March IBPC Nominations, April Competition Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

HI,

I'd like to nominate the following poem, Ciaron's Dream by Larry for its beautiful rhythms, imagery and profound look at history.

Best of luck!
~Cleo

Ciaron's Dream

Cluain Mhic Nois

Three saints stand watch o’er northern gate
to meadows of the sons of Nor
where chiefs and warriors laid in state
‘neath green and gorse of Shannon’s shore.

Thrice buttressed path from Ciaron’s hand
led all who trod this hallowed place
to masters, teaching in that land
a higher learning, pious grace

within a stark monastic clime.
The centuries are on display
from crypts and castles built through time
to broken cross in disarray.

A place of temples, church and walls
with blessings sprinkled on the ground,
the last High King rests in these halls
until the horns of Heaven sound.

Fair Erin, ravaged from afar
by Viking’s axe and Norman's blade,
returns to beauty from each scar
more lovely, strong and unafraid.

[AMETHYST]

I would like to nominate Crypt-Keepers' Irony By Lori Kanter for the strength of subject, and how the images deepen the image. The story line is fresh and the subject isn't one often come by written with such a masterful pen. I found this to be further complimented by the form. This is a must read poem!

Crypt-Keepers’ Irony

He wanders tombs through dark of night
in search of treasures to alight
a path to riches, sweet perfumes.
Through dark of night, he wanders tombs.

This thirst he seldom seems to quench
consuming dust’s archaic stench
whilst raiding chambers, sneers death’s curse...
he seldom seems to quench this thirst.

Inscriptions warn of punishment
in frail hereafter: life’s lament
defiled - lest one Pharaoh’s scorn
of punishment, inscriptions warn.

Adorned facade discreetly hid
Necropolis’ broken lid
that once beheld doubt’s living god --
discreetly hid, adorned facade.

In Thebes amid disunity,
Stonemasons’ opportunity
is shared in Nile’s mild reeds
amid disunity -- in Thebes.

Crypt-keepers feign incompetence
whitewashed in deben bribe's defense
while Ma’at is droned through priestly reign;
incompetence -- crypt-keepers feign.

This irony remains today,
the ones in power do betray
a nourishing of Ka campaigns.
Today, this irony remains.

Copyright © Lorraine M Kanter

Footnotes:
Necropolis: An extensive and elaborate burial place serving an ancient city

Deben: A measurement of cost (a copper weight of .5 ounces) used as the unit of value for exchange, calculating value directly from the weight of gold for items of higher value, and from the weight of copper for less valuable items in an economy without coinage. A simple laborers pay was equal to 100 deben for 10-15 months work.

Ma’at: The concept of order, truth and justice. After death, a person's soul is weighed against the feather of Ma'at to determine their fate in the afterworld.

ka (in Ancient Egyptian Religion): A spiritual ‘double’ of the deceased, living within the body during life, and surviving the body after death. It was believed to be one of two spirits inhabiting the body, the main component of the soul. The ka is closely tied with the ba, the personality or psychic force of the deceased.

[AMETHYST]

I had to honor this poem Stiff Upper Lip By Ron Jones for its skilled meter, naturual rhythm and excellent rhymes through out. It is witty and yet, keeps the reader focused on the underlying message. It is truth said in jest and it works quite well. I enjoyed the alliteration through out and how the sounds seem to make the verse dance about in the same frolicky tone as the meaning of the words...

Best Regards, Liz ...

Listen my children, I'll help you talk "hip"
and use the expression , "keep a stiff upper lip".

If you be a trooper, spec'ly a Brit,
at attention as a statue you must commit.
Not a twitch or a wink, you will stand sphinxlike straight!
As a soldier of England, you, mate, are sedate.

So a growth on the lip, ev'ry hair in its place
needs a "stiff upper lip", or a bout with disgrace!

[Cleo_Serapis]

Thanks Liz!

I humbly accept the nomination!

~Cleo

[Cleo_Serapis]

I'd like to nominate Sylvia's poem, GAIA for it's grand imagery and content. Beautiful!

Best of luck!
~Cleo



GAIA

To unwind, to dream,
beneath the canopy of a willow-tree!
I wander your prairies, Gaia,
picture sunflowers smile
at summer skies,
charting the sun’s orbit till nightfall.

Vast terrains pretend to slumber,
guarded by languid owl-eyes
stalking slinky felines
and other unseen creatures of night.

I sleep beneath my leafy umbrella
as frogs croak the onset of dawn,
heralding showers flirting with rainbows.
In dreams I circumnavigate
mountain lakes, sight naissance of rivers.

I recite poems that nobody wrote,
wondrous words dormant in memories of the dead.
I gaze at Gothic cathedrals, the Taj Mahal,
Roman aqueducts dominating Italic olive groves,
Alexandria’s library perished beneath the sea.

Libelious lies and carnage disrupt my trance.

Where has love gone,
where the chubby toes of children?
Why does blossom wither by waysides?
Nuclear submarines inflame sapphire seas…

I've shared hope with shipwrecked migrants,
blending homage and heartache.
I am a refugee seeking a fresh life,
or just life...
I dream the dreams of all men.

I conjure up dust-bowls on Austral steppes,
Amazonia gutted by russet roads,
thawing glaciers thunder Andean slopes.

Ice cubes tremble in my crystal tumbler,
as I offer a toast to Gaia,
to mystery, unreason, riddles,
the paradox of her existence in space-time,
to reality.

Reality is the destruction I have caused her.
It is mourning a death foretold,
though Death is not her death
but mine.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.

This post has been edited by Cleo_Serapis: Mar 20 08, 11:33

Reason for edit: Revised version

[Psyche]

Thank you, Lori, for nominating my poem GAIA. Permission granted, but I believe I'm in the wrong thread again...
And there have been plenty of changes in my poem, during the last couple of days!
Hugs, Sylvia ***