Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

Our discussion forum for topics related to writer's block, poetry, the literary arts in general, and anything else of cosmic import.
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Michael (MV)
Posts: 1620
Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57

Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#1 Post by Michael (MV) » 28 Apr 2013, 21:33

any newcomers or returnees this month, Welcome!

and here is a home link to the IBPC rules: http://ibpc.webdelsol.com/rules

Instead of 2, the IBPC board has returned to each board representing with up to 3 poems.

^^ by 3 different poets of course.

Poems recommended to represent the Block are posted here in this thread, along with all IBPC required info.

When the 1-3 are decided upon, and permission granted by each author of the selected poems,

along with the info needed by each author:

1/Your name

2/e-mail address

3/statement that the poem is your original
4/and unpublished work

5/and that you are not representing in the current IBPC

6/The poem as you would like it forwarded to the finals.

^^ All of the above is the usual needed info as part of the process.


I will then forward the 1-3 to the IBPC finals.


Please reply - accept or decline - in this thread.

Thanks,

Michael (MV)


 
 
 
 

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Billy
Posts: 952
Joined: 22 Jun 2006, 10:56

Re: Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#2 Post by Billy » 02 May 2013, 19:59

I'd be honored to represent the Block. This is my original work and has not been published. I'm not representing any other board.

Billy Howell-Sinnard
bhowellsinnard@gmail.com


A Trail of Bodies

I've always wondered if she survived.
It was dark. Thirty miles from town.
Maybe a rancher or two lived out there.

My brother and I had brought our rifles
to the mountains, hiking, half-heartedly
shooting at a coyote or antelope, chasing

the sounds of elk sharpening their antlers
against trees, never seeing one. We got
to the paved road not long after sunset.

There was no moon. The old Jeep's over-
sized tires thumped the pavement, caused
the cab to vibrate. The headlights poked

into the blackness, discovering the now
visible aerial world outside. From force
of impact, nylon insects sounded like two

pound creatures splattering the windshield.
Carroll and I sunk into the well-worn bucket
seats, exhausted, lulled by the drone of tires.

I saw her dark, startled eyes, big ears, black
nose, both of us moving so fast, the thud
on my side instantaneous with her image,

then the sound of the road and nothing else.
We stopped within fifty feet or so, examined
the damage: a broken mirror and the side

glass cracked. Arms dangling at our sides,
we stared into the scrub. A tumbleweed rolled
slowly past. The doe dazed, looking for her

family, hopefully, or dying in the juniper bushes.
Still, to this day, her bones crying in the wind,
lost in time--everyone I've ever left behind.

Michael (MV)
Posts: 1620
Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57

Re: Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#3 Post by Michael (MV) » 03 May 2013, 23:09

Thanks, Billy, and good luck in the finals   :)   Michael (MV)

Billy wrote:I'd be honored to represent the Block. This is my original work and has not been published. I'm not representing any other board.

Billy Howell-Sinnard
bhowellsinnard@gmail.com


A Trail of Bodies

I've always wondered if she survived.
It was dark. Thirty miles from town.
Maybe a rancher or two lived out there.

My brother and I had brought our rifles
to the mountains, hiking, half-heartedly
shooting at a coyote or antelope, chasing

the sounds of elk sharpening their antlers
against trees, never seeing one. We got
to the paved road not long after sunset.

There was no moon. The old Jeep's over-
sized tires thumped the pavement, caused
the cab to vibrate. The headlights poked

into the blackness, discovering the now
visible aerial world outside. From force
of impact, nylon insects sounded like two

pound creatures splattering the windshield.
Carroll and I sunk into the well-worn bucket
seats, exhausted, lulled by the drone of tires.

I saw her dark, startled eyes, big ears, black
nose, both of us moving so fast, the thud
on my side instantaneous with her image,

then the sound of the road and nothing else.
We stopped within fifty feet or so, examined
the damage: a broken mirror and the side

glass cracked. Arms dangling at our sides,
we stared into the scrub. A tumbleweed rolled
slowly past. The doe dazed, looking for her

family, hopefully, or dying in the juniper bushes.
Still, to this day, her bones crying in the wind,
lost in time--everyone I've ever left behind.

Michael (MV)
Posts: 1620
Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57

Re: Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#4 Post by Michael (MV) » 03 May 2013, 23:16

In addition to Billy's poem,

"Go ask Hamlet, I know he'll know" will be representing:

viewtopic.php?f=2&t=5634&p=23871&sid=86 ... cb4#p23871

For a 3rd I'm PMing Siva re Remembering My First Smocked Chemise ("My First Smocked Chemise")


Good Luck to the Block

8)

Michael (MV)

 

 

 

SivaRamanathan
Posts: 1169
Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30

Re: Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#5 Post by SivaRamanathan » 04 May 2013, 22:13

Thank you Michael for suggesting my poem.
This is my unpublished poem and I am not representing any other group.My e-mail id is sivakamivelliangiri@gmail.com

"My First Smocked Chemise"

In the cloister, the sisters
stitched their secret;
through pigeon-holes
we watched their thimbles
wondering if it was a pear,
peacock or push-cart.

Pastel shades of nylon
baby gowns with smocked busts
and baby frills alternated
with coloured embroidery.
Each stitch equally spaced
with a computer precision.

The Sisters of Cluny
and a handiwork of art
handed over through generations.
Over-seeing the minute fabrication,
mannequins dressed up as angels.
The ancient grey structures of Pondicherry
and the feast of all those Saints.
Most of all the charity sale
my family indulged in clothes
from the nunnery of Christ-brides.

The white froth of the sea
the washed out hue of bright colours
concocted to match a mingle of waves
rising like the dust of mud roads.
Padded necks patterned with curves
and angles, linings of soft linen,
and tiny loops for buttons
like the eyes of birds.

On the kitchen shelf
I see my childhood photo:

White frock and red rose
Black frock and white rose
a toothless smile

and remember mother
who must have requested the photographer
to sit for a little, then she hurried
to the garden to picture-pick those flowers.

Michael (MV)
Posts: 1620
Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57

Re: Upcoming IBPC for May 2013:

#6 Post by Michael (MV) » 05 May 2013, 05:25

Thanks, Siva, and good luck in the finals.

The 3 are launched.

Good luck to us, the Block

8)

Michael (MV)

 

 
SivaRamanathan wrote:Thank you Michael for suggesting my poem.
This is my unpublished poem and I am not representing any other group.My e-mail id is sivakamivelliangiri@gmail.com

"My First Smocked Chemise"

In the cloister, the sisters
stitched their secret;
through pigeon-holes
we watched their thimbles
wondering if it was a pear,
peacock or push-cart.

Pastel shades of nylon
baby gowns with smocked busts
and baby frills alternated
with coloured embroidery.
Each stitch equally spaced
with a computer precision.

The Sisters of Cluny
and a handiwork of art
handed over through generations.
Over-seeing the minute fabrication,
mannequins dressed up as angels.
The ancient grey structures of Pondicherry
and the feast of all those Saints.
Most of all the charity sale
my family indulged in clothes
from the nunnery of Christ-brides.

The white froth of the sea
the washed out hue of bright colours
concocted to match a mingle of waves
rising like the dust of mud roads.
Padded necks patterned with curves
and angles, linings of soft linen,
and tiny loops for buttons
like the eyes of birds.

On the kitchen shelf
I see my childhood photo:

White frock and red rose
Black frock and white rose
a toothless smile

and remember mother
who must have requested the photographer
to sit for a little, then she hurried
to the garden to picture-pick those flowers.

 
 
 
 
 

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