SEMI FINALS
The semi finals have been brought forward to next week.
Professor B. Pear and his associate Buttercup had conflicting opinions on the winner for this week because of the high standard so a decision was made to have two winners;
Ms Pamela Villars and Barbra Seville.Congratulations. The contestants next week will be
Doctor FTSE
Pamela Villars
Barbra Seville aka Barbara Young
Apart from being a well known poet Pam has the distinction of being voted Ms Texas
for twenty five years consecutively.
Barbara is Nashville Tennessee's Poet Laureate and current Karaoke Champion.
Next week the semi finals will be judged by Wanda and Lawrence both published poets.
Wanda McCollar is an American living in Germany. She is the literary guru of RWP and her job is to ensure Germans are speaking American/ English with the correct inflections and appropriate accompanying gesticulations.
Lawrence Gladeview spends his time as poet /decorator in the US. He purchases bars, wallpapers them with his poems and offers free booze to anyone who can recite them by heart.
The wordle for this week is:
colourless, libretti, audience, await, splinter
bells, amateur, bland, joy,inevitable
crystal, aghast, IT, wings, derision
*IT = information technology
Good luck all!
The libretti was woeful
ReplyDeleteThe audience was aghast
at the amateur performance
Derision awaited her in the wings
The coloratura splintered the glass
No crystal bells here
A job in IT seemed inevitable
bland colourless and without joy
This one's a bit long. But here goes:
ReplyDeleteI’m an amateur singer and actor
And I’m having some trouble and strife
In the middle of winter I picked up a splinter
That’s totally altered my life.
It’s given me metamorphosis
And objects around me just change.
When I found my libretti had turned to spaghetti
I thought it was terribly strange.
I flew on the wings of derision
As the audience shouted for joy
A colourless crystal I’d purchased in Bristol
In a flash became Helen of Troy.
Why, only last Thursday, at lunchtime
I encountered a small honey bee.
I felt quite aghast when it morphed very fast
Into Eric, a friend in IT.
Bland Eric said, ‘How did I get here?’
Then straight away winked out of sight,
Replaced by some bells, a box of seashells
And a map of the Island of Wight.
It’s got so I can’t bear to touch things
As I fear they will alter somehow
I’m hoping some day this will all go away
But till then I will live in the now.
I’m patiently queuing at Tesco’s
Having chosen some food from their range.
And so, as I stand with a tenner in hand
I await the inevitable change…
Homage to IT
ReplyDeleteMy amateur fingers, colorless, splinter-sharp,
await your audience. Only you - my joy,
my inevitable visitor - can alleviate my pain;
your derision does not faze me,
nor your countenance, aghast and bland,
for my joy at your visit feels like libretti
of crystal bells and iridescent wings.
Hilarious poem Chris.I think you may have a Monty Python graft on your funny bone.Thanks for contributing this.
ReplyDeleteThis probably won't hold formatting, will it? The first and last lines are supposed to be bold, and the rest is indented, if that makes any sense
ReplyDeletePseudopod
trim the colorless with bells
a Ghast, a Goth, and a Gopher,
tripolar opposites
attract derision as a wilderness draws yeti
(and yet) this splinter podcast audience
with no IT experience
has plans to publicize
their troglo-punk libretti
with broadcasts via crystal radio,
(eleven ninety -nine plus s&h).
The amateurs await delivery
(of inevitable wisdom)
with joyous anticipation.
and fit the bland with wings
Love Chris's non-minimalist take!
ReplyDeleteI saw that you and Doctor FTSE have a relationship, and thought that anyone he likes, I would probably like too.
ReplyDeleteI thought Chris' poem was fabulous, and Pamlea Villars was probably just as much so, except that I didn't understand it nearly as well.
The only thing between Footsie and me is a couple of ole bent rusty sabres!
ReplyDeleteI agree, mine's pretty dense, but I do love my IT team!
ReplyDeleteNot dense at all Pam..clear as a bell.
ReplyDeleteNot only can poets read between the lines
but underneaath as well! Let's hope Doc FTSE
turns up this week with a poem . If not it will be you and Babs battling it out for the final next week.
PS
It must be nice having an IT team.I would like one.
I don't have an IT team
ReplyDeleteit's been a while since I had It, at all.
(i got another take on the words, not for the contest, just for fun)
Dolled
in all their splinter, belles with busoms, beaux, and balls
th’ audience, th’ amateurs, await
sweet smirking Libretti to swing in from th’ wings
and sparkle th’ piano with his white tie and crystal tails.
Inevitible
as long derision on a test of maths,
a colorless aghast
drifts through the room.
and Clara,
th’ IT gal, strolls pouting, to th’ rail
“lets blow this stinkin’ joynt.” she booms
“strike up th’ fartin’ bland,
“t’whiskey bar next door’s got sax that wails.”
This poem has a definite touch of the Tennessee
ReplyDeletebackwoods about it.Deliverance country..oops or am I in the wrong part of America.?
Here's a cento on it
Sweet smirking libretti
splintered the belles bosoms
and the beaux balls
swingin in from the wings
a colourless audience of amateurs
is aghast
as Clara sparkles th' piano
with his white tie and crystal tails
the IT gal strolls pouting to th' rail
"t'whiskey bar next door's got sax that wails.
let's blow another joynt" she booms
Hello, Sabre Wielding Rallenntanda.
ReplyDeleteHave you a deadline? Please don't think this is special pleading - but I was expecting the semis to be next week, and last weekend I lost a couple of days by reason of having my left eye cataract done. The left was the only one left, because the right, which is now alright, was done before Christmas. I can see clearly now the rain has gone. It's going to be a bright, sunshiny day . . .
Deliverance takes place in the southern urbanite's paranoid fantasy of any place off the main highway. I, on the other hand, am within spitting distance of...well, not all that much, come to think of it
ReplyDeleteOK you are the sunshine of my life...Thursday is the deadline.I put it forward because there wasn't much of a response.I think a poetic genius like yourself will find it easy to whip up one of these but if you can't I'll ask Barbra Seville and Pamela de Ville if they are agreeable to granting you an extension.Please
ReplyDeletelet me know how much time you will need. Take care Dawlin'and remember Bob's your uncle!
I will do my little best!
ReplyDeleteBut . . just now we are watching the fierce rain and hail storms which have hit the Melbourne area. I'm not sure why I think you live further west . . but I very sincerely hope this extreme weather is not affecting you or yours. It seems that between wild fires, drought, and extreme weather, Oz is having a tough time. We watch and pray. Take care yourself, and best thanks for the reply.
I live in north west NSW (Liverpool Plains and Warrumbungles )and Sydney.We are a long way from Melbourne Victoria.However we did have severe floods at Xmas.I was in Sydney and we couldn't get back til it was over.Fortunately there was very little damage when we returned.
ReplyDeleteI think bush fires are more terrifying than floods.In high summer we leave a bag at the door ready to take off if need be.You always ensure that you have a full tank of petrol and 2 cars in case one doesn't start.We are still reeling from Victoria's terrible bush fire a year ago..evidently some people had decided to leave and were forced to return home by the authorities and were burnt to death.
Everything is extreme here.In the country one has to prepare for bush fire, flood,extreme heat and cold(we don't, but parts of oz has snow country as well)all together. All part of life here and I think responsible for the Australian sense of humour and resistance to taking anything too seriously.Making jokes out of the most dire situations is a good way to get through things.Having said this I couldn't live in the city full time.There is no compensation for the luxury of absolute quite,
a starry expanse of sky which is so clear you don't need a telescope,clean air and water and the occasional encounter with the very last of a dying breed of traditional 'true blue' aussies, laconic, funny, generous, irreverent with guts. There is a down side but we wont speak of that.
Anyway enough of Australian story time.
Hello Rallentanda! Here is my semi-final entry for the Wurdle Words competition. After the judging, I will post some www links to the story behind it.
ReplyDeleteOSPREY RETURNING
A crystal splinter bleeping from her wings
links her to earth, to us, her audience.
Our GPS, IT and Google Maps
track her inevitable flight from Africa.
How she knows her way we do not know, nor she.
Riding thermals, skirting rainwalls, seeking
bland lanes of air, reading the coasts’ libretti,
she makes our colourless flight seem amateur,
treating the skies, the distance, with derision -
Sahara, Morocco, northward over Spain.
The Pyrenees confront. Aghast, we lose her signal,
signal our joy when she comes back on-line.
“Soar on, brave prodigal! In Scotland they await
with Bells to greet you!” When the he-bird’s raucous call
nestles you, there will be food, and sleep. And home.
Gloss "Bells." A blended whisky, much drunk in Scotland.
Thanks for this poem Footsie. All I can say is I'm glad I'm not judging this.Three talented little ripper poets here.I am waiting for Lawrence and Wanda to send me the verdict.
ReplyDeleteI'm a Black Douglas person myself!
A WORDLE WHILE WAITING
ReplyDeleteomen rose serpent wedding mirror
pearl canker sleep stirring reflected
her wedding tomorrow
she needs to sleep
a string of pearls is reflected
in the cracked mirror above her bed
hello, that single rose resembles
a canker blossom in this light
hmm not a good omen