2013 ILE Poetry Contest POLL

Richard, Wash Your Hands

Richard, you and me need
to really have a talk
About the kind of subject
that I normally would balk

It's about something that
usually makes me rather sick
But your lack of hygiene means
I have to do something quick

You might think it something
that really doesn't show
But many people have found out
in case you didn't know

You're an adult and this habit
must really now desist
It doesn't matter that you're
a well known physicist

Maybe you think it's funny
or perhaps you just don't understand
But it's gross when you take a leak
and then don't wash your hands

― Camp Macaroni Style (snoball)

An angler, blaming not his line
(passed as was from father to father)
must then look on scant catch
and wonder at the flaw of cast
or on a changing current's lather
and wondering, ask

Did my father, did his father
wonder at scant catch
Was each given to examine his cast?
Or did he, did they
cast each time
as the rod pointed
as the tide allowed
as the bait presented?
If not,
By what measure flows the line?

I have wondered on the task of each,
in time passed from the father before.
Moulded, shaped and cast along a line
out to changing tide from a lonely shore

― i gave ten pounds and all i got was a lousy * (darraghmac)

Libra

The capacity for anger,
the capacity for kindness,
for concern
for the welfare
of dead cats
as I lay is the word
ensconced
in the floor- in the
sunshine in the floor
and the dust that is
also that sunshine
and the sun it is
pretty bright
when I wake
up from those cubicle days,
bourbon nights,
and more days, more
time to choose
which type of container are you, which
seascape pulls you through
the particle board
and pushes your face
to the floor, your cheek
to the pavement
and leaves you there
wondering
how ants build cities
in the gaps, little
cracks
in all the things you build
your life around.

― Gatemouth

After Reading in Su Tung-P'o

In spite of my grayshot scraggy beard
I don't think of myself as an old man.
I do not dream incessantly of past times.
I make plans that stretch out for years.
Whenever I like, I can walk all day long.
The wrinkles in my face are not yet deeply set.
Are these the traits of one who nears life's end?

But when I consult the whole truth
I easily see how far behind me is my youth,
How carefully I spend from my store of strength
As if I counted coins out of a small purse.
My flights are now low ones, well spaced apart.
Prudence is as welcome to me as my bed of rest.
There is no mirror left on any wall
To show me that bright heedless man I once was.

― Aimless

Aftertaste of Birth

Look at these magnificent viaducts!
I stuttered while I scissorfucked a girl aimlessly,
two heathens at cross purposes.
Oversharer, you should have started elsewhere.

Senators open love letters chockablock with ricin.
But why not mandrake, or wolfsbane?
Mark E. Smith knew his haruspex from his anthrax
though admittedly a great flabby flapping cunt was he.

Am I not a man? Do I not LOL?
Maybe Father was right.
It's a numbers game.
I should just stick to my cards.
Miracles happen every day.

Now you insist
everything's already been said,
and probably better, by others.

Why do you denigrate what you do not understand?
It's preferable to understand nothing.
You should try it.
It's working for a lot of people.

Some people won't stop saying
IN TODAY'S WORLD
and those are the ones we hate.
IN TODAY'S WORLD
some people never learn.
IN TODAY'S WORLD
some people are always the problem.

Give us Barrabbas,
they cry in the darkness,
forsooth, forsooth.

I bet you don't even know what that means.
Close your browser. We're done here.

― truth bomb lawyer mean mean pride (Edward III)

"The Contrary Blues"

Born in the haze of a summer afternoon
Children's hospital San Francisco Dr James Muldoon
The caul was on my brow There was no sugar on my spoon
I heard the Crossroads Blues as my nursery tune

I was a contrary baby Contrary to nature's plan
And now this contrary baby has grown into a contrary man

My momma tried to tell me life don't last too long
She said it's the only pleasure that you just cannot prrooollloooonnngg
She said walk lightly through this world Don't stomp like old King Kong
But something somehow somewhere went HORRIBLY WRONG

Now I'm a contrary man This is my contrary pome
I never knew nobody's house I did not call my home

I go out to the circus every time it is in town
Pull the beard off the bearded lady Beat the shit out of every clown
I only chew my food eight times and then I gulp it down
And if you ask my favorite color I will tell you "Doo Doo Brown"

I'm a contrary man I sing a contrary rhyme
You know I pull my pants on two legs at a time

I'll pick your daughter up at seven Have her home by eight
Leave my leafy vegetables untouched upon my plate
I never clipped no coupons My library books are late
I fold and then I spindle And then I mutilate

Cause I'm a contrary man I spin a contrary yarn
And now I'm gonna hit you with the broad side of a barn

I brush my teeth with Borax / Gargle with a cake
Never liked the Lorax / That environment shit's a fake
I'll wrap around your thorax / Like a boa constrictor snake
I'm the milk I'm the sugar I'm a frosted fuckin flake

And I'm a contrary man Just ringin those bells
Got more evil in my little finger Than anywhere elzzzz

― @GracieLoPan #fyi (Display Name (this cannot be changed):)

The Pissing, Beware

If one must thieve, do it elsewhere
- The plain-clothes common-coursers could be close
And should your bladder shake and heave
The implication is – you too beware
Caught bestride a holly sapling, full gush
Or down, doggish by a hollow log
Discreetly risen, only seen by
Mother crisp frowning afternoon waistline jog
Better this than a breach of the peace in somebody’s home
Better this than a spoilt child’s coy spray report
Best to piss where it can be controlled
In fading rivulets of what could be the clouds’ work, or a dog’s,
Offending only those yet worse aggrieved by fat
Or those who make sport of that fatal compact –
Drake-gang shun runt flyaway pylon-fizz flat –
“Our floury trash to victors’ gizzards!”
Algae spreads and uric acid
Spills remorselessly through soil sewers
Brown water turns yellow,
Fish strangle each other, Old Man Heron ruptures,
Park-keeper – O undone park-keeper!
Forty years you’d bathe in your bathing-hat –
Kids’d fling chips, or quoits –
Like a dolphin –
Now he weeps in the control-centre
Hammers the panic button dyspeptically
As in the jogger-mother’s earpiece
Beep after beep after beep –
Here he is
Unambitiously behind a plane tree
Guilty cock in hand
Thief

― once a week is ample, Thursday, 10 November 2011 23:12 (1 year ago)

― have a nice Blog (imago)

Before creating Family Guy and American Dad, Wm S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin did punch-up work for the Simpsons:

'we steal the car, right?'
'Somebody up there likes me.'
'Is your wife up here?'

'My friends, do not eat.'
'A candy corn volcano!'
'Fire it up, boys.'

'Fresh out of ice cream!'
"But I'm not coming back yet."
'In your face, Belgium!'

'A chocolate husband!'
'You mean like', 'Child Labor Day?'
'Oh, it shines so bright.'

'Congratulations.'
'"Can I Borrow a Feeling?"'
'Not me. I got this.'

― Philip Nunez

Pink Slime

We saw you at the meeting,
We saw you in the back,
Slipping out, discretely,
With pink slime.
We were all disturbed by the pink slime.

Don't deny it.
There is nowhere.
It's not okay.
It simply is.

― Treeship

Untitled

i.

hold me in terror
anticipate ruptures that don't dare to speak
capitalize on the tragedy of legs blown off at the knees
monetize poetry to make status shifting moves
lay me down on the grass
touch my leg
after boston it's barbaric
kissing is barbaric lips peeled
help me oh god
fuck fuck me
i feel like we've been on our second date forever
when does history end already?

ii.

footage of
a snow wheel
barrow
glazed with red

― Mordy http://www.ilxor.com/s.png

STUCK

Precipitously
We fell into a
Silence of eyes: our
First communion.

― Beatrix Kiddo (Raymond Cummings)

Alchemy Lost

I had alchemy skills, once
A neccesary gift to lift the lead from my heart
And even if the gold weighed just as much
It was at least of some value

Seems this skill has left me now
The lead levels are at critical mass
I have heavy limbs
They are breaking everything they touch

― It is like ganging up on Enya (Trayce)

24.

At 15 I had faith in the internal consistency of my opinions.
Or I remember having had this.
Or I remember remembering this.

Full disclosure:
I remember that I remembered remembering this,
Very recently.

Faith remembered is different but the same as
Faith lost,
A leap of faith into a canyon,
An A+ paper,
A wasted moment,
The moon.

I don't know now if I ever was in love,
Or if love is real,
Or if it is social construct,
Or if social constructs are real,
Or why wouldn't they be?

I have an opinion on why this matters,
On why I matter,
And you:
I have an opinion about you too.

And here's the part where I tell you why it matters.

― Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the (Treeship)

City Crows

Crows will separate to nest
And raise woodstraw strewn
Leftover sucklers of pups
Who scream when lonely
Like broken glass.

They will chitter to attract mates
And offer tasty meals of rot.
Crows kiss with clacking
And though feathers are well spit-slicked sleek
Their stubby little wings can't hug.

From those high up separate carrion nests
They perch and observe this Saturday night.
Monocled heads cocked and sporting suede vests
On the watch for spoiled food,
They'll ignore the bewildering plumaged sights
As people, idiot creatures, flock.

― stefon taylor swiftboat (s.clover)

How past

How past the past may potentially recede!
A bastard string of new beginnings, boastfully begun
and by that token truncated, just half there
in a wasteland with definite width
inscribed across flesh to fantasy, wounds inspiring flight
as would a trail of imagined slights, silent stigma
of being for others, bending, so as not to break
How distant old heartache, homes, even dreams
in Manhattan's midday crowds and heat I marvel
at the subtlety of auspicious beginnings, so secret
as though unnoticed, until all is underway.
The ground that shifts is a vessel, that rumbling the rail.
Some take, some give or stand their ground, some simply do.
New digs, new take. New town, God I love you!

― stefon taylor swiftboat (s.clover)

Regarding Time

What exists exists
for the benefit of a lit torch,
young lives hungering
through all of that space
between us

I made a list of all the things
in the world I missed
and it was a perfect white
page, or rather the page was
yellow- and I am only off-white,
on my better days-
but the days would continue mysteriously
to get better, or at least lighter, until finally
they would cease to exist.

Then we'd release the evening
like a band of mist
all around us

― Gatemouth

The MacGuire Building, to Be Demolished

Here, at the entrance, we will place a small silver cameo
skin shitting bricks into the immediate atmosphere
wrapped in Tyvek and tiers of scaffolding
sheet rounded hospital blue

Then a room, an unknown man's recorded voice
dark walls haze like curtain smoke
soft walls flex to silent rhythm
thoughts half traced, the unframed sky

The angle of the camera (imaginary) is low
placed to suggest the looming divine
woven into his speech, a constant sigh of aspiration
"Now," he says, "the great wheel of heaven."

Wood blinds crack to falling light, reclined across the couch
but take note of the carpet
a blue so rich it seems black
in this light anyway, at the end of the day

As a brick flies, the sidewalk surface, membrane streets
the television is ancient, monstrous, looming like a shitty condominium,
a gathering of debilitated objects in a semicircle
flies above the sink

― Me and my pool noodle (contenderizer)

fucken contendo and dmac beastin this. dunno which of 'em to vote for but it's down to those two

think 'a blue so rich it seems black' has it tbh, sorry dmac, altho let it be known your cadence is perfect

both those poems are ace. talented people in this contest.

ah hey thanks, i wouldnt tbh put mine up besides the top ten of these but it was a good prompt to just write something

particular, imo, treeship's 24, both s clovers, and the final two efforts

i like trayce's poem a lot

I just dropped by to say I promise not to get even slightly upset when this field of entrants kicks my sorry ass. It's too much fun to read good poems.

imago, aimless you both caught my eye and interest but dmac's got it

and here I was thinking dmac poetry would be a limerick or an epic full of oneliner japery ;)

imago dude, yrs is fking outstanding

actually, no shame in anyone's game itt tbh

I purely expect to lose, but I'm cool with that.

i like yours a lot, raymond. i like imagery relating to catholic rituals, which still mean something to me even though i am no longer a believer.

I'm afraid to post in here, but I voted

Reminder: only 176 shopping days left until Christmas.

vg you can read my limericks in another thread but i warn against it tbph

:D

Thanks tree!

Thanks, treeship!

voted imago, can't rly explain why but it's the one that blew me away

Automatic thread bump. This poll is closing tomorrow.

Automatic thread bump. This poll's results are now in.

http://i.imgur.com/1Hl2vRi.jpg

u still have that acoleuthic login huh

thanks to all who voted and the tshirts are in the post xxx

:D the mods will be along soon to confirm I only voted for contenderizer, I'm sure

i forget if i voted :(

my vote, if i didnt, would be 1 for 'regarding time' fwiw

I am sure we are all better people for having done this.

(p.s. ban imago)

E'S A POET AND E KNOWS IT

I IS A POETASTER AND I OWNS A TURKEY BASTER

I'M A DOGGERELIST AND I HAVEN'T THE FOGGIEST

I AM A VERSIFIER AND I SET MY WET NURSE AFIRE

lol, i forgot to vote

imago would have kicked our asses that much more, or maybe darragh tied, or or or

impressive work all around

everyone's a winner really

i don't think i voted. there were too many good entries for me to choose. thank you to the people who voted for me, i feel grateful and happy.

So then LJ is the poet laureate of ilx now?

Yes. He joins an august pantheon.

Congrats, imago! Good poem.

lots of good pomes tbh

we should make it into a book or w/e

w/e much easier

make a flag post printed with pomes

If somebody wants to use mine for a collection/book it's cool, just let me know

I place no restrictions on the reproduction or rebroadcast of anything I have posted to ILX, so long as it is clearly and unambuigously credited to "Aimless".

I'd pitch in for the printing of a dozen copies of a chapbook of these poems

bedsheets or nothing imo

If somebody wants to use mine for a collection/book it's cool, just let me know

― Beatrix Kiddo (Raymond Cummings), Wednesday, July 10, 2013 8:07 PM (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

I'd pitch in for the printing of a dozen copies of a chapbook of these poems

― Treeship, Wednesday, July 10, 2013 8:16 PM (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

what they said. like having a CD of pre-covers. dunno nothing about the printing biz tho.

ffs know yr history folks

hey, just a bit of fun

history is just the story of people who aren't me

whoa I didn't know this was a thing until just now and you guys are amazing, wtf @ 24, treeship, that is awesome

thanks flamboyant goon tie included! it means a lot to get positive feedback for my poetry. this thread is full of positive vibes and encouragement and so many of the poems here are great.

I voted dmac, I kinda cant believe he didnt win, but i liked LJ's too so congrats

IKR? :)

Lol