MAG Poetry Competition 2011 - search for new poems

About 44% of the participants in the 2011 poetry competition wished their poems to remain viewable on the website. Check these out here:

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Arum maculatum

by John Keenan

What a performance.
For one day only.
The stink catches you right in the throat

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These Days

by John Keenan

These days
My head is full.
Nothing makes sense.
My porridge pot won’t bang,

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Leeds City Art Gallery

by John Keenan

For my Dad

‘Poking around!’ Holy ginger, honey.
I assure you, I was not ‘poking around’.

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Boots

by John MacDonald

In May 2006, an American campaign group who were touring the United States protesting against the three-year-old Iraq War brought their protest to Washington DC. Their campaign was called ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ and they protested by lining up hundreds of pairs of ‘military’ boots in long lines on the grass which stretched along The Mall. Each pair of boots represented a dead US serviceman or woman. Each pair of boots had attached to it the name of a soldier who had been killed in Iraq; since the campaign was supported by the families of many of the deceased soldiers, many of the boots also had attached to them a photo of the named soldier, a family letter or a bunch of flowers. Arrayed in perhaps 10 to 15 long rows, these boots stretched out on the bright green grass of the Mall, the Lincoln Monument at one end and the Capitol Building at the other. It was a hugely poignant and dignified protest against that war, one which commanded the attention of passers-by on that quiet sunny day. I was one of them.
J. P. MacDonald

Boots

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Sonnet

by John Wood

“My mother taught me that every night a procession of
junks carrying lanterns moves silently across the sky, and the water sprinkled
from their paddles falls to the earth in the form of dew.” Allen Upward

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Dating Tips for Beginners

by Jonathan Mitchell

If you can’t get a girl
Imagine you’re a savage
Neanderthal man and make
A stone-age, cast-iron plan

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Dogmas for a Poet

by Jörn Meyer

Don’t speak of owls or angel wings
Of little birds nor lovely butterflies
No rose or tulip pick along the way
All flowers, also daffodils, destroy

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_______________________________________Tense Days

by Jörn Meyer

Salt crust on her skin
from rolling massive watermelons
across a sun-blazed inner-city square
G/old dust on her chin

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Bouncing-Back Betty

by Jörn Meyer

She was first violated in the womb
Soon after birth her mother hit her
on the head, a cross around her neck
She held her under water in the bathtub,

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A Day by the Sea

by Jörn Meyer

We spend one weekend like a day by the sea,
young lovers, more or less, with our lives intact.
(She a graduate of philosophy, I a philosopher
of sorts). Her red-wine lips and natural beauty-

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