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
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