Monday, January 15, 2007

One Week Poetry Contest

First Edition.

Best poem posted on this thread wins. (I still have some Wendy's coupons left.)

Deadline: One week from now.

I'll start things off.

"POET ON THE BEACH"

Bongo drums go beat beat beat
bongo drums go beat
hipster be bop cool cat go!
poet on the beach
goattee wearing sunglass'd dude
Hawaiian shirt,
attitude
versify to all the world!
poetry is cool.
Sitting cross-legged in the sand
Rebel warrior, rights of man!
protest sounds, peace and love,
watch him play for all he's worth
seagulls watching, rising surf
Recite those words! Yell that verse!
snapshot tourists,
syncopated bum.
Darkened evening, sun goes flat
red-lined sky,
He takes the change that's in the hat
and says goodbye.
Echoes follow,
lingered rhythmn
seagulls watch him go
and little children
Hope he'll return tomorrow.

13 comments:

Wred Fright said...

The Nightly News
by Wred Fright

Bush
Bush
Terrorism Terrorism Terrorism Terrorism
Fear Fear We’re Selling Fear
Commercial Break
Lies
Lies
Lies
Denial of Lies
Kowtowing to Authority
Deference to Power
Commercial Break
Bullshit
Bullshit
Bullshit
Corporate Shilling
Sucking Up to Advertisers
Commercial Break
Weather
Hysteria
Hype
Commercial Break
Sports
Banter
More Lies
More Bullshit
Commercial Break
Sucking Up to the Government
Kissing Up to Big Business
Commercial Break
Entertainment Gossip
Bread and Circuses
Good Night!

seanmh said...

hey nice idea yo. this is called "so this is how it's gonna be?" and if you dont make me win i'm gonna cry.

ok so this is how it’s gonna be?
separate peaces?
baseball games in imaginary fields?
no hope in fractured reality anymore?
songs about dreams
forced lyricism
haikus about a disappearing globe
putting all our energy into angelfire websites
black on black
splashes of red
been seeing these things for the lifetime
of a kid in a trenchcoat
hiding semiautomatics
instead of erections
hiding murder nightmares
when he should be singing in a band
writing poems to his muse.
“fuck this shit”
should never be a cliche

so this is how it’s gonna be?
bumpersticker wars
billionaire corporation whores
a selfish and crude one percent
safe in towers
from the sane and unrestless billions -
the only billions they should fear -
the billions of queers
the billions of maids they made
the billions of bitches they kept
the billions of dicks they swept
the billions of losers they killed
the billions of blooddead they spilled

so this is how it’s gonna be!
you’re gonna get up off your fucking chair
you’re gonna back up out of your rocking chair
you’re gonna swing on the back doors of reformed hobos
eating their pie
diddling their sky
you’re gonna bleed ink
until they cry
and the revolt will be loud
and will leave many behind
and the pedestals made of paper
and their traces theyll find
in a billion years
amid a billion ashes
of billionaires
and crooks
like you.

M.D.G. said...

Keep your Wendy's coupons

The Storm

George he said
With a gleam in his eye,
The insurgents must die!
A smirk on his face
Economic sanctions
For the poor of america.
An economic storm
To hit as hard as Katrina did the poor.

We’re all too busy trying to eat
To kick the revolution off.
Circles are for squares anyway.
Clever word play
Can only get you so far in this world.
You can’t take that to the world bank.
It can’t buy you food or pay the rent.
We have to be professionals.
Bow down to capitalist gods.

My dad used to tell me
Socialism is the only way.
But I walked that path,
Found another dead end.
The path was man made,
Full of catches and flaws.

So I bought deodorant
To protect me from the stench of “isms”
From the right or left.
It all seems to meet in the middle as the same agenda.

But who would believe that kind of
Con job, snow job,
Still no jobs
To make ends meet.
Like a monkey dancing to the beat
Of the frantic organ grinder.
Grinding away,
Future crushed to dust.
We’re all just spectators
As the corporate appointed captain
Sinks the ship.

It was an inside job.
Just like nine-eleven
They blame something
Vague like terrorist
For sinking the ship.
Teflon men,
Nothing sticks.

The jobs are in the military.
Listening to the phone lines,
Policing the information super highway.
I hear the C.I.A. is hiring.
I guess recruiting at Yale
Is not digging up enough skull & bones.
Jobs in law enforcement,
More cops on the streets.
I don’t feel safer,
Do you?

Homeland insecurity,
March of the zombies
Elite and apathetic
Bought upper deck seats
To watch the ship sink.
They’ll feel bad
Like they did for Katrina victims.
They’ll fly
Corporate flags at half mass for us.

seanmh said...

whee!

georgie took a check to the bank today
he said ‘i got cash and i’m gonna spend it away’
georgie took a check to the bank today
he spent the cash on liquor and drugs, liquor and drugs
sex and god, sex and god, sex and god
he spent the cash on women and bombs
gambling and cons, gambling and cons, gambling and cons

georgie sat upon his throne and snored
he kept the heads of the bulls he gored
george sat upon his throne and snored
he dreamt of dragons and wine, dragons and wine
drooling and dumb, drooling and dumb, drooling and dumb
he dreamt of witches and coke, witches and coke
colors and cars, colors and cars, colors and cars

georgie did a line today
he snuffed it up his nose
he shared some with his ol frat friends
what he cant think, he cant know

georgie killed a kid today
he snuffed him out at school
dropped a ton of acid and fire
then fell asleep and began to drool

georgie, climb into that hole
we dont want you round here no more
georgie, live off rats and mites
dont forget to lock the door

georgie took a check to the bank today
he said ‘i got cash and imonna spend it, brother, brother’
georgie took a check to the bank today
dressed in a batman mask and ladies’ underpants
they opened fire at half past noon
and shot poor georgie in his spoon
liars and cheats, justice and peace, save us please

Victor Schwartzman said...

What If I Had Only A Few Hours To Live?


At any time I could walk outside and be hit by a falling space toilet.
So. Should I:
pay these bills--so I won’t leave debts?
watch tv--and laugh my last hours away?
do the laundry--so my corpse will be freshly dressed?
take a nap--so I die refreshed?
mow the lawn--so the neighbours will feel better?
ground my daughter--for staying out late and enjoying life?
say good-bye to my family--or try to take them with me?
make love or have sex--can I do both at the same time?
go for a walk--so I will croak physically fit?

What if I had only a few hours to live?
Maybe I need more time.

King Wenclas said...

Some good entries so far-- I hope to see more variety in choice of topics!
I'm not sure who this "George" character is everyone is discussing, but I suspect he's a mediocrity, a stooge temporarily inhabiting a chair or a room like a cardboard prop and I'm not sure he's worth seriously talking about!
(Mad King George?)

M.D.G. said...

Oh come on Karl. That one is a favorite of the pigeons.

Victor Schwartzman said...

My vote to date is for Wred's poem. I'd sure vote for it over mine.

It perfectly synopsizes a typical mainstream news report, it's a good poem, it's funny.

What more does an award winning poem need?

King Wenclas said...

Who can judge a poetry contest at a time like this?
(Poetry, btw, was the field most infiltrated by the CIA. The Matt Damon character in the recent movie with Jolie about the CIA is a poet in the story.)
A close call, but I have to give the edge to Sax and "so this is how," because I like the rhythmn of the words a bit better than the others. The thing is, well, more poetic. No doubt when read aloud, Sax wouldn't be able to match MDG's voice, but the words on the screen are all I have to go by.
Anyway, all in harmony and fun.
Sax, better e-mail me a snail address so I can mail you those Wendy's coupons.
Thanks to all involved.
There WILL be another poetry contest down the road.

food said...


very nice! I like.

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