Avant-Garde Poetry Contest 2
Back by popular demand, it's the second iteration of the Avant-Garde Poetry Contest.
First thing you'll notice is that I'm neither Qimissung or HCabret - this isn't a coup d'etat, I'm just helping out as the latter doesn't seem to be around much and the former is rather over-worked!
There have been a few questions in the other thread about what exactly is meant by 'avant-garde' - I myself sought qualification. According to the OED, the 'avant-garde' are the 'pioneers or innovators in any art in a particular period' - so the challenge here is to be exciting, different and experimental with your poetry. Go on, live a little and be radical!
In the last thread some people also requested a theme for the contest. In view of the experimental nature of the thing, I don't want to stifle anybody - so let's say the theme of this contest is 'Communities and Individuals', which you can interpret as broadly as you like.
Let's have a notional deadline of the 25 June - two weeks from tomorrow.
Post away, you lovely creative types!
Individuals Avant-garding the Community
1
I thought that I would never see
Avant-garde ****ing poetry.
Mary had a little bard
Who when he went went avant-garde.
2
And that's when Alice wanted to know when
I was going to grow up and she apologized
for giving me the arsenic even though it was
only imaginary arsenic and then she started
crying because she wasn't real any more than
that arsenic and that's why she acted the way
she did and I told her 'It's OK' because what
else was I going to say and then I told her that
even atoms were almost all empty space, nothing
there, and she said, 'Really?' and I said 'Sure'
and then she wanted to know about that tiny stuff
in the middle of the atom and she started to cry
again and I had to tell her that when that stuff
was a wave of potentiality it wasn't there any
more than she was and she said, 'Really?' and
I had to think because I didn't want to lie to
her and I didn't want her to start crying again
and as far as I could tell she was more real
than any old atom was and so I said 'Sure'.
Jis anuvva summah evenin’
Dere’s now Lue come a-walkin
down da street in’er torn leggin’s
all wobbly an’ bloody dumb b itch in’t she
oar block’s bloatedest ratchet an’
dressed up likuh reel thot she is
eyes locked on’er Blackberry
cuz that Jer ‘my-bloke with the like hugest nob in town
jis’ texted and told’er ‘Mirin ya for edges,
care for a kiss bae lass?’
And Lue she thinkin’, ‘Jeez a kiss,
oh yeah BFD!’ And she textin’ back,
‘F uck you hashtag SWAG’,
and then she steppin’ in some
reel dogs hit an’ screamin’
an’ the pusswat from next door
yellin’ outta window ‘Oy, piss o’’, y’ugly b itch!’
failure to ornate societies's waste
individualism
inspects
life
with a hygiene mask
and it becomes a task
the importance
is to be seen
pass and above
the norms
to a power crawl
the conduct of the small
the laws applicate to suffocate
and the rest syndicate
to erradicate
abdicate
expectations fall
and the basics
spoil
and you and I toil
failure a score
democracy is a bore,
society
compacts
to run
it is
a matriarch
there is no cermony without
a patriarch
let's run it with a mark
no need to bark.
