Fustaigne Publishing is pleased to announce the winners of this year’s Western Plains Poetic Licence Competition. The theme for this year’s competition was of course, the Nobel Prize for Literature and once again the entrants did not fail to surpass our worst fears.
First Prize goes to Mr Tom Wonton for his poem on the unhappy, sad, melancholic experience of not winning any prizes for literature.
I tap tap on
My qwerty keyboard
I want to win
A bloody reward
My first attempt
An open swimmer
It failed to win
Even the booker
Not me nor Bryce
But Peter Carey
Has won it twice
That’s bloody scarey
I vainly scan
But scarce even
And thanks to mister
It’s a godsend for
The bloody lotorvus
Who compose prose
And make up stuff
Who scribble dribble
And (thanks – that’s quite enough!
A literary nation
But you don’t win prizes
Second Prize goes to Shug McDuddy for his highland lament on not winning the Nobel Prize either.
The Nobel Prize tae hell wi it
They’ve gae’d it tae an eedyit
Wi nae mair grasp o poetry
Than a scragglin* norgfechtlinnetry**
But if they think ah’ll change ma muse
An proper English language use
Instead o made up Scottish verse
They kin stick it up their feckin e***
* Made up word
Third Prize goes to Mr John Fooker Clarke for his angry tirade about surprisingly, not winning the Nobel Prize.
We’re living in strange fookin times
When fookin poems and fookin rhymes
About the changin fookin times
And fookin blonde on fookin blonde
Or like a fookin rolling stone
Down highway fookin sixtyone
And not the fookin whinging shite
That fookin punky poets write
‘Bout fookin beasley fookin street
Can win a prize. The fookin dope
It fookin gives me fookin hope
Of selling my old fookin rope.
The judges also awarded a Merit Badge to Mr Tim Steinman as it is very unlikely he will ever win the Nobel Prize for literature either.
Bob, you know I would do anything if I could get my songs to sound like yours
I’d run right to hell and back again
I don’t know why it is but my songs just don’t seem to scan the same as other people’s
What am I doing wrong do you think?
And Bob, I would do anything to get my songs to rhyme
But I find that almost impossible on nearly every occasion
Oh I would do anything to get my songs to rhyme
Maybe then people would find listening to my work more enjoyable
But Bob, I won’t do that
No, I won’t do that
I would do anything to win the Nobel Prize for literature
But I won’t write poetry.