Poetry competition CLOSED 27th May 2023 9:04am
WINNER
Abracadabra
Abracadabra
RUNNERS-UP:
Razzerleaf
and neves
I know why there’s always pens in your pockets
Poetry & I
I write because I do not sing/
Insecurity prevents
having an unlimited access
to the performing arts/
I reasoned poetry would suffice/
plus it too is timid/
we acknowledged each other's weaknesses and created in silence/
To question what it does for me/
is to question why bother breathing/
What could be more important than both/ breathing and in possession
of a subtle form of expression/
The evening's pleasant/
Ideal for catching language/
upon the canvas my pen applies itself/
With eyes closed/ Submerged in the process
I'm consumed with the intentions
of painting a perfect picture/
Insecurity prevents
having an unlimited access
to the performing arts/
I reasoned poetry would suffice/
plus it too is timid/
we acknowledged each other's weaknesses and created in silence/
To question what it does for me/
is to question why bother breathing/
What could be more important than both/ breathing and in possession
of a subtle form of expression/
The evening's pleasant/
Ideal for catching language/
upon the canvas my pen applies itself/
With eyes closed/ Submerged in the process
I'm consumed with the intentions
of painting a perfect picture/
Written by meandno1else
Go To Page
Why do I Write ?
The notion of pens and paper in my pocket strikes a chord.
When I first started writing I actually carried a small pad and wrote long hand.
Then with some praise from fellow DUP members the poems came fast and furious.
There was no time for long hand, it was anything electronic to do the deed.
But why was I writing?
I was encouraged by a nephew who thought I should write.
He thought novel, I thought narrative poems.
The rest is history ...
There have been close to 1900 poems since autumn of 2013.
Not including the 700 I deleted for being repetitive.
Here is one of my first poems.
I was new, I didn't know what I was doing, no form.
I just wrote ....
NYC Romance
Dead of Winter
New York City
Translucent blue sky
Icy cold
Waiting for Darkness
Universal Wilderness
Let the leafless trees tell the story
Going home to you
A glass of wine
Dinner on the stove
Heartbeats
Your Gaze
This romance
Written by PoetSpeak
Published 9th Jan 2014
It's close to 10 years later
The question remains
Why do I write ?
The answer is, how can I not !!
When I first started writing I actually carried a small pad and wrote long hand.
Then with some praise from fellow DUP members the poems came fast and furious.
There was no time for long hand, it was anything electronic to do the deed.
But why was I writing?
I was encouraged by a nephew who thought I should write.
He thought novel, I thought narrative poems.
The rest is history ...
There have been close to 1900 poems since autumn of 2013.
Not including the 700 I deleted for being repetitive.
Here is one of my first poems.
I was new, I didn't know what I was doing, no form.
I just wrote ....
NYC Romance
Dead of Winter
New York City
Translucent blue sky
Icy cold
Waiting for Darkness
Universal Wilderness
Let the leafless trees tell the story
Going home to you
A glass of wine
Dinner on the stove
Heartbeats
Your Gaze
This romance
Written by PoetSpeak
Published 9th Jan 2014
It's close to 10 years later
The question remains
Why do I write ?
The answer is, how can I not !!
Written by PoetSpeak
Go To Page
None of your business
The toilets in A&E
have changed the lights to UV
stops me pushing pencils in my veins
and just retching bile
while trying not to kneel
at the pube ridden porcelain alter.
No one darns stockings any more
but I know why she did
when she smelled of strong tea
deafened by the TV nobody watched,
tracing the lines of her face
on see through toilet paper
that cut your arse like blunt razor blades.
Thoughts carved and counted
on cell block walls, iterations of
all the teeth bones blood and muscle
smashed through the grinder
and out into shinny sausage skins.
We notice the hand that shakes
and decide we know why
without ever daring to ask
and, well, you believe us
because we believe in ourselves.
Ability is abstract so don't look at me
like that.
have changed the lights to UV
stops me pushing pencils in my veins
and just retching bile
while trying not to kneel
at the pube ridden porcelain alter.
No one darns stockings any more
but I know why she did
when she smelled of strong tea
deafened by the TV nobody watched,
tracing the lines of her face
on see through toilet paper
that cut your arse like blunt razor blades.
Thoughts carved and counted
on cell block walls, iterations of
all the teeth bones blood and muscle
smashed through the grinder
and out into shinny sausage skins.
We notice the hand that shakes
and decide we know why
without ever daring to ask
and, well, you believe us
because we believe in ourselves.
Ability is abstract so don't look at me
like that.
Written by Razzerleaf
Go To Page
Words barely describe the gargantuan sense of pride I feel today on learning I had won this important trophy.
I am truly humbled to receive the fabulous cash prize and more importantly the free lifetime multi-coloured assortment of biros so generously donated by our sponsor.
But we should never forget how fortunate we all are to enjoy the freedom to write what we please, whenever we please as there are still many in our world who are sadly denied that right, compelled to eke out a miserable existence without a single pocket or pen to their name. One lost soul denied free expression is one too many.
It would also seem rude not to mention the sacrifices of the British infantry regiments of the 1930's who pioneered today's ubiquitous cargo pants which the serious scribbler relies on so mightily for storage, a real boon when smitten by frantic al fresco composition.
We have indeed travelled light years from the inkwell, the quill and the portable bureau with which I suspect Shakespeare was bound to encumber himself every time he left the house.
Alas, I fear this may be my final compo as my own life struggles exact ever increasing demands on my time.
Well done to everyone and a big thank you Missy.
~ Abra
I am truly humbled to receive the fabulous cash prize and more importantly the free lifetime multi-coloured assortment of biros so generously donated by our sponsor.
But we should never forget how fortunate we all are to enjoy the freedom to write what we please, whenever we please as there are still many in our world who are sadly denied that right, compelled to eke out a miserable existence without a single pocket or pen to their name. One lost soul denied free expression is one too many.
It would also seem rude not to mention the sacrifices of the British infantry regiments of the 1930's who pioneered today's ubiquitous cargo pants which the serious scribbler relies on so mightily for storage, a real boon when smitten by frantic al fresco composition.
We have indeed travelled light years from the inkwell, the quill and the portable bureau with which I suspect Shakespeare was bound to encumber himself every time he left the house.
Alas, I fear this may be my final compo as my own life struggles exact ever increasing demands on my time.
Well done to everyone and a big thank you Missy.
~ Abra
Anonymous
Abracadabra said:Words barely describe the gargantuan sense of pride I feel today on learning I had won this important trophy.
I am truly humbled to receive the fabulous cash prize and more importantly the free lifetime multi-coloured assortment of biros so generously donated by our sponsor.
But we should never forget how fortunate we all are to enjoy the freedom to write what we please, whenever we please as there are still many in our world who are sadly denied that right, compelled to eke out a miserable existence without a single pocket or pen to their name. One lost soul denied free expression is one too many.
It would also seem rude not to mention the sacrifices of the British infantry regiments of the 1930's who pioneered today's ubiquitous cargo pants which the serious scribbler relies on so mightily for storage, a real boon when smitten by frantic al fresco composition.
We have indeed travelled light years from the inkwell, the quill and the portable bureau with which I suspect Shakespeare was bound to encumber himself every time he left the house.
Alas, I fear this may be my final compo as my own life struggles exact ever increasing demands on my time.
Well done to everyone and a big thank you Missy.
~ Abra
Dearest Abra,
I trust you find the enclosed set of rainbow biros will rest nicely in an anorak pocket ready to sketch a train or two. As for the cash prize, please find enclosed 100 Francs to spend at your nearest Primark. Possibly a Burger King.
Thank you for taking the time to enter this humble little contest. Your entry to me encapsulated somebody that gave a true shit about pens, and where to keep them. I always liked that in a human.
Lastly, I hope you find time for us when you’re out there sketching trains. I hope the extra drachma included will bribe the ticket official. I’m sure the British infantry will approve. Still, thank you for your entry. It is I that is honoured. Please never doubt your place here. We need you like a biro needs a lid.
-M
I am truly humbled to receive the fabulous cash prize and more importantly the free lifetime multi-coloured assortment of biros so generously donated by our sponsor.
But we should never forget how fortunate we all are to enjoy the freedom to write what we please, whenever we please as there are still many in our world who are sadly denied that right, compelled to eke out a miserable existence without a single pocket or pen to their name. One lost soul denied free expression is one too many.
It would also seem rude not to mention the sacrifices of the British infantry regiments of the 1930's who pioneered today's ubiquitous cargo pants which the serious scribbler relies on so mightily for storage, a real boon when smitten by frantic al fresco composition.
We have indeed travelled light years from the inkwell, the quill and the portable bureau with which I suspect Shakespeare was bound to encumber himself every time he left the house.
Alas, I fear this may be my final compo as my own life struggles exact ever increasing demands on my time.
Well done to everyone and a big thank you Missy.
~ Abra
Dearest Abra,
I trust you find the enclosed set of rainbow biros will rest nicely in an anorak pocket ready to sketch a train or two. As for the cash prize, please find enclosed 100 Francs to spend at your nearest Primark. Possibly a Burger King.
Thank you for taking the time to enter this humble little contest. Your entry to me encapsulated somebody that gave a true shit about pens, and where to keep them. I always liked that in a human.
Lastly, I hope you find time for us when you’re out there sketching trains. I hope the extra drachma included will bribe the ticket official. I’m sure the British infantry will approve. Still, thank you for your entry. It is I that is honoured. Please never doubt your place here. We need you like a biro needs a lid.
-M
