rule the hearts of men everywhere!
There are times when I become an ordeal
In those times my spell is so hard to bear
Flower of the night, my scent leaks through days,
Mighty or the meek, I bring hope to all,
Shocking or pleasing,many are my ways
Sometimes I may bring you a wake up call
My role is mostly to de-stress the mind,
Though, at times, I take you to future’s doors,
My language uses a code of some kind,
Its key is locked in the mind’s inner stores!
You could now make this a fairy tale ending,
Tell me my name while the verdict is pending!
Dreams?
Yes, it is dreams!
Riddle
Mine is an unseen power
That draws some to my grasp;
Those there are who can’t resist
Surrender in my clasp.
But others dare defy me
On them I have no claim
I cannot move them in their pride –
They shun me in disdain.
Truth?
Seems to fit, doesn’t it? But not what I was thinking of…
A magnet?
Right again! It’s almost as though we share some common experience.
Noah Hale, Delaware
I won’t be long, but see my great show
Before I’m away, as all things go,
Since it’s my nature to fall then grow
And then live again triumphantly.
I’m heavy, yet my design is light
And by design I’m also night
If I fall from my place on the height
Of thousands of mornings and days.
Wherever I fall I also see
The makes of my work, the work of me
In one of my flares on the same sea
You’ve known me from, wherever you are.
What am I every day and night?
Time
The sun?
Although the world in which I’m not
Is often crass and filthy,
That is no sin of mine; I plead
Emphatically: not guilty.
My world’s online, less often print.
I may arise from haste
Or simple inattention: is
There too much on your plate?
I’m there, but not. I don’t belong.
You notice and you’re vexed
Because propriety demands
You root out such a hex.
My visible stand-in is one
Of seven (or else five);
Or better: it heads nine like it—
Or trails, some must believe.
Those who commit this little crime
Aren’t shamed in many cases.
(Your poet made the same mistake
Above—no real disgrace.)
You’d think some spirit had passed by
Wielding a choosy Hoover.
I may spoil rhymes as they’re spoiled here.
Ban me, they might be truer.
lying
No, Allison
Not lying. (Although white lies might qualify as something people “aren’t shamed” about.)
Auto correct, maybe?
No, J.
Though auto-correct may solve the issue sometimes. Remember, online is the primary, not the only environment that pertains.
Is it the colon or semi-colon?
Pretty sure it’s colon. Clever word play.
No, Zachary
Not colon or semi-colon (or other punctuation mark).
The middle finger?
Camilla Marx, South Africa
I was no stranger to your waking mind
And you have felt me burn within your soul.
I bear your very thoughts, and yet you find
Though all may master me, none may control.
Surely I chart the heart of man: the joy
The love; the fear; the victory and despair.
Lavish I praise then fickle, I destroy;
I mend; I build; I crush beyond repair.
As empires shake and crumble, from their dust
I linger on to praise or to indict.
Though chained, repressed through ages, yet I must
Rise, undeterred, to lift the arm of right.
And though I rail against you, let me be;
You cannot hold me captive and be free.
Oops just realised that I left out two commas – Line 7 should read ‘Lavish, I praise,’ etc. This is what comes of posting late at night I guess!
Great poem, Camilla
and thanks for the editorial comment. I was wondering about the weird word order in line 7: “Lavish I praise …” (No guess from me yet vis-a-vis the riddle.)
Thank you Julian!
Yes I was quite frustrated with myself when I spotted that.
justice
No, but that’s an interesting guess!
Camilla,
Your poem deserves more than one guess. I not at all confident, but something relating to innate bias or disposition, or natural law?
Thank you very much Julian! You and Allison were both on the right track.
Words?
Yes, that’s it!
Mark Stone, Ohio
Shaken, Not Stirred
Whenever the empire was threatened with doom,
the MI6 leaders met in the War Room.
And after a spot of tea, they chose to leaven
the crisis by calling on Double-O-Seven.
Impeccably tailored and sharp as a quill.
The double O meant he was Licensed to Kill.
The hero in twenty-four works of film stemming
from stories and novels penned by Ian Fleming.
He’d arrive at the office of his boss, named M,
and learn of the villains and go after them.
The scoundrels would hatch schemes so brazen and bold:
to kidnap a space ship or steal the world’s gold.
They all sought to kill him, so he could not linger.
Ernst Stavro Blofeld and Auric Goldfinger,
Doctor No, Mr. Big, Kamal Khan, too.
And Klebb with that poisonous spike in her shoe.
The villains had henchmen to help in their cause.
A metal-toothed killer whose nickname was Jaws.
And Odd Job, a chauffeur so dangerous that
he could behead a statue with his bowler hat.
A key chain with stun gas was one of the gadgets he
used in the service of M and Her Majesty.
The beverage for adults that he most preferred:
a vodka martini that’s shaken, not stirred.
He played craps with Lana Wood (Plenty O’Toole)
before she was picked up and tossed in the pool.
He met an assassin in a jacuzzi,
played by the hot Luciana Paluzzi.
His female companions were classy, not wonky:
Diana Rigg, Daniela Bianchi.
But few of his consorts, and maybe not any,
could rival the style of the sweet Moneypenny.
To ladies, quite charming. To bad guys, quite ornery.
Six actors have played him, including Sean Connery.
Recently, Daniel Craig. The other four:
Lazenby, Brosnan plus Dalton and Moore.
And now for the riddle for which you have waited.
I hope that your foray will not be ill-fated.
His “go by” is novel. It’s not off the shelf.
Tell me how would he be introducing himself?
james bond
This is not correct.
Mark Stone, Ohio
Any of the following would be correct:
“Bond. James Bond”
“My name is Bond. James Bond.”
“The name’s Bond. James Bond.”
One can see a video compilation of James Bond introductions by doing a search on “Top 5 James Bond introductions.”
“The name’s Bond. James Bond”
Mark Stone, Ohio
Hip Lingo (an opinion riddle)
My wife made a comment and I almost choked.
She said that I’m too old to utter, “I’m stoked.”
I cannot keep up with hip lingo these days.
At what age should one stop employing this phrase?
Good. Reminds me of a NYer cartoon of years ago: a tombstone with the epitaph “Hey, I’m outta here!”
You might find them on a sidewalk.
They often make people gawk,
though a review would rather mock.
You will find them at the theater
or in a science fiction double feature.
In a way, some live on forever.
Thou wonders of our world will last
For us today soon reach our past
But the strong mind of Man holds itself high
Unspoken are the words that one will die
Our world will stand upon our grave
The destruction we make will soon concave.
Why thou people stay relentless
When soon our world will be lifeless
The oceans will cry itself in dismay
Mankind will always be the one to be repay
The rubbish left on all the sea floors
Will grasp the life of animals doors
O cry the world mankind will ruin
Thy eyes are blind and hearts are black
It is they who have forgotten themselves in a place quite abstract
That a creation much bigger holds earth up high
This prized possession will make human cry
It controls the winds and it reigns with the seas
It holds mountains up high and lets animals free
It carries the weather and life out on earth
What could be this mother that mankind has desert?
Lauren Angelus, California
(I don’t know why it says August 12th, but today right now in California is still the 11th. Hopefully my riddle will still be accepted for this contest:) )
REPOST EDITED
Lauren Angelus, California
Thou wonders of our world will last,
For us today soon reach our past.
But the strong mind of Man holds itself high;
Unspoken are the words that one will die.
Our world will stand upon our grave,
The destruction we make will soon concave.
Why thou people stay relentless,
When soon our world will be lifeless.
The oceans will cry itself in dismay,
Mankind will always be the one to repay.
The rubbish left on all the sea floors
Will grasp the life of animals doors.
O cry the world mankind will ruin.
Thy eyes are blind and hearts are black!
It is they who have forgotten themselves in a place quite abstract.
That a creation much bigger holds earth up high;
This prized possession will make human cry.
It controls the winds and it reigns with the seas.
It holds mountains up high and lets animals free.
It carries the weather and life out on earth.
What could be this wonder that mankind will desert?
Is it something to do with pollution?
Yes, on the right track. But if we are heading towards a polluted world then what aspect of nature are we moving away from.
Lauren, Now that the contest is over, would you be willing to post the answer?
NRam
August 11, 2019
N Ram Mumbai India.
One more from me… Just before the finishing line
——
When you’ve figured me out you’ll know I’m unreal,
Yet I rule the hearts of men everywhere!
There are times when I become an ordeal
In those times my spell is so hard to bear
Flower of the night, my scent leaks through days,
Mighty or the meek, I bring hope to all,
Shocking or pleasing,many are my ways
Sometimes I may bring you a wake up call
My role is mostly to de-stress the mind,
Though, at times, I take you to future’s doors,
My language uses a code of some kind,
Its key is locked in the mind’s inner stores!
You could now make this a fairy tale ending,
Tell me my name while the verdict is pending!
——
I am reposting this riddle again as I seem to have posted in the middle of a conversation. My apologies
N Ram, Now that the contest is over, would you be willing to post the answer?
My apologies. I thought since people had guessed all the answers, (and I had also agreed with the guesses), the matter was settled. Here are my answers:
poem 1: Neither King nor rich I spare—- answer: epidemic
poem 2: wisdom of the countless ages— answer: proverb(s)
poem 3:When you’ve figured me out….. answer: dream(s)
N. Ram. My apologies! I didn’t realize this last riddle had been posted earlier. My bad! Thanks.
Hardly!