Page:
In Memory of W. B. Yeats
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
The Classic Corner : W. H. Auden tribute
Co-Hosts - Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
Part XL in an ongoing series introducing serious writers of DUP to well-known poets classical and modern.
W. H. Auden ( born Wystan Hugh Auden 21 February 1907 – 29 September 1973 ) was an Anglo-American whose poetry was noted for its stylistic and technical achievement, its engagement with politics, morals, love, and religion, and its variety in tone, form, and content. He grew up in Birmingham, England and was known for his extraordinary intellect and wit. His first book, Poems, was published in 1930 with the help of T.S. Eliot.
Just before World War II broke out, Auden emigrated to the United States in 1939 where he fell in love with poet Chester Kallman. The romance ended after two years when Kallman refused to accept the faithful relations that Auden demanded. However, the two maintained their friendship, and from 1947 until Auden's death they continued living together while collaborating on projects such as writing operas.
Auden won the Pulitzer Prize in 1948 for The Age of Anxiety. Much of his poetry is concerned with moral issues and evidences a strong political, social, and psychological context. While the teachings of Marx and Freud weighed heavily in his early work, they later gave way to religious and spiritual influences.
Possibly due to the early political aspects and ever evolving nature of his work, Auden's poetry was the constant subject of negative criticism. His writings were often derided by prominent figures in the literary community as being lesser than that of Eliot and Yeats.
For more about W. H. Auden, visit
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/w-h-auden
Guidelines
- Write a new Poem honoring Auden inspired by one of his poems.
- While you are allowed a maximum of 2 entries, only the best is considered viable for the trophy.
- Do your best to make us feel as though we are reading poetry by Auden. The more we feel you capturing his essence in your own words, the higher you will score. Scoring will also involve a wide range of factors not limited to correct use of grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc.
What is the "essence" we are looking for? It will be a combination of the poet's personality, emotional investment, and message from the inspiration poem you chose.
The Rules
1. Two entries per DUP persona allowed. Keep this thread clean of everything but entries until after the awards announcement is made. Comment on entries directly to the member's page if you feel moved to. Post any questions or concerns about the comp in the Classic Corner Discussion thread @
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/10855/
2. No Extreme Content or Erotica. This challenge is open to all ages and can't be viewed with an ECW ( Extreme Content Warning ). Erotica is using language to depict sexual activity or sexualized anatomy for the purpose of reader arousal. Just find something else to write about.
3. No exact word limit; however, attempt to keep it no more than 250 - 300.
4. Any form is acceptable ( but studying the poet is advised ). While we accept Spoken Word and Visual Poems, please include a text version in your submission.
5. You MUST tag your entries with the theme #WHAuden. If the theme is currently not available, be sure to add it before the competition expires.
6. In your poem's Author Notes box, provide the title of and a direct link to the one poem by Auden that inspired yours. Failure to not include this information will automatically disqualify your entry. Without such, we have no way of determining if you were truly inspired by Auden or simply swapped fresh words into his existing poetry ( which is a form of plagiarism ). This is a requirement regardless if you include a copy of the inspiration poem along with your entry or borrow its title.
7. You may edit your entry up until the moment the competition closes and is locked for judging. In fact, we highly encourage you take a few minutes to review your entry to ensure that it is error free in terms of spelling, grammar, and punctuation, and adheres to these guidelines.
Comp will be judged by Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze. As in the past and in the event there is a tie, we will call in third ( and possibly fourth ) judge.
You have one month; best of luck to all entrants!
Zaynab_kamoonpury
Forum Posts: 69
Fire of Insight
3
Joined 4th Dec 2017 Forum Posts: 69
Mod addiction
The internet is my addiction
It's my cocaine, in joy and pain
I stick its needles into my head
It's my mania, my marijuana
without it I'm a restless iguana
24 hrs without it would be too hard
I'm caught fast in this world wide web
A social butterfly stuck in its web
I mean binge watching reels and reading,
on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube
anything that piques my interest ,
It all reels me in, clickbaits and I bite the byte
The algorithm has picked up my preferences
so feeds my eyes what I want to see
Yet I need to stroll out more and scroll less
for sedentary lives are not healthy.
I tried other things, painted and planted flowers
Yet at the end of the day I missed it like nicotine
over my cup of coffee, with my feet up
I needed to connect online, even WhatsApp.
I just can't imagine going off all internet
cold turkey, oh can't quit cold turkey.
Don't even want to taper off this drug.
Real bear hugs replaced by virtual hugs.
Tis a pity, addiction is addiction.
Hope to rehabilitate in heaven.
It's my cocaine, in joy and pain
I stick its needles into my head
It's my mania, my marijuana
without it I'm a restless iguana
24 hrs without it would be too hard
I'm caught fast in this world wide web
A social butterfly stuck in its web
I mean binge watching reels and reading,
on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube
anything that piques my interest ,
It all reels me in, clickbaits and I bite the byte
The algorithm has picked up my preferences
so feeds my eyes what I want to see
Yet I need to stroll out more and scroll less
for sedentary lives are not healthy.
I tried other things, painted and planted flowers
Yet at the end of the day I missed it like nicotine
over my cup of coffee, with my feet up
I needed to connect online, even WhatsApp.
I just can't imagine going off all internet
cold turkey, oh can't quit cold turkey.
Don't even want to taper off this drug.
Real bear hugs replaced by virtual hugs.
Tis a pity, addiction is addiction.
Hope to rehabilitate in heaven.
Written by Zaynab_kamoonpury
Go To Page
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16926
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16926
When I Am Gone
( After William Butler Yeats
for WH Auden )
When I am gone, euthanized by days' end,
My physical housing no longer apt;
And you, by water's edge, grieving, enrapt
Of moments, lingering as perfumed skin;
Eyes reflect greyish waters of the stream,
with teeth, white as river rock, sun-bleached
Atop the sandy current's countenance;
Flaxen hair, as sea grass in a marine,
Waving; and amid the reflection see
A clear resemblance: features that are yours,
Drifting within the cloudy skies above;
know then, you are eternally with me.
~
for WH Auden )
When I am gone, euthanized by days' end,
My physical housing no longer apt;
And you, by water's edge, grieving, enrapt
Of moments, lingering as perfumed skin;
Eyes reflect greyish waters of the stream,
with teeth, white as river rock, sun-bleached
Atop the sandy current's countenance;
Flaxen hair, as sea grass in a marine,
Waving; and amid the reflection see
A clear resemblance: features that are yours,
Drifting within the cloudy skies above;
know then, you are eternally with me.
~
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16926
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16926
'Tis All for the Best; ( Villanelle )
( After W. H. Auden )
I would say nothing like I told you so *,
Despite knowing the course your choices take;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
Tis pointless inventorying your escrow:
Aware of outcomes, before it's too late;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
There is no future that isn't malleable,
No nightmare exists, which you cannot wake;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
The signs are there, in the spiritual world,
Glints of light, whispers, nudges as you play;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
It won't be easy, learning on your own;
You will surely fall hard along the way;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
This life is your personal freewill zone
Any mistake is not your final fate;
Because I cannot interfere, you know;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
~
I would say nothing like I told you so *,
Despite knowing the course your choices take;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
Tis pointless inventorying your escrow:
Aware of outcomes, before it's too late;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
There is no future that isn't malleable,
No nightmare exists, which you cannot wake;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
The signs are there, in the spiritual world,
Glints of light, whispers, nudges as you play;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
It won't be easy, learning on your own;
You will surely fall hard along the way;
Because I cannot interfere, you know.
This life is your personal freewill zone
Any mistake is not your final fate;
Because I cannot interfere, you know;
'Tis all for the best; it ensures your growth.
~
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
slipalong
Forum Posts: 855
Dangerous Mind
43
Joined 1st Jan 2018Forum Posts: 855
To hold cold hands
A pen laid flat, cryptic crossword remains unsolved
thunder clouds rub shoulders, in the static air
Irritate, the greater half is now dissolved
those loved, broken, separation for the unprepared
For when I stared with empty eye
and in my mind, I held his chilling hands
ego washed in bleach, silence in reply
no cheers caroused from our grandstand
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
To plot a course and venture forth
he was the wind upon my face
white stallion rode on the foreshore
vibration's and the un-disgraced
Pin drop silence, loneliness, the teeth that bite
the broom that sweeps up all regrets
the trailer playing what is afterlife
blond streaks that showed, when his hair was wet
Ice blocks of summer how they froze the heart
black ribbon's bows now tied across
as we were Gwynevere and Lancelot
relive the moments so besot
As the dirt was cast, upon the coffins top in mourning
in wistful recall, a frank exchange and cutting wit
angels share the plans that we were forming
The missing, a miner in a cold black pit
thunder clouds rub shoulders, in the static air
Irritate, the greater half is now dissolved
those loved, broken, separation for the unprepared
For when I stared with empty eye
and in my mind, I held his chilling hands
ego washed in bleach, silence in reply
no cheers caroused from our grandstand
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
To plot a course and venture forth
he was the wind upon my face
white stallion rode on the foreshore
vibration's and the un-disgraced
Pin drop silence, loneliness, the teeth that bite
the broom that sweeps up all regrets
the trailer playing what is afterlife
blond streaks that showed, when his hair was wet
Ice blocks of summer how they froze the heart
black ribbon's bows now tied across
as we were Gwynevere and Lancelot
relive the moments so besot
As the dirt was cast, upon the coffins top in mourning
in wistful recall, a frank exchange and cutting wit
angels share the plans that we were forming
The missing, a miner in a cold black pit
Written by slipalong
Go To Page
PoetsRevenge
Forum Posts: 749
Dangerous Mind
29
Joined 30th June 2016Forum Posts: 749
A Ghost Called Love
Where is the heart
if not within, to wherefore
leads our past wherein
a clock which chimes tells not
the hour lest we but listen;
our fruit grow sour.
We can't know, can't see but yet
it holds true what we beget
from each ghost we need so much
and heretofore we speak as such.
What mystery and fluid form
should give such life
and ourselves warm
if not for less and all for more
unto which we give no harm.
I loved her as I love you;
ne'er a fact did ring so true --
If you be gone than so should I;
if earth be still then none could cry.
Finished we, if not by force;
surrendered to in full recourse:
Love is a ghost, a nebulous thing
and we, as doves can grow its wings.
........
if not within, to wherefore
leads our past wherein
a clock which chimes tells not
the hour lest we but listen;
our fruit grow sour.
We can't know, can't see but yet
it holds true what we beget
from each ghost we need so much
and heretofore we speak as such.
What mystery and fluid form
should give such life
and ourselves warm
if not for less and all for more
unto which we give no harm.
I loved her as I love you;
ne'er a fact did ring so true --
If you be gone than so should I;
if earth be still then none could cry.
Finished we, if not by force;
surrendered to in full recourse:
Love is a ghost, a nebulous thing
and we, as doves can grow its wings.
........
Written by PoetsRevenge
Go To Page
PoetsRevenge
Forum Posts: 749
Dangerous Mind
29
Joined 30th June 2016Forum Posts: 749
At Evenfall
Hold to the fact
that you will find
ever a patient word
uttered in a cautious mind;
Deep though it wends
into the narrow streets
of all we'd imagine
and try never with to sleep.
So lovers, they embark
on worlds so dreamed up;
and in their distant laugh
it is cherished in a brimming cup.
Yet cups can only hold
what into them is poured
and dreams only matter
when embellished in full accord.
What did I envision,
or could I have thought;
love has little meaning
until, like a fish it is caught.
The clocks are in agreement
as on the hour they chime;
life has every meaning
and searching is no crime.
But finding is another thing,
and if you do, some hope will sing;
for in this chorus a harmonious fact
of what is real and what is lacked.
A heart peddles its wares about
as one and all give in to doubt;
whilst love proves it can't be bought,
its gloaming hides beneath our thoughts.
.....
that you will find
ever a patient word
uttered in a cautious mind;
Deep though it wends
into the narrow streets
of all we'd imagine
and try never with to sleep.
So lovers, they embark
on worlds so dreamed up;
and in their distant laugh
it is cherished in a brimming cup.
Yet cups can only hold
what into them is poured
and dreams only matter
when embellished in full accord.
What did I envision,
or could I have thought;
love has little meaning
until, like a fish it is caught.
The clocks are in agreement
as on the hour they chime;
life has every meaning
and searching is no crime.
But finding is another thing,
and if you do, some hope will sing;
for in this chorus a harmonious fact
of what is real and what is lacked.
A heart peddles its wares about
as one and all give in to doubt;
whilst love proves it can't be bought,
its gloaming hides beneath our thoughts.
.....
Written by PoetsRevenge
Go To Page
Anonymous
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
We're down to about 48 hours left to enter this Classic Corner Comp. For those of you who already have, review your entries to ensure they comply to the challenge rules and correct any errors in spelling, punctuation, and grammar.
<- Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
We're down to about 48 hours left to enter this Classic Corner Comp. For those of you who already have, review your entries to ensure they comply to the challenge rules and correct any errors in spelling, punctuation, and grammar.
<- Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1871
Tyrant of Words
154
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1871
Poetry...After Midnight
The clock strikes twelve and I spring up to write
Poetry after midnight –
Which seems like a symbolic and elaborate rite
As if being anointed by the muse.
And while sleep has alluded me
I can feel my thoughts begin to take flight,
The verses spread their wings like birds
And fly off into the dark in herds
Causing my heart to have a rebellious stir
When the dream seems to be devoid of light.
And that is how I have come to use
An accord of concrete and abstract words
Composing poems for an anthology
That takes me late into the night.
Written by wallyroo92
Go To Page
Anonymous
Thank you each for braving the Classic Corner Comps! Judging is in progress and we will announce the winner asap.
Anonymous
A big thank you to all who paid tribute to this month's featured poets with unique emulations. As in previous challenges, these are very difficult to judge, and sometimes come down to a simple typo or grammatical error breaking a tie.
That being said, here are the following winners!
A Ghost Called Love by PoetsRevenge
Congratulations on winning 1ST PLACE and the TROPHEEE!
Honestly, we can't praise this entry enough, and when a poem leaves you speechless as much as this did, that leaves the room with a whole lotta awkward silence to pass the time in.
While your 2nd entry, At Evenfall, was likewise outstanding, we found that your 1st entry reminscent of Auden's "This Lunar Beauty" was superior in rhythm, which stems from a unique rhyme structure rather than the typical ABAB or ABBA afforded by classic sonnets.
"Love is a ghost, a nebulous thing
and we, as doves can grow its wings."
Such amazing lines that infer Love is a spiritual force to be reckoned with, that we in the physical plane can take to new heights.
Well done, PR!
====================
Poetry...After Midnight by wallyroo92
As much as we would love to award it a placement ... we simply can't because the challenge was to emulate W. H. Auden!
Yeats was sooo last year. Literally, because we did him last year! LOL
Nevertheless, it was a great emulation of a classic poet!
Taking cues from Yeat's "The Dawn", it impresses upon us that some behaviors are so ritualistic that we tune out everything else going on. Your poem speaks to a larger audience of night owls who come alive when the sun is down and put aside that biological imperative to sleep when darkness falls.
"And that is how I have come to use
An accord of concrete and abstract words
Composing poems for an anthology
That takes me late into the night."
There's something so magical about these lines! The mention of "concrete" evokes a sense of being taken on a midnight safari and exploration of downtown wildlife taking us late into the night.
Be mindful of how often you resort to using the word "like". Otherwise, wonderful work!
====================
Condemning the tyrant by Zaynab_kamoonpury
The initial two lines of your poem provided a very intriguing start!
"Imperfection of the world didn't bother him
as long as it served his goals and mission"
However, you didn't follow up with a story to support them. Instead your narrator deviated into a new train of thought. And then another. And another. Essentially, we learned ( six ) different things about your tyrant.
But . . . this is exactly what Auden did in the inspiration poem "Epitaph on a Tyrant". And you were tasked with emulating Auden. So . . . what's the problem?
When you emulate a writer and write about the same subject in the same way, you end up with a poem so similar, it poses nothing unique for us to get excited about. It wasn't a poem inspired by another poem. It was the same poem with different words.
Also, per the rules:
5. You MUST tag your entries with the theme #WHAuden. If the theme is currently not available, be sure to add it before the competition expires.
We are sticklers when it comes to this rule, as these CCComps are meant not only to create an awareness of classic ( and modern ) poets such as Auden, but also easy access to them through the DUP theme search function. Adding #WHAuden to your poem's notes will not help DUP generate a page for Auden.
====================
To hold cold hands by slipalong
Slip, this entry is riveting! You have an amazing voice that commands the reader's attention and that is your unique style. But in this case, your voice overpowers Auden's.
In the comments you received, DUP member Mark_Parsons summed it up nicely: it's difficult to tell where your lines end when you don't consistently use capitals to start new lines. Thus, your sentences merge together and pose confusion until we realize the lack of a capital.
Using the analogy of readers as jugglers, we drop a bowling pin every time we encounter something confusing. If we have to stop to pick up a pin while we are still juggling other pins, we're likely to drop even more pins in the process. Reading tends to come to a grinding halt. A poem should read beginning to end without a single pin dropped.
Slip, unfortunately you forgot to tag your entry with the theme #WHAuden as well!
====================
Thank you everyone for your W. H. Auden ( and W. B. Yeats ) tributes this month!
That being said, here are the following winners!
A Ghost Called Love by PoetsRevenge
Congratulations on winning 1ST PLACE and the TROPHEEE!
Honestly, we can't praise this entry enough, and when a poem leaves you speechless as much as this did, that leaves the room with a whole lotta awkward silence to pass the time in.
While your 2nd entry, At Evenfall, was likewise outstanding, we found that your 1st entry reminscent of Auden's "This Lunar Beauty" was superior in rhythm, which stems from a unique rhyme structure rather than the typical ABAB or ABBA afforded by classic sonnets.
"Love is a ghost, a nebulous thing
and we, as doves can grow its wings."
Such amazing lines that infer Love is a spiritual force to be reckoned with, that we in the physical plane can take to new heights.
Well done, PR!
====================
Poetry...After Midnight by wallyroo92
As much as we would love to award it a placement ... we simply can't because the challenge was to emulate W. H. Auden!
Yeats was sooo last year. Literally, because we did him last year! LOL
Nevertheless, it was a great emulation of a classic poet!
Taking cues from Yeat's "The Dawn", it impresses upon us that some behaviors are so ritualistic that we tune out everything else going on. Your poem speaks to a larger audience of night owls who come alive when the sun is down and put aside that biological imperative to sleep when darkness falls.
"And that is how I have come to use
An accord of concrete and abstract words
Composing poems for an anthology
That takes me late into the night."
There's something so magical about these lines! The mention of "concrete" evokes a sense of being taken on a midnight safari and exploration of downtown wildlife taking us late into the night.
Be mindful of how often you resort to using the word "like". Otherwise, wonderful work!
====================
Condemning the tyrant by Zaynab_kamoonpury
The initial two lines of your poem provided a very intriguing start!
"Imperfection of the world didn't bother him
as long as it served his goals and mission"
However, you didn't follow up with a story to support them. Instead your narrator deviated into a new train of thought. And then another. And another. Essentially, we learned ( six ) different things about your tyrant.
But . . . this is exactly what Auden did in the inspiration poem "Epitaph on a Tyrant". And you were tasked with emulating Auden. So . . . what's the problem?
When you emulate a writer and write about the same subject in the same way, you end up with a poem so similar, it poses nothing unique for us to get excited about. It wasn't a poem inspired by another poem. It was the same poem with different words.
Also, per the rules:
5. You MUST tag your entries with the theme #WHAuden. If the theme is currently not available, be sure to add it before the competition expires.
We are sticklers when it comes to this rule, as these CCComps are meant not only to create an awareness of classic ( and modern ) poets such as Auden, but also easy access to them through the DUP theme search function. Adding #WHAuden to your poem's notes will not help DUP generate a page for Auden.
====================
To hold cold hands by slipalong
Slip, this entry is riveting! You have an amazing voice that commands the reader's attention and that is your unique style. But in this case, your voice overpowers Auden's.
In the comments you received, DUP member Mark_Parsons summed it up nicely: it's difficult to tell where your lines end when you don't consistently use capitals to start new lines. Thus, your sentences merge together and pose confusion until we realize the lack of a capital.
Using the analogy of readers as jugglers, we drop a bowling pin every time we encounter something confusing. If we have to stop to pick up a pin while we are still juggling other pins, we're likely to drop even more pins in the process. Reading tends to come to a grinding halt. A poem should read beginning to end without a single pin dropped.
Slip, unfortunately you forgot to tag your entry with the theme #WHAuden as well!
====================
Thank you everyone for your W. H. Auden ( and W. B. Yeats ) tributes this month!
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16926
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16926
Congratulations! Well deserved win and placements! xo
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16926
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16926
Yo entrants. Please visit the poll in regards to the continuation of these competitions. Thankies!
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/11989/
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/11989/
PoetsRevenge
Forum Posts: 749
Dangerous Mind
29
Joined 30th June 2016Forum Posts: 749
Well, I found Auden to be a comfy couch to lean into in these troubling times, and his river of wisdom ran on and has stayed with me. The classics are always there when we need them. I am honored to win, and thank everyone for reading and commenting. The other entries were great to read
Especially, thank you to Johnny and Ahavati for their dedication in hosting and critiquing. :)
Especially, thank you to Johnny and Ahavati for their dedication in hosting and critiquing. :)