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:

Filter Poems By Author's First Name

  1. A
  2. B
  3. C
  4. D
  5. E
  6. F
  7. G
  8. H
  9. I
  10. J
  11. K
  12. L
  13. M
  14. N
  15. O
  16. P
  17. Q
  18. R
  19. S
  20. T
  21. U
  22. V
  23. W
  24. X
  25. Y
  26. Z
  27. All

Runaway

by Lindsay Fursland

Why I ran away? A circus-shaped
need I suppose…

I was thirteen. I could only

View in full

The Bug-eyed Commemoration Society

by Lindsay Fursland

As the day’s hot, my peepers droop and I dream,
or dream I do... I’m in a wakey wood,
burgeoning trees like buddy, young lungs –
unjadedness – like it’s all to play for.

View in full

Colours that dont exist

by Lisa Gilbert

Orange, Red, Yellow and Blue,
No, These are not the colours of you.

I think of you in colours that dont exist,

View in full

In 3011...

by Lisa Hitchen

Big, fat blobs we’ll be,
limbs surplus with technology.
Just spindly fingers for pressing,
scroll-select or guessing.

View in full

Gathering daylight

by Lisa Hitchen

I gather daylight in the small hours.
Into a bag it goes, in pieces.

Uncertain but clean as ginger

View in full

Port na Ba

by Lucy Alexander

Landscape of lochs
of green trees and heather;
sheep - not in flocks,
ptarmigan's feather;

View in full

Business or Pleasure

by Luke Bailey

Dolled up in self doubt,
Dolly returns her pad in her hand and a botox blush
Steinbeck was right
I saw further than I thought possible

View in full

Business or pleasure?

by Luke Bailey

Dolled up in self doubt Dolly returns Her pad in her hand and a botox blush. Steinbeck was right I saw further than I thought possible Simple callous bold and beautiful Like cacti: a thousand shades of ways to survive. This film is filled with failure "It's my pleasure" she lies and she's off To provide caricatural portions For the copious conscientious diligent adulators Smiling with the air of onions slicing. The carnival, the fayre, the suns glare Shoots from the sea; we tighten the skin about our eye Squint at the outrageous The Macabre and bizzare. "See the electric lady" cries the Southern hurrah. Slow palm rap gathers hands gathers claps Gathers purpose gathers pace Until a man races leaping the length Of five. No seven. No ten, eight foot tall leather clad men The crowd yell, the sea cracks, the sea flexes Effervesces expectorate fizz and takes leave of the sand My ears deafen the sound in a yawn and whine like static We fade as bright as Street lamps in the Manhattan night They burn White through Amber through sunset red Through my SLR lens Soaking the asphalt in strips of neon puddles Little Italy blizzard West on East Jam jars of hot cinnamon cider in jazz bars Jaunting bass buzz displacing the warm air Waltzing my wooden bench and Climbing my spine Soaring sax delicately drives Dipida-dipida splash drums, cymbal, snare Click of the sticks- te-te sst- high hat, and back... Into the snow That wouldn't fall, just hung Like a wall Yet covered the indents of the night we led Creaking like cotton wool in our fingers as we tread In the road, on the night we ambled home

View in full

Recovery

by Luke Bailey

Calmly – kick – scream
Contra-choice, what's best, the theme
Night outlines my life with chalk
Zombies stalk, to themselves talk

View in full

No Going Back

by M. Anita Bailey

As my fingers
listened and
my ears watched
my mind

View in full