POEM #8
Vivavinyl For Our Time
Big Johnny, King of Vinyl
From the right side of the tracks
Took a revolutionary approach to music
“If it don’t go round
It don’t got no sound”
Big Johnny, King of Vinyl
used to say
“Cassettes are for squares”
and then he’d laugh at his nearly-joke
and ash would drop to the floor in respect
“The best of everything”
he boasted to his true love,
rented nightly to affirm his infidelity vows,
and Peggy-Sue said “yes, Big Johnny”
as she put his Little Richard on the deck
The Plaza, The Hilton, 5 Star life
He gave tips generously to Bell-Boys,
“always change the stylus every 6 months”
“Yes, Sir, Mr Big Johnny”
and Peggy-Sue sighed with pride by his side
December nights were warmed in his suite
by bee-bop 45s turning
and giant speakers stood in the corner,
Not because they were naughty
but because they were so damn good
Big Johnny’s heart was burning
Peggy-Sue refused a contact
denied they had a contract
defied him to sue Peggy-Sue
no Court would find for Johnny
she had the scars of his vinyl obsession
500 albums in his possession
“music comes from 33’s
and modern shit is first degree
murder of real sound”
and to emphasise his argument
sent Peggy-Sue on Heaven trail
a centre-hole his Holy Grail
but bad idea for this frail female
And now she’s more dead than frail
Big Johnny charged, no-bail
Jury took only as long as a double Presley
to nail his wooden heart
Judge searched for the right punishment
And sentenced Johnny, King of Vinyl
To Life in a CD Hotel
POEM #9
It Doesn't Matter Anymore
Jagged concrete, once pebbly smooth;
Broken pieces protrude
into the pathway all use.
Missteps by newcomers
Punctuated by stumbles;
Must really pay attention,
The dangers lead the way.
First floor gets used
Only to pay the rents;
Toilet in hall closet there,
Closed to all those who do.
Wooden steps with indents
From years of others’ soles;
Bannister with no splinters,
Guides all to second floor.
The door ajar, just doesn’t matter.
No belongings there,
To care about,
To care about, anymore.
Silver on the mirror,
Now faded to dust and shadows.
Temporary filth, long ago,
Found its way
Deep inside.
Dresser with burned memories
Of cigarettes long forgotten;
The change amidst old papers,
Neither matter anymore.
The glass, half full
Of dirty water;
With wisps of blood,
Dilutes to cloudy gray.
Friends that come to visit
Share a needle, empty bottles;
Stories, long ago forgotten,
Never remembered to be told.
Single mattress,
Partly covered,
Brownish sheet that drags the floor.
Grope down, through stench-worn socks,
Grasp cracked saucer of stale filters,
And make room for just one more.
Amidst the ashes,
Try a cigarette;
Then, who knows, maybe some rest.
The daylight hours,
Bring sparse refuge;
Smoke-stained windows,
that don’t matter,
Just don't matter,
Anymore.
Bare, bruised, knotted arms,
Hands dirty, blacker nails;
Reach beneath to scratch in places,
Where underwear,
Ceased to be, long ago.
Visions of life,
Sought and lost in cloudy water;
Can only wonder now.
Will the rent this day,
this week, this month
Bring to close,
The lifetime that ended
In a seedy hotel.
It just doesn’t matter.
It really doesn’t matter,
It just doesn't matter,
Anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Comments:
Don't hate me because i couldn't choose just one. Like i told Lizzy, "No, I did'nt change my mind about having one Grand prize winner. I just can't follow my own rules."
Poem #8: Maybe I mentioned before, i love wordplay. Well i do. This poem had me grinning for a day, whenever my mind wandered upon its punch line. I vowed after reading it once, that if its Only redeeming quality was the ending, then i would not let my tendency to crush on things like this influence me. Well, the poem's got legs.
Stanza 1: the poet uses language that plays on the words, "tracks" (as on a record) and "revolutionary" (as in spinnin), but uses these words with another 'literal' definition.
Stanza 3: the poet does the same things as above with "tips."
There are occasional rhymes, none gratuitous, mostly very clever. Stanza 5's "speakers in the corner" premise is a hoot. A fun, well done poem!
Poem #9: This poem reflects the intended sense of the theme, so well. It looks un-squintingly (if this is a word) at the seediest of circumstances. Like a blues song, it makes no excuses for exposing what is Miserable and that is that. If you want to find a pebble of hope or an iota of sunshine, you won't find it in this poem. Even the phrase "half full" is only used for clarity of message, not to infer the positive. Every stanza is another nail in this poetic coffin of gloom. Seedy. Hopeless. Terrifying. Wonderful.
GRAND PRIZE WINNERS
What kind of poetry contest has 2 Grand Prize Winners, Three First Place Winners, Three Second Place Winners and 12 Honorable Mentions? Out of 23 entrants?
Could it be a contest where the Judge is clueless about who Raskolnikov is?
Raskolnikov, only one of the most recognizable and infamous characters in one of the greatest books ever written. Sheesh.
Could it be a contest where the Judge is clueless about who Raskolnikov is?
Raskolnikov, only one of the most recognizable and infamous characters in one of the greatest books ever written. Sheesh.
Just read the Grand Prize Winners. I haven't had time to read the others yet. I liked both poems. The only question I have is about VivaVinyl? It doesn't seem to fit the theme of the contest. It's like a poem that was already written and the last stanza was doctored so it would fit the theme. Which is O.K. I guess since it won. I don't see any seedy hotel. Just a riff and puns on the changing music technology. Probably what the poem was originally about. It's a likable poem but the author seems to be given a lot of leeway by the judge.
Hi Mark B.~
If your eyes are closed, Seedy Hotel and CD Hotel, sound the same. I believe (but don't know) the writer saw the potential to play on the latter and then wrote the poem to fit the 'sound-alike' theme.
There is one other poem, Winging It, i believe, where the writer also strayed from the literal...to getting bird seed on a game piece hotel...also very clever and fitting, i thought.
Regards,
Laurie
If your eyes are closed, Seedy Hotel and CD Hotel, sound the same. I believe (but don't know) the writer saw the potential to play on the latter and then wrote the poem to fit the 'sound-alike' theme.
There is one other poem, Winging It, i believe, where the writer also strayed from the literal...to getting bird seed on a game piece hotel...also very clever and fitting, i thought.
Regards,
Laurie
Hi Laurie,
You may be right about that. CD as opposed to seedy.
I just finished reading the First and Second place winners. One of the First place winners really impressed me. Anyone who can rhyme Ahithophel with hotel and have it make perfect sense (i.e. giving sound advice) my hat is off to them. It is more than mere cleverness. That author knows what he is doing.
Off to read the third place winners.
You may be right about that. CD as opposed to seedy.
I just finished reading the First and Second place winners. One of the First place winners really impressed me. Anyone who can rhyme Ahithophel with hotel and have it make perfect sense (i.e. giving sound advice) my hat is off to them. It is more than mere cleverness. That author knows what he is doing.
Off to read the third place winners.
Last edited by Mark B. on Fri Oct 29, 2004 5:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
I agree with Laurie's take on that, Mark. Some people are just exceptionally good with puns, and it can all come together rather quickly for them. As soon as I read the punchline, all the preceding immediately fell into place for me. The cassettes are for squares. For someone so in love with and so tied to success via vinyl, being sentenced to "Life" in a CD Hotel.....would be the equivalent of hell 
. There are just too many interplays within the poem itself that bring it to its stunningly funny conclusion.
This wasn't a co-decision of any kind. However, when I commented earlier that some poems seemed automatically above the rest, this was one of those. We left it open for how people chose to interpret the theme, and this was just exceedingly inventive in my opinion.
I only offered Laurie input on one poem, and that was after she had already determined her winners [absent any request for input from me ~ whew
!]. Neither of these were the poem I commented on.
. There are just too many interplays within the poem itself that bring it to its stunningly funny conclusion. This wasn't a co-decision of any kind. However, when I commented earlier that some poems seemed automatically above the rest, this was one of those. We left it open for how people chose to interpret the theme, and this was just exceedingly inventive in my opinion.
I only offered Laurie input on one poem, and that was after she had already determined her winners [absent any request for input from me ~ whew
!]. Neither of these were the poem I commented on.
Hi Charles~
Well i'm truly sorry to hear that you are not feeling good about your poem.
There was only one poem in the bunch #15, which was really bad, purposely bad. I gave it a "total rot" rating. It was parodying an argument going on around here lately. Other than that every poem had redeeming qualities. I at least hope you have fun writing whatever it was you wrote.
And for the record, the only poem i remember Liz commenting on as she just posted is the one i mention above, the dastardly #15. She said she thought it was a ruse and i told her i agreed.
regards,
Laurie
Well i'm truly sorry to hear that you are not feeling good about your poem.
There was only one poem in the bunch #15, which was really bad, purposely bad. I gave it a "total rot" rating. It was parodying an argument going on around here lately. Other than that every poem had redeeming qualities. I at least hope you have fun writing whatever it was you wrote.
And for the record, the only poem i remember Liz commenting on as she just posted is the one i mention above, the dastardly #15. She said she thought it was a ruse and i told her i agreed.
regards,
Laurie
I wish you wouldn't feel that way, Charles. It was your enthusiasm behind the scenes that inspired me to just go ahead and try it myself. You made such a point of it that you don't write poetry, but what the heck. You really liked the idea of the contest. I finally thought, yeah.....I don't write poetry, either; and it's anonymous, anyway, so just try. At least do that much, while you're telling everybody else that they oughta be. At first, I didn't tell anyone ~ and certainly not Laurie 
! Finally, I told Paula and Helven, behind the scenes, that I had done it, but sure didn't share the poem itself. I liked your poem, Charles, so I wish you wouldn't try to disown it. I know you had fun doing it because you told me you did. I ended up enjoying writing mine, too.
! Finally, I told Paula and Helven, behind the scenes, that I had done it, but sure didn't share the poem itself. I liked your poem, Charles, so I wish you wouldn't try to disown it. I know you had fun doing it because you told me you did. I ended up enjoying writing mine, too.
I knew you'd be surprized. Yes, I did have fun. If it weren't for Charles, I wouldn't have tried at all. Risk, when it comes to poetry, is one thing that I've been pretty consistent in backing away from, all my life ~ even though I know that's not the best way to live to your fullest, avoiding risk, that is, not necessarily avoiding poetry .