MAG Poetry Competition 2009 - search for new poems
About 80% of the participants in the 2009 poetry competition wished their poems to remain viewable on the website. Check these out here:
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How Beatrice Became A Lobelia
Her parents were heartbroken when their baby girl was born
To see a mark upon her face sure to result in scorn
A port wine stain which fell across one eye just like a mask
The doctor said to remove it would be far too great a task
He Is Veg Patch
He's the veg patch
I'm the herbs
He's the lawn
I'm the pots
They lit the night, set the sky ablaze
tossed myrrh upon the fires of our distress;
soothed wounds pink flesh ne'er licked clean
ripped open and charred, new-black,
Are there hedgehogs
in the wooden box? Do not look
for fear they leave.
This woman always switches on my OCD
She is a weekly reminder that I am not well
The air is a fug with her smoke
Her house never cleaned
Off-key (A song of wasted dreams)
Screen staring back,
One eye all a-glow.
Urging words that are not there,
or do not wish to flow.
Hartley and the Garden Gnome
“Can gnomes move?” he wonders, “What use are gnomes?” he ponders. He rushes at it; knocks it over, He sniffs at it; runs for cover! A glow of light in the shrubbery, Your average cat all blubbery. But Hartley’s in command, goes to look! Gnome’s lamp is lit; that’s not in the book! “How does he switch it on?” thinks Hartley, Sniffs all around it; jumps back smartly. The lamp glows brightly; goes out at daybreak, “Broken gnome”; Hartley gives it a gentle shake.
I have told you again, Hope is the peace of many.
With trembling hands, will mould silent statues,