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Finalist - Cracks
By Martin Myers
The dog throws a fit each morning waiting on the post,
monthly notifications from the bank mostly
changes to our repayment details,
another tight year on the cards.
Outside officials and municipal workmen
Sweep the pavement with metal detectors,
all week they have not located the burst pipe
that raises paving stones into a dozen newly filled graves.
The boys from the lough, wild feral types,
too young for pubs, too old for their mammy's knee,
keyed the paintwork on the car again,
I've seen the dull fury in their eyes
tracking my comings and goings, kids stuff in the main
dead rats on the doorstep and muttered verbals
but it all adds up; the tap, tap, tap
of the tallyman on my back.
Meantime bugs drive me bats, silverfish and wood lice
infest the place, shadow mice haunt every step,
even the ivy has taken against us
finger tendrils pushing between the conservatory cracks.
Read the signs!
In my dreams tropical forests erupt
canopies of dense greenery smothers the street,
my house, drained of light and air, buckles amongst root systems.
And, in my waking hours I see the sum of it all
every little tit-bit, every ounce of fear
all the markers of distress, the warning signs,
the hazard lights, the cold poking fingers:
next time the doorbell rings I'll hunker down
turn a blind eye
a deaf ear
a numb tongue.
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Finalist - Ring Around the Moon
By
Jay Smedley
My mother knew well before
that he would pass away.
A bad thing, sure it is, she said
as we gazed at the robin
squatting, berry-eyed, in the hallway.
And at the funeral,
driving rain compounding sadness,
she nodded quietly in acceptance,
counted sounds
as thunder grumbled.
Another two, to be sure, she said.
We lived our lives with omens;
navigated through the dread of a solitary owl hoot,
the glimpse of a new moon through glass,
crossed knives, dark-haired women in red skirts,
or, worse, nuns in twos.
Each event spelt forthcoming disaster.
Even now the sighting of a lone death crow
brings that gnawing, fresh-born fear
of unknown troubles yet to come.
We cherished brighter portents;
Rainbows, doves, rose petals
sharp-focused in the clear Wexford air,
and white feathers dropped by angels.
Blessings for the future, to be sure, she said.
And now a different land, a different time;
the past distant; echoes of memories remain.
Tonight there is a ring around the moon
and owls hoot in unison.
I hear her voice in the soft, alien breeze:
A good day tomorrow, to be sure.
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Finalist - The Interview
By
Emily Hardwick
Ok.
Have you got everything?
Money? Keys? Bags full of irrefutable confidence?
Make sure you don’t step on the cracks in the pavement, it’s bad luck.
Or is it the other way round….?
Walk in the road, just to be sure.
If a black cat crosses your path, I’ll get the champagne out.
But a black crow?
Well you might as well come home.
Don’t walk under ladders.
And if you see a penny pick it up!
That goes without saying.
Shut your eyes to a single magpie.
If the cows are sitting down, make them stand up.
Oh God! You’re not wearing green socks are you?!
Did you get the job?
No.
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Battle of the Bards Adjudicator’s Report 2006
Even though I was only asked to choose the top three from 21 short listed entries, my task was not easy.
Not surprisingly
against a background of widespread flooding and heat-waves across Europe, many of you chose to write about global warming as an omen.
Other subjects ranged from job interviews to unnatural death and
there were 21 completely individual and different approaches to the theme.
I have selected five Commended poems, which in no particular order are as follows;
1) 'Catastrophe?’.
This satirical poem is crafted in the style of the Bard, so not only takes the set theme, but also the competition title, as its inspiration. It is erudite, and funny. The argument put forward scans and rhymes cleverly, but it seems to be slightly muddled. The author laments the fact that 'contemptible grandiloquence' is 'dubbed mere rhetoric', then asks if we are forgetting 'the cannons that defined the ancient art of memorable utterance'. This seems to be contradictory, although I understood the point being made and enjoyed the author's skillful wit.
2) 'Twin Towers', which has some great phrases, 'crimson clouds grow fat like Chinese apples', 'she lifts the shell, listens for rainbows', and plenty of alliteration (perhaps a tad too much). The poem needs
a few words editing out of later lines, but overall it builds up a mood that gently, yet insistently draws the reader in.
3) 'Where are the angels?' is another poem that conveys mood through carefully
chosen imagery. Again there is a tendency to over write and losing an adjective here and there could improve rhythm as well as focusing the reader's mental image.
I liked the subtle mood change to end on a hopeful note; 'somewhere/ a lark begins to sing./ rain falls'.
4) The fourth poem I selected as Commended is a formally structured poem, ' How white the
snow that drifted on the ground.'
Deceptively simple, the villanelle is a 19 line form restricted to two rhyming sounds. The author constructed this villanelle in iambic meter; no mean feat. Whilst I believe this poem should be commended for its technical accomplishment and the mood it creates, it did not have the imagery of some of the others and didn't manage to communicate as much.
5) My fifth choice for Commended poem is 'Old Customs New Ways', 'which has a great rhythm and where the rhymes, for the most part, work really well. This poem is confidently crafted and I like
its message, though found the end a little confused. There were a couple of inverted rhymes here, but I am tempted to ask, 'does that really matter?'! And the author seemed to need a little more room to express
their conclusion.
This brings me to my two choices for the accolade of Highly Commended, which are;
1) 'Shrine', which moved me. I thought this poem cleverly crafted and liked the way the author wove
omens into the scenes, imparting an ominous gloom to such unlikely candidates as bluebells and tulips. The tree cutting the sky 'so it bled white', 'torsoless bluebells' and 'blood-red upturned tulip skirts' are all
great ways to paint a physical and emotional picture, threading it with layers of meaning. The author has skillfully used metaphor and allusion to build a picture of foreboding that passed uninterpreted until after
the event.
It is a very filmic poem and, like all good films, the subtext injects deeper meaning and wider ramifications so the
whole thing becomes a metaphor. It was a very close contender for a place in the top three.
2) 'Signs of the times', which is an incisive description of how it feels to get older, is another close contender,
also awarded Highly Commended. I particularly liked the stanza about children being whizzes on the computer. Identifying with much of this poem, I realised that what I had fondly thought of as maturing tastes, is
actually an omen of old age creeping up! I felt the final line a bit of an anticlimax, but the description of the tech-head younger generation; '...and like wizards chanting,/ steeped in some black art, create life
from dead plastic/ by pressing buttons numb to my blind prodding.'/, is sharply observed and described with originality.
This brings me to the three I have selected for your votes. These are, in
alphabetical order;
‘Cracks’, a humorous yet moody poem with some deft description,
‘Ring around the Moon’, a sensitive poem, which weaves narrative into description,
and
‘The Interview’, a light hearted approach to the theme.
I don't want to say too much about these three as I don't want to influence the voting, but in 'Cracks' there is
some fine writing. I particularly like the image of paving stones raised into a dozen newly filled graves' and the strength of the pared down language evident in phrases like 'keyed the paintwork on the car again' and 'all week they have not located...'
'Ring Around the Moon' is a thoughtful portrait of an Irish mother, which I enjoyed for many reasons. The way the author includes quotes to bring the subject to life is one.
And the way the reader is drawn not only into the family scenes but into the mind of the author as a child; learning to fear certain signs, such as the 'lone death crow' and to enjoy others; the harbingers of good fortune, such as 'rainbows, doves, rose petals'.
‘The Interview' is the sort of advice I can imagine getting from my mother. The poem is concise and pacey. The excited panic of the well wisher comes across clearly with the help of short sentences to keep
up the speed and odd juxtapositions to echo the chaotic thinking of nervous anxiety.
I have my own personal favourite from these three(I think). But, when I look again, I like one of the other two
better... And then again, maybe that third one hits the mark best of all?
Tough, isn't it?
I am sure you will enjoy all three and congratulations to their authors. It was fun reading all 21 shortlisted
entries. I have no idea who wrote which works, but I do know that reading them was no chore.
Jennie Meredith, August 2007
RESULTS
Finalists
Cracks Martin Myers
Ring Around the Moon JAY SMEDLEY
The Interview Emily Hardwicke
Highly Commended:
Shrine Sarah James
Signs of the Times David Booker
Commended:
Catapostrophe John Bayly
Twin Towers Carol MacAllister
Where are the Angels? Heather Bowery
Old Customs New Ways
Charles Clive-Ponsonby-Fane
How White the snow that drifted on the ground
Martin McRitchie.
OTHER SHORTLISTED ENTRIES
The One I Didn’t Spot? Gail Chester
Signs of the Time Ray Mather;
Apocalypse? You’re not kidding.
Julie Dawe
Fey ‘n Airy Etta Dunn
Dire Predictions Margaret
Mad as Mad is! Daisy French
Omen Shmomen Glenis Stott
A Sailor’s Regret Vic Errington,
Conscience Sara Goneos
One for Sorrow Marilyn Jenkins
Signs Along the Way Pia Briccocola
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