2016 ILX Poetry Competition

thanks, aimless!

i've been lurking for quite some time and enjoy these threads

For Soup

'What hasn't been
never will!'
and other deprivation arrows
to the heart of maudlin hysterics

That old folly
dried up and now
its face pointed at pretend instincts
not fully incubated
and NO I never saw it hatching but
"I just wanted the other children
to believe"

The poor starcasters couldn't stomach fruition
and spent their only coins divining
habitats in the desert
to turn into timeshares
no one would buy
You can still find those tarpaulin-hiders
baked to amnesia in the sand and
prey to stowaway clinicians
seeking purpose

Nightbus outliers
evade swollen cassette tape prescriptions
and live on intrusive edicts
from Paul
a teenage angel somewhere
between wall and spine
with a proclivity to
disappear for decades
WHERE ARE YOU PAUL

No representatives to offer compensation
No longer interested in backstreets encounters
Don't cast your bathwater
among swine and
don't labour the essence of desire
Ultimately live
in the brothy endeavours
of youth club memorising -
the beams are always the nicest part
of the building

If someone else posts a poem I promise to admire it.

How very inclusive of you

I was just trying to bump the damn thread, imago. Why don't you post a poem?

I too would like to read more, two out of the last three were excellent. I already submitted two so can't really contribute further, although I did write an extra verse for my last one, after a sunday afternoon in a hunpub and a drunken rewatching of Aguirre: Wrath Of God...

Give the new Star in the sky
A new Star on her shirt
Might as well give her two
For all that they're worth
New gold down the river
A new ship in a tree
Kinski twist to the camera
It's just you and the monkeys

...but I think I prefer it in the previous form. Up to youse tho really.

No one likes this poem except me. So I post it here!

Sunny Delight

First I noticed the former GE Capital associate with the fuchsia handgun
on his $185 lilac tie. He gave out
his business card next to a Danish man twirling
a Turkish woman. A Bank of America employee
left out his firm’s name
when he said he works
in Risk. We had come together
to discover the value in coming together
with other curious risk-takers,
where we belonged, taking each other
seriously. A current associate
with Goldman Sachs Group Inc.
rocked violently back
and forth
sitting in a Bergere-
it’s a chair—
as he expressed his negative outlook
regarding yuan futures
to an unseen counterparty, his eyes fixed
somewhere in mid-distance, the object unknown
or unstated. On his thigh rested
a notepad
from which I solemnly read the words
“Sunny Delight,”
a phrase which was underlined, once,
then twice—
three times-- with the final line
having been struck almost entirely through
the entire ream of paper. The pages came together
at a point, swollen with ink
beneath the D and the e, which together formed a pool
of almost perfect aqua marine, contrasting almost perfectly
with the light blue of the associate’s eyes There was a--
a swooshing!--
as his thighs came together with their natural friction and the friction of the material coming together met the truly open air
of the room, the openness of our expressions
contrasting perfectly
with the black morass
of his crossed thighs, the host of faces swimming
about his closed thighs,
with their portion of heaven
closed to each and every open,
expectant face, each and all and always
exploring the point
where the creases came
together at last, impulsively looping
and loping
and waiting for more.

well some of the line breaks are screwed up, but who could tell

nice. starts strong. kind of mires down at the end. but ending strong is always the most difficult trick to pull off.

I love the ending of that last one! All of that closing and opening and erratic ecstasy...great. Absolutely loved Gatemouth's other one as well, and reading everyone's poems in general. I hope more are to come! Is there a closing date on this or does it span all of 2016?

Gatemouth's definitely my favourites by someone I'm not cohabiting with

I'm going to do one now. As in, start and finish writing one now, while drunk and listening to Coil

GLIDING INTO THE HEXAGON

this forest bulging northerly upward

***

visiting the coast for treats we can never
diversions manned by god and foremen
we can't go to the coast, we can't go to the hills
we crunch oat-based galactic helpings
on the coach to the cliffs, past the mound that
space-giants used as a goalpost
when they played three-a-side kickball in
~the hexagon~

***

our coach got kicked quite hard! oh it's
airport not for another ten miles
no fuel, why do ducks shun to alight
soon we shall crash back down to
~the hexagon~

***

******

so we won't see the coast then, but
maybe the forest? yeah that's cool,
full of pellets and god particles. here it comes
a really big forest and we're
to glide right into it very fast
a flaming elongated molotov cocktail
full of dissatisfied holidaymakers
~THE HEXAGON~

*******************

boom! bang! fucking bang! oh fuck! we're all dead
in
~the hexagon~
but there's a giant scar on the hlllside and everybody's
a chalk cerne abbas outline
quite a few trees have been crushed
our excursion became something unforgettable
thanks god, thanks foremen
thanks most of all the space-giant who plays
centre-half for lower england
and enjoys her hours within

******

~~~THE HEXAGON~~~

I tried to think of something acerbic and witty to say but I actually just really like it so much. Please write everything like this.

Buy me alcohol

^ good title for your next poem

Rules: Copy and paste your best poems into this thread. In a few weeks we will vote on them.

― Treeship, Monday, March 28, 2016

Probably getting about time to declare a deadline.

bump in the night (or late afternoon in this time zone)

deadline is JUNE 1st

!!!!!!

Feck I thought of a title but forgot it ah well

borrow one and 'repurpose' it. 'palimpsest' is always good for another go round.

That's about the palimpsest idea I ever heard

Lines wheezed on a seat, Grand Canal, Dublin

The day dawns with a sense of muscle pain
Penance of a run ran in the rain
If this the cost to reach the age of Christ
I must confess to find it overpriced

This running toward an ever-fixed mark,
A timed fool! Bent, sickened, come, pass, come.
I admit impediment, I'm set to park
My racing heart's last race is raced and done

This ageing man wants but a pastry thing
When one has final flung the final fling
To leave the young to flinging is no wrench
The only fancy fancied now is french

If truth indeed is beauty, beauty truth
If this be all we know and all we need
My once lithe body lies belying youth
I'll pass on passing on, and go to seed

^ high impact exercise

deadline is JUNE 1st

the anticipation builds

I'm going to do another one now, like right now, while stuffed with baklava and listening to Toenut

Buy me alcohol

it's ok you don't need to buy me alcohol
i've already got crystals full of ichor, stout kegs
guarding malted broths beyond compare,
cork-stoppered amphoras in the underloft

but on the off-chance you're down that way
it's spoken of an offie with golden tins
packed seven to a
~HEXAGON~
with one at centre, and these tins contain
a philtre laced with velvet booze, the very
softest alcohol upon which head was laid

if you buy me this alcohol, i'll be -
but no, there's no obligation. forget that.
no liquor truly might outmatch my hoard
for any practicable purpose. except there's one

of which is whispered little, a wooden gourd
in carriage with a stone, whose dipping is
essential. it's only sold in one major chain -
which one i do not know. finding it is hard,
buying it harder still, for what plea is this
but one whose scorning is a simple matter?

"i did not find your alcohol. but look, i brought
the 24-year islay. will this do?"
it'll have to.

very talented ppl on this thread. will assemble the poll tomorrow or over the weekend.

um hey little extension? if i get it in in like... 30 minutes?

Granted

eluviation

oh hey you’re crying
and we’ve only just met
making this a best performance that once
we’ve departed will be submitted
to a book of records where
names and dates and figures
outlive our crumbling bodies

i’ve told you about
our endless time when
minute hands walk backwards and
you’ve told me about frozen chambers
where flesh is made eternal
icy eyes that see visions
of digital carapaces carried on
glittered eyelashes of languid electric camels

it is just easier you said
to preserve your corpse for a low monthly rate
of just $29.99
than prepare your soul
but my hands are already deep in a basin
100% pure olive oil
to cleanse my sins

nor shall death brag
that in decay it discovered within my white bones
a heart you said i never had
embalm then unsex me
be not proud
caged in a frosted forever
that you will whisper psalms over my grave

as i am eaten by worms
just a vigilant statue overlooking
what is even now
barely a memory
and an empty blazed desert devoid of life
that looks back waiting waiting without end
to wake you up with soft
whispers carried across sand that echoes our poetry

I had to look up your title. that's one sweet word you've got there, sir.

ty

Treesh, since putting the poll together is more or less a straightforward copy-and-paste task, how about I do it for you? You are probably busier than I am.

That would be a big help honestly if you don't mind.

I definitely do not mind.. It's almost in the hopper, even as I write this.

POLL: 2016 ILX Poetry Competition Voting