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DOOM Poetry Contest

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I've seen some great poetry by some of the members here on Doomworld, and a lot of people like myself seem to enjoy writing it. with the month just started, I thought it would be fun for some of the writers here on Doomworld to show off their talents. here are just a few rules I've written as of now for you to follow. 

  • poetry must be open to everybody  (don't be shy!) 
  • no longer than 100 lines per poem
  • poem must be written by the user who posted it
  • any form of poetry
  • must have a DOOM feel to it. it does not have to be DOOM, just mention something like combating Demons internally or externally or mention hell, etc. 
  • must have a title
  • no alterations to poems when entered 
  • entries entered before August 26th
  • not an already published poem can be entered

other than that, it is up to you! Good luck! also, spread the word. Everybody is great at poetry, and everybody should try!


of course, I can't join, but just for fun, here is a little poem I wrote to set the mood! Let's call it Martian Man 


Shadow of the stars,

And yet the stars are unwilling to amuse me. 

The sly grin of the demon awaits the mistress of death’s help,

Not for itself but for the tortured souls so ever tortured,

And for I, no one ever dared. 


The crimson night scowls at the crimson knight’s cowl, 

Wearing away that red, white, and blue. 

The sky was turning and so ever learning of the man who played the game right. 

His maroon marine outfit and cross colored fitted pants were of grieving and laughter. 

His eyes were of darkness, and hatred he wrote as he rode his high-heels past the fountain. 


The demons all scattered and the man stood up in power,

With a wicked twisted smile,

All of his words bewildered,

And his hope for death came roping down the room,

Ripping away the sorrow.


Write N' Tear! 

Edited by LiT_gam3r

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edited just now! Check it out, try it! good luck everybody! 

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This is a poem i wrote in spanish, a few years back. But i translated and shared it on ''The Friends of Arthur Machen'' on Facebook.
Its not very Doom-ey, but... well jut let the poem sing for me:


The Secret Glory

The reality of today, yesterday, tomorrow, always,
it's relative, like the constant passing of time,
an incessant storm, a perpetual tide, an endless blizzard.
A hard battle, in which the seconds rains
like crossfire in the second war;
and with every minute killed,
the understanding of life diversifies.
Truth, lie, bad, good, up and down,
nothing is right or left anymore, then,
How to put the feet on the floor?

How to face this eternal mountain?
If despair rules, What option are now?
And so, death, far away from here,
becomes desirable, early,
but it is not an answer,
no, if it comes with sadness,
and so, every wish,
every yearning, every dream,

has to remain hidden,
like a divine chalice,
like a secret glory!
It is not longer what it once was,
the promised greatness, is something
that despair can not afford.
Then, I will put an end,
I will win the lost paradise in every day,

quite, happy, enjoying misery,

and knowing that,
once dead,
I will live more than ever.

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I'll just share mine from more than 10 years ago, although it is disqualified by your criteria on a couple of counts. 

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@purist I edited the criteria. check it out! now it's 100 lines. I think 30 lines is too little, so I increased it by 333.3...%! 

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A haiku:


Once the sector count's

One Hundred and Twenty Eight

Visplane Overflow


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There once was a man on a moon
His friends died but he was immune
Demons killed his pet bunny
They thought it was funny
But now it's their guts that are strewn

Edited by Lippeth

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This was inspired by Starcraft, not Doom, but since it's about a space marine fighting non-human beings I think it fits well enough:

We're alone on this planet
Ages of violet rock stretch in my mind
when I dream about watching lurking spines splinter my friends
Shadows of swarms hover behind your ears
I know what it's like
When you get the shakes from too many stims
Or when your hearing rings from too many shells
Or goes completely silent for a second
and is filled only with the strange moans of mutating viscera
But I'll dust off my helmet again
ready for a new layer of dirt and blood
And as you burrow underground, creature
I think about that one thing we share
a beating heart

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The smell of burning flesh plagued the air

They made the hellish soil their lair

And whenever they went to, they kept their knees deep in the Dead

And whenever he went to, there was nothing but utter dread

Is there any salvation left in the breaking edge of the Shores of Inferno?

Taking out his shotgun, he leaves them all wince until the very tomorrow


Tell me if you can now hear their pain

Tell me if you know what now is your gain

Knowing nothing will await you amidst this rain

As they will commit worldwide massacre once again


Tell me why right now is it like this?

Why humanity must be on the bottom of this abyss?


And when the clock stops ticking, nothing wiill remain

Amidst this cycle, they will repeat the coup de main


Yet deep within you know, there is no rest for the living

Thus you will push forward, fighting while being unforgiving


Thy Flesh will not be consumed today

You will not become their msot favoured prey


Now you know Humanity's lost mission was to stop the resurrection of Evil

Because while this you know is Hell on Earth, You will be Humanity's last hope of retrieval!



Written while hearing to this, up to minute 2:02 


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The Man With No Name


An emerald flash in the darkness of hell

For  the hordes of chaos has tolled the doom bell

In an armor all green with a murderous glee

Came the man with no name holding a BFG


A berserker pack tinted carmine haze

For the creatures of evil have come the last days

Blood and guts splatter walls in the world of despair

Where the man with no name came to rip and tear


As the final rocket gets buried within

The perverted brain mess of the icon of sin

You sit back, breathe and stare at the end of the game

Where you wrote down the legend of the man with no name



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Oh, I'm all over this.

Wrote this poem just over a year ago. Have shared/performed it with a few friends but hasn't been published so I think it counts.


It's designed to be performed rather than read, really, so I've also included a video I recorded of me reciting it: 

There. First ever YouTube upload. You better be grateful.

And the poem itself:



Big Fucking Gun


The BFG, it works in stages:

You pull the switch and then wait ages,

While it charges hidden gauges,

Until the beast at last engages,


And forth a ball of plasma rages,

And what it hits it always razes,

Then in its wake a ranging major//

Second wave of fire blazes!


So yeah this gun is totes outrageous;

It ends the battle as it wages.

But Doomguy can at least assuage his

Lust for melting demon faces


In gibs and charnel now he stands

Knee-Deep… 'n The Shores of Hell

Switch off! And sit back, mouse in hand.

Inferno in my soul.


As monsters go, these ones are great.

They rip! They tear! They shred and hate!

No moral maze to navigate -

No ambiguity.


But is it sound to realise

These Hurt-Me-Plenty Nightmare highs

This Ultra-Violence that defies

My nature in this way?


I've thought on this, and I surmise,

I contemplate, it's even wise

To extricate and exorcise

My demons in affray.


This game presents a focussed stage

To lose oneself in focussed rage,

To loose aggression here uncaged.

I will be their grief.


And when the world's too much ag'in

I'll chainsaw up an imp or ten

This shotgun carnage... yields my zen:


A garden grows beneath.


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Peril at every turn


Damp musty air slows my breathing,

Claustrophobic, chest is heaving,

What's that chittering? What's that breathing?

What's that gnashing? What's that munching?

Nearby noises of bones crunching

under a massive footfall.


I press my back against the wall 

A freezing air whooshes past me

Menacing moans: a Vampire Banshee?

My feet, my knees, lock, unmoving

Involuntary my hand's now moving

to the hilt of my heavy hammer.


Then warmth, growing warmth,

the hall is heating,

Searing heat is now flowing,

Walls and ceiling are now glowing!

What's that echo? I must be going!

Chasing after chilling specter,

Neither mace, nor lance, nor scepter,

will avail me. Haste away.


Down the dungeon stair I crash

Fleeing fire, my moves are brash

Deep within the Dungeon I flee

Round a corner, suddenly

I find myself face to face

with an awful stench, I must now brace

myself, for a giant mold of death and decay

blocks my path. I feebly pray.


Lost in despair I sink to the ground

Forever lost, ne'er to be found

For no soul's here to hear my plea

'Cept ones more lost, more lost than me

with evil thoughts I cannot see.


Amongst the Shadows they lie in wait

for unsuspecting fools who take the bate 

Blinded by lust for fortune and glory

I'm only one of many to weave such a story

Forever doomed to a fettered fate.


But wait! What's that poking me in my back?

My wits! How gross they have been in lack!

Carrying this wand since I remember not when

I point it now as a keen writer points his pen


A bolt of fire leaps from the wand's end! 
The mold writhes about as it's wreathed in flame!

I blast it again and again, until it wilts in pain;

Until ashes charred are all that remain. 

The way is unbarred, the deathmold's been slain.

Rare artifacts soon will be mine to gain....


Here is a video from the same Universe as the poem: 


Edited by Hellbent

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Just a reminder that we are about half-way through the contest, and that all entries must be posted before sept. 1!

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We are birds

I want to be a bird
And fly around the world,
Be happy in the sky
And catch some tasty flies.
Birds needn't have to visa,
They search for shiny season.

Men look at me from window,
I have a wings of freedom.
My problems are forgotten,
I'm seeing a fields of cotton,
There my sworn brothers stay,
But man drive them away.

Hey, brothers, I'm here!
No need to shout "Oh, Dear!",
Let's fly with me together
To search for warm weather.
Let's fly with wind speed.
What more do we need?

We are a proud birds,
No more another words.
Let people look at us,
We search a paradise.
Okay, bros, let's fly further.
The sky is our father!

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Dance On The Sky
Who dances on the sky?
Who wants to make us cry?

Black clouds have closed sun,
Unhappiness has begun,
And people want to run
From this disaster.

And rains every day,
And everyone is gray,
It looks like we're in hell.
Life is ending faster!

Who dances on the sky?
Who wants to make us cry!

Wolf is barking to the Moon,
So cold after noon.
And someone is alone,
He is lost in the dark.

And everybody cry,
Someone decided to die,
We're seeing a devil's eye
And hearing a scary bark.

Who dances on the sky?
Who wants to make us cry!

But someone don't afraid
Of devil's curse and death,
And devil will be dead,
And sun will come again.

He takes the holy sword
And says the sacred word
And kills infernal lord.
And devil goes away.

Thanks, our hero, Son of God!
Thanks for this hero, Our Lord.

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Hey everybody! Exciting news! the winner of this contest will get their poem featured in a future issue of the DOOM Master Wadazine! Fun! The winner will be announced about a week after the competition ends!

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Adrian’s asleep on the angry chair

Oh look, there’s a cyberdemon over there

Sniping at me with his pierced rockets

Oh how I wish I had an invulnerability sphere in my pocket

Those imps are waiting for Romero to play

Little do they know he left id day before yesterday

Doomguy’s got a message for the archvile

I hope you like shotgun shells you creature so repulsive and vile

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The due date has been pushed back to August 26th. Hope more participate! have fun.

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On 7/30/2020 at 4:12 PM, LiT_gam3r said:

Just a reminder that we are about half-way through the contest, and that all entries must be posted before sept. 1!


1 minute ago, LiT_gam3r said:

The due date has been pushed back to August 26th. Hope more participate! have fun.

So no more until Sept.1?

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50 minutes ago, P41R47 said:

So no more until Sept.1?

No. I changed it up so it could get in the magazine on time. 

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Banged out some free verse like the pretentious little snot I am, based on the general experience of playing certain kinds of slaughtermap.




in nowhere places placeless,
nests of iron hard wrought, rock diced manifold in strange light
and pillars countless gazing,
in arrangement pure, inhuman
berth mass assembled
bone metal flesh and ichor formless, effigies senseless, hateful
cast as tides shrieking, shambling, squirming
in every wall crawling.
with those alone caged in structure a dance eternal,
casts of lead molten, cleansing rays and great wastes sundered in wiped cycles
nerves breaking, senses failing, burning to white ash with purpose
the mad seek death perfection

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1 hour ago, LiT_gam3r said:

No. I changed it up so it could get in the magazine on time. 

Oh, ok.

Gotta make something better.

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Just thought I share some of my Doom poem just for the lolz.


Deep beneath the code,

there lies a dark dream.

A place where evil gathers,

waiting to unleash sin.


Lost in a red moon,

where only evil sings,

steady watcher of Phobos and Mars,

the Doom Slayer, the chosen of sin.

Preparing for battle,

Where blood shall spill.


An icon to hatred,

Thy flesh consumed,

He brings war,

He brings Doom.


And so He gathers, all his strenght and his might,

slowly He whispers, one last time:


Let my hand be the one with the sword,
for I shall execute them once and for all.
Let my foot stand the waves,
of all the flesh and craves.
Let my shoulders carry the weight,
of my brothers and sisters in death.
Let my voice be heard around the world,
the scream of my fury above all.
Let my heart never cease to beat,
for I shall know no defeat.
And let my enemies live today,
for I am the hunter and they are the prey.



Edited by Endless

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Depending on where you are in the world, there is five days until the contest ends! So if you have DOOM Poetry, share it as soon as possible! That is all. Good night!

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Last day before the contest ends. it ends tonight at 11:59, so get your poems in now! 

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