May IBPC Nominations, June Competition Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hello,

Xanadu has requested that Dichotomy Goes to The Races by wordfaery be nominated for it's originality of theme as well as it's economy of words in presenting a different slant on how we may or may not need the use of metaphor to present our message.


Dichotomy Goes to The Races


Thirty years from now
wheelchair bound, gnarly
howling scraps of heavy metal lyrics,
I won’t know I’m an essay topic.

So let me save you some trouble
forget what was said about that piece,
the one the academic egos analyzed.

The Fifth Race at Fort Erie is about
the fifth race at Fort Erie.

The horses, cheap claimers,
bony buck-shinned bays
distant cousins of the Barb, Arabian
and Turk foundation sires.

The noisy lady
peculiar yellow streaks in her white hair
with faded gingham dress,
takes the bus to the track
and only makes show bets.

The guy in the frayed brown suit
and undersized hairpiece
never looks up
from the Form until the final furlong.

Odd low-rollers hoping for a score –
exist at the Fort, Mountaineer, Santa Anita,
every race track. I intended to write about them
about manure smells and dime store cologne.
Choke down a boiled hotdog and
taste desperation in the coffee.

It’s not deep.
Don’t let them tell you differently.

There are no metaphors here.

[AMETHYST]

I would like to nominate Melodies of Life by Eira Needham for its originality, imagery and depth of meaning and story telling. There is skillful poetic techniques used through out to create a pleasing, and memorable poem.


Melodies of Life


A rhythm gently stirs the dormant earth
with tranquil harmonies. All creatures browse;
inherently they couple, giving birth,
as woods deliver buds to gravid boughs.
Soft showers suckle buttercup bouquets;
a rainbow colours mama’s lullaby.
I fly away with blue birds while she sways
me, lids becoming heavy; hush-a-bye.

I leap awake to summer's bold refrains
in verdant fields, where poppies splash their hue.
I preen myself; sap surges through my veins,
perplexing urges rousing my debut
to adolescent days. Discordant sounds
of rock enthral; my sensual desires
are vivid like the flowers. Life abounds
with energetic zest; true love transpires.

I dawdle into autumn and repose
beneath old foliage of rusty blends,
its slower tempo lulls until I doze.
I wake as desiccating leaves descend,
accepting life’s erosion with dismay.
Transformed, my look precipitates the fear
that fading blossoms wrinkle and decay;
the flush of summer fades … to disappear.

I hear the strains of winter’s chilled advance
and feel ambivalent to distant days.
As snowflakes fall, resplendent, they enhance
the stark reality of life’s malaise.
Will mist surround my mind’s befuddled dreams,
purloin my dignity when time seems false?
As cold entices sleep, the sun will gleam
once more for me to dance … that final waltz.

When winter leaves I hear its funeral dirge;
inactive life bestirs, becoming rife.
Sustaining water spills as shrubs emerge
in rhythm with the melodies of life.

This post has been edited by Cleo_Serapis: May 26 08, 07:31

Reason for edit: Revision posted