In the distance
Bells
Church bells
Church bells ringing
“It’s a wedding” said Magellan
“What’s a wedding? asked Marvin
“It‘s when a man and a woman join together on holy matrimony”
“But it’s two men. What is all this baloney?” Continue reading “The day the alien saw a wedding”
The residents of Slacky Bottom will be celebrating tonight, quaffing t’ local brew, gorging themselves on pickled onions ‘n t’ tripe, secure in the knowledge that Yarkshire is best.
http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2013/sep/03/yorkshire
So, Marvin, do drop in on your travels. (The name of the pub: Dew Drop Inn. Gerrit?)
Some talk of Alexandria and of Herculaneum,
Of Hexham and Lyme Regis
And of such great names as them.
But of all the world’s great hang-outs
There’s none you’ll choose from yours
Like yon heather and t’ becks, like t’ sheep and like t’ pubs
Of the God-giv’n Yarkshire Moors.
dull drunken tourists sway and stare
along the brash bare-breasted boulevard
deep purple doored on Place Pigalle my own
brocaded boudoir’s broad divan du monde
we sip encore un verre de vin
is this the coda? you say oui
and who should care? who sees you leave
but for another faceless paying guest?
(by Angelica Cinnamon Bunn for Epic Tours, Paris)
https://charioteers.org/2013/09/02/epic-september-poetry-competition/
Now for something completely different. This month’s poetry competition will follow in the footsteps of the Epic poems of the past. Think Odyssey, Think Inferno. Think Paradise Lost. OK, enough thinking. The title is Earth, subtitled stranger visits third rock from the sun.
An alien, let’s call him Marvin, has landed on Earth. He is met by Ferdinand Magellan, an immortal who still lives in our present times (poetic license and all that). The circumnavigator agrees to take Marvin on a tour of this planet. Authors are invited to submit poems on the various places FM thinks will interest the foreigner. This could be a country (Latvia), a sports ground or arena (the WACA/ Royal Albert Hall), a breed of cattle (Texas Longhorn). The world is your oyster, you decide. They don’t have to be fun poems, a little bit of tragedy adds to the mix.
Multiple entries are most welcome and can be in any format. Dialogue and blank verse will be accepted, this is an Epic after all. Don’t worry about the continuity of the poems vis-à-vis locations, it’s not like in Ferdinand’s day, Marvin has a space ship so the duo can zap from one side of the globe to the other, swiftly.
I suggest poems are published separately and linked to this page. This gives readers the chance to comment on the individual entries. At the bottom of this post I will copy the entries and the huge Epic poem will grow. In a further twist from the norm I hope no one minds if I contribute a poem or two of my own. Naturally, after the closing date I won’t vote myself the winner!
Closing date: Midnight UK time, Friday 27th September.
Earth
stranger visits third rock from the sun Continue reading “Epic (September poetry competition)”
Old Backside has had his morgenmad and done his early morning chores, this bright humid morning. So there’s time to look at this month’s pomes, three in number from our all-male contestants. Who said men can’t multi-task?
The summertime offerings were all good fun – thank you, all (FEEG, papaguinea and the royalist) – and I had to choose between PG and JW for sticking to the letter of the brief: a pome set to music of your choice. (Apologies, FEEG, if you akshully had a toon in mind!)
And the winner is – with some striking imagery and extra points for almost making the words fit the toon (!) – theroyalist! Congratulations! And over to you for September.
The winning pome: https://charioteers.org/2013/08/22/summer-caving-august-poetry-competition/
Who wouldn’t smile when Debbie laddered her tights on the stalagmites and Jack got a cave dust infection? Excellent stuff!
In deference to the persistently lazy days of summer and in eager anticipation of John Mackie’s promised contribution, Backside has decided unanimously as ever to keep the Summertime contest open until 31st August, after breakfast.
As Nat King Cole sang in 1963:
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Youll wish that summer could always be here!
I know you lot are quite a bit older than me so this generation’s offering might not be for you. The Neutron bomb, although old enough to be our big sister, did it for us. Grease is the word.
Summer Caving
Summer caving, had us a whack
Summer caving, me, Debbie and Jack Black
We got fed up with the beach
So we went somewhere out of reach
Summer caving, in the depths
To, uh oh, those summer caves Continue reading “Summer Caving (August poetry competition)”
Mid-August is somehow on the cusp – either of Autumn in Europe and some parts of the Americas or of Spring in the Antipodes. The equatorial tendency of course never quite differentiates.
So cherished versifiers, kindly be inspired to celebrate either the promise of summertime or its passing; both thoroughly deserving of your attention in the next two weeks after which you’ll be judged on the quality of your efforts.
https://charioteers.org/2013/07/25/summertime-the-august-poetry-challenge/
Pic by PS Krøyer, one of Denmark’s Golden Age painters who lived and worked in Skagen
‘Scuse me, Boa Boss! Poetry ain’t TBA no longer. It be up and running, alive and kicking, fit and well!
https://charioteers.org/2013/07/25/summertime-the-august-poetry-challenge/
‘Normous smiley wotsit.
To introduce the next competition, I can’t resist quoting a lyrical George (this week’s name, innit?):
Summertime,
And the livin’ is easy
Fish are jumpin’
And the cotton is high
Your daddy’s rich
And your mamma’s good lookin’
So hush little baby
Don’t you cry
Boadicea's Chariot 
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