rsc4life
October 23rd, 2008, 07:06 PM
Alright, I have one submission for this poetry contest. The prize is about 500$, only 10 people are entering, I think I have a good chance. Question is... What do I submit? I've narrowed it down to two poems, but really, I have no idea whatsoever! Can i have some advice?
aluminum, plastic, or paper
Shoots of ivy
crumbling stucco
born out of cuts and bruises
not a contusion to the knee
but a flying limb
We float on the black sea
quite a bit of salt there
and serene tide pools
a heavy sun
toasting our necks
a wizened man, a car and a dog
they are merchants by trade
and then, over the Atlantic
you want to ask him a question
why that trade? why?
And he would probably tell you
that as long as he is satisfied
it is fine
and so, you walk on
a branch lies in the road
next to a farmhouse
balls of hay, for the cows, dot the fields
and you walk up 100 steps,
flip open your cellphone
dial home
No one answers, but the voice mail
You imagine it would be quite dusty
Not strewn with cleaning fluids, with burn marks on possessions
but fairly dusty
Everything is all well and good, until it gets to February
Seems misty quite a bit
Like a person caught up in the swanky business world
having handed them propaganda
early Monday mornings.
The brick fireplace helps
and the stack of wood, most of it green
and the plum trees
and the river in the backyard.
and that shack.
I'm not going in there
if I could.
A couple of hours
and you hand 40 to an algerian cabbie
and he is surprised that you are going here of all places
we're not really those kinds of people
sure, some 20 dollar chicken
but no 100 dollar soap, I hope.
And you cross the Atlantic,
a cranky man plies you with drinks
and you can't sleep.
And your back, walking around
It's warm
Odd, really, saddening, depressing, manically so...
But, home is home.
Friends are here
and you are quite comfortable in your own bed
the best comfort of home.
Untitled (so far)
sitting in a comfy red couch
duck tape and gum
formica and dirt
Gritty cups of coffee, with non-dairy creamer
and so it goes.
he listens with an open mind
and a guarded pen,
willing to place himself before the other fools.
Tacking down the greatest minds of the day
latching on to their insecurities
preying on their foolish thoughts.
conscience? I don't think so...
aluminum, plastic, or paper
Shoots of ivy
crumbling stucco
born out of cuts and bruises
not a contusion to the knee
but a flying limb
We float on the black sea
quite a bit of salt there
and serene tide pools
a heavy sun
toasting our necks
a wizened man, a car and a dog
they are merchants by trade
and then, over the Atlantic
you want to ask him a question
why that trade? why?
And he would probably tell you
that as long as he is satisfied
it is fine
and so, you walk on
a branch lies in the road
next to a farmhouse
balls of hay, for the cows, dot the fields
and you walk up 100 steps,
flip open your cellphone
dial home
No one answers, but the voice mail
You imagine it would be quite dusty
Not strewn with cleaning fluids, with burn marks on possessions
but fairly dusty
Everything is all well and good, until it gets to February
Seems misty quite a bit
Like a person caught up in the swanky business world
having handed them propaganda
early Monday mornings.
The brick fireplace helps
and the stack of wood, most of it green
and the plum trees
and the river in the backyard.
and that shack.
I'm not going in there
if I could.
A couple of hours
and you hand 40 to an algerian cabbie
and he is surprised that you are going here of all places
we're not really those kinds of people
sure, some 20 dollar chicken
but no 100 dollar soap, I hope.
And you cross the Atlantic,
a cranky man plies you with drinks
and you can't sleep.
And your back, walking around
It's warm
Odd, really, saddening, depressing, manically so...
But, home is home.
Friends are here
and you are quite comfortable in your own bed
the best comfort of home.
Untitled (so far)
sitting in a comfy red couch
duck tape and gum
formica and dirt
Gritty cups of coffee, with non-dairy creamer
and so it goes.
he listens with an open mind
and a guarded pen,
willing to place himself before the other fools.
Tacking down the greatest minds of the day
latching on to their insecurities
preying on their foolish thoughts.
conscience? I don't think so...