Talossan Poetry Contest: RESULTS

English Language Section
And welcome back. I hope your bathroom break was relaxing, your tea/Miller Lite/microbrew/fine Mosel Riesling is well poured, and you're prepared for a FREAKIN' PRIZE TO BE AWARDED.

I have picked one winner for our special prize. I will first introduce the three runners-up, with a couple of comments of my own on each comment. Don't take me too seriously, and if the poet or any reader disagrees with me, good! Literary criticism, and the development of good literature, is all about bouncing off one's inspirations, one's peers and one's self, with hefty amounts of disagreement involved.

******

Our first runner-up is small, funny, and perfectly formed. It is probably the "purest" of our English entries in form (as a 5-7-5 haiku, though maybe the dipthonic 'what's' is to be eyed up suspiciously), though also the slightest. It's pithy, to the point and Talossan in style: irreverent and unserious about Talossan pride.

TalossaFest by Eoin Ursum
What’s that over there?
People waving two-tone flag;
They must be crazy.

Our second runner-up poem is a heartfelt poem that really gets across, to me, the sense of wintertime ruminations on the past. That's stating the obvious, perhaps, but I mean I got a real FEEL for the conflicted feelings in the poet's heart, the confusion over how to handle certain situations and the resolution to push forward. It is not technically polished; there are some "old-fashioned" rhymes, some "dull" word choices, and the form is all over the place (though frankly, form isn't a worry if the poet carries the emotion through, and this one does). Despite all that, I really liked this. I think with a little more practise, a slight freshening up of certain poetic skills, this poet could be very, very good.

poem by Éovart Grischun
Wintertime and the wind is blowing,
and I don't know what I'm supposed to do,
in my mind, thoughts are flowing,
but I don't know how to put them to you,
each time is another lesson,
it's just expressing what I think of you,
and every tiny thing that you do.

In this life there is hate and anger,
brought to us on a silver platter,
Evertime I see you, the feelings come back through,
the feelings I felt when I was younger,
Still as strong, just not as often.

I have some sense now that I'm older,
now I know what i'm supposed to do,
feelings are still strong on my side,
I hope it's mutual when our worlds collide,
each time is another lesson,
it's just expressing what I think of you,
and every tiny thing you do.

Wintertime is almost over,
but these feelings here still remain,
in the cold is where my thoughts are of you,
the heat inside helps them all break through.

Our final joint runner-up is really different again. Mythic in style, with some obvious influences and relations: Irish ballading, Ted Hughes (both with crows and with narrative biographies), and some ancestry from the Romantics and Bill Shakespeare (no, not the Earl of Oxford). Really good little yarn, good humoured yet a little ethereal, mysterious, dangerous. Jack Crow is a rogue, loveable perhaps, but with more than a hint of the Morningstar about him. Some of the rhymes are a little recycled, though others, whilst simple, get away with it due to style; the scansion is, in places, sloppy (for instance, lines 3-5 of stanza 2 require a real stretch in the rhythm of the piece to keep going). I wouldn't mind seeing more of poet's work, to see if he reaches beyond the fantastic and merges it into "reality". This style, coupled with "universal concerns" (what a horrid phrase that is, though!), could really make a splash.

"The Pearly Prince: Song of Jack Crow" by Daviu Dréwith
Who nicked the ruby gem of an Irish king?
Lone-Crow, who views the value not the price,
And pinched with snatch, hid beneath that darkened wing…
Who perched upon a Dragon’s nest yet thrice?
Subtle stealth of ‘Crook-Claw’; theft’s his thing.
‘Pick-a-Lock’ of quick tricks, a well turned vice,
Virtue veiled, Master Villain of chance and gain.
Who guards the jewels and crown in Royal guise?
Good and bad to Mr. Crow are all the same,
Then shadow-flies the crooked night with prize…
Hallowed booty-bird of the Death-Harvest Dame.

But…

Who loves Sir Jack, criminal with coal-hard eyes?
That petty-pecks at chaos, as if a silly game;
Pearly Lord, swift trickster of diverse skies
He who shuns good innocence and seeks the Devil’s flame;
With a burial ‘caw’ that duets the funerary cries?

And…

Where the hidden, twisted hoard of stolen gold…
Of ill-gotten wealth?
Perhaps,
Beneath the dream-bed of Crow the Bold,

And…

With that, I bid you good health.

******

Another short break here, before the prize winner is announced!

A very sincere congratulations to all participants and especially to the Winner and Runner-up. You are all a credit to the Talossan culture!

Obviously, any critiques of the judging are welcome, too! I'm only one reader.

And Talossa would be sensible to look forward to more of your poems, David! Wonderful stuff.

Bravo!

Those were my inspiration, brought to my attention by yourself a couple of years ago.

Congratulations to Breneir! Many fine submissions, though.