Monday, 8 August 2011

Great-Grandson of Godawful Poetry Fortnight

We launched the first Godawful Poetry Fortnight in 2008, and followed up in in 2009 and 2010. All our posts are here, and there's a brief article in the TOI about the Fortnight here.

Now, time to gear up for 2011. You have been warned!

The essentials:

• Godawful Poetry Fortnight runs from the 19th to the 31st August.

• Our Patron Saint is William Wordsworth.
And he gets this signal honour for saying that poetry "is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings." Way too many aspiring poets have rallied behind that banner, too few going so far as recollecting those emotions in tranquillity, let alone reading the rest of the preface to Lyrical Ballads (which can be found on Bartleby, for those interested).

• To join in, all you have to do is post on your blog*, Facebook or Google+ a godawful poem you have written, with—all totally optional—a brief note about GPF, a bit about what godawful poetry means to you, and a link to this post.

• Post godawful poems as often as you like during the Fortnight. (The True Believers Challenge: post thirteen godawful poems, one on each day of the Fortnight.) Squeeze your muse like a boil. Get it all out. Pester your friends to post too. Once GPF is done, you will write good poetry for the rest of the year, yes?

• Technorati is pretty much dead now. So just use a Godawful Poetry Fortnight tag or label on your post, and maybe a #GodawfulPoetryFortnight Twitter hashtag as well.

• To those who feel the need to point out this Fortnight lasts only thirteen days, we draw our cape around us, and say, in a marked manner, "Poetic license."

* I'd be happy to link to you if you tell me where your poem is.
If you don't have a blog, you're welcome to use the comment space here or, if you know me and have my address, email me your poems and I'll post them as guest posts.

21 comments:

  1. would you post a topic each day? may be easier then...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Cockroaches to the left of me, cockroaches to the right,
    My blood it froze like popsicles at such a fearsome sight.
    “Oh Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou,”
    I screamed like Bianca Castafiore in my fright.
    The sod was dive-bombing angry birds, and ignored my plight.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Here's my ripe godawfulness, heh:

    Hope

    the dawn's spent, fallen from its height;
    the wind's vicious banshee hails the night.
    the torch is aloft, and flutters yet;
    hope does now tattered flames beget.

    the earth frozen, bereft, the air dust,
    the sky livid, its intent cold,
    nothing warms but the creature's soul
    that writhes somehow for forward thrust.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I wake up and switch on my computer,
    Type facebook dot com into my browser.

    Suddenly everyone seems to be a hipster,
    Being their friend I can't even remember.

    It informs about births and an occasional death,
    I click 'like' without pausing to take a breath.

    People you may know, it dissects,
    Our life, one hangover to the next.

    Cricket matches, activism and a renamed state,
    There is always fodder for one to pontificate.

    I update my status with something clever,
    Punny and insightful in equal measure.

    I wait impatiently for notifications to appear,
    Where the hell are my serial commentors?

    I will woo them with some godawful poetry,
    Hoping the number of 'likes' will reach twenty.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Bling bling bling
    Tringa-la-ling
    There she swings
    In her heels and rainbow sequins.

    Whistles, ogles and glares
    The young and old together stare
    For what she bares
    Is no ordinary fare.

    Does restriction bring on desire
    Do taboos light hearts on fire
    Isn't beauty for all to admire
    Oh how I love being a woman, sire.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Bling bling bling
    Tringa-la-ling
    There she swings
    In her heels and rainbow sequins.

    Whistles, ogles and glares
    The young and old together stare
    For what she chooses to bare
    Is no ordinary fare.

    Does restriction bring on desire
    Do taboos light hearts on fire
    Isn't beauty for all to admire
    Oh how I love being a woman, sire.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Your mouth

    Joker
    Fake smile
    Polka dots

    Frankeinstein
    Monster face
    Black socks

    Dish washer
    Garbage can
    Your mouth

    ..............

    My meaning of 'godawful poetry' :
    From disgusting to depressing. Anything which after reading, you feel you shouldn't have read it.

    ReplyDelete
  8. the Buddha is still asleep

    Cucumber like thermocol
    French fries like styrofoam
    Come, hit me
    I am like a punching bag

    the Moon has gone to Bangkok
    The birds, to watch an Opera
    let us sing our song
    the Buddha is still asleep

    ReplyDelete
  9. close-up picture


    I have your close-up picture
    with a colgate smile
    and pepsodent teeth
    with revlon eyes
    and lakme skin
    dandruff free l'oreal hair
    eyebrows painted with special care

    i can also smell some cool water too...

    i have your close-up picture
    pasted on my dartboard.

    ReplyDelete
  10. (there was a little mistake in the earlier one)

    close-up picture

    I have your close-up picture
    with a colgate smile
    and pepsodent teeth
    with revlon eyes
    and lakme skin
    dandruff free l'oreal hair
    eyebrows painted with special care

    i can smell some cool water too...

    i have your close-up picture
    pasted on my dartboard.

    ReplyDelete
  11. ah poetry
    you are as welcome
    as the sound of grinding stone
    while eating rice and tomato dal
    as the sound of arriving train
    on the right track but the wrong way
    as the sound of one mosquito
    while lying on the hammock

    rush into the arms
    of that teen groping for words to satiate her angst
    or that senior knitting memories from thin air
    or someone naive enough to let you in
    feeling all charmed and rather flattered.

    as much as I enjoyed writing this hack
    you might enjoy it even more
    so I end this with an abrupt jerk:
    shoo.

    ReplyDelete
  12. ah poetry
    you are as welcome
    as the sound of grinding stone
    while eating rice and tomato dal
    as the sound of arriving train
    on the right track but the wrong way
    as the sound of one mosquito
    while lying on the hammock

    rush into the arms
    of that teen groping for words to satiate her angst
    or that senior knitting memories from thin air
    or someone naive enough to let you in
    feeling all charmed and rather flattered.

    as much as I enjoyed writing this hack
    you might enjoy it even more
    so I end this with an abrupt jerk:
    shoo.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Laugh out

    Don't play games on the highway
    The dogs could be rabid
    Don't sing songs in the lift
    The liftman may fall asleep
    Don't fight while driving
    The car may start crying

    Makes jokes in the church
    Jesus needs to laugh
    Dance in the funeral
    The dead are happier to be dead
    Meditate in the court, jail
    Laugh out, and be laughed at

    ReplyDelete
  14. You never smile

    You never smile
    because smiles never come to you.
    You repel them.

    And once in a while,
    when they do manage to show up,
    they are so tight
    that your cheek bones break
    muscles get ruptured
    and lips, bleed.

    ReplyDelete
  15. When will summer come ?

    So many poems
    i swallowed
    this monsoon.

    I watch them play
    hide and seek
    inside my stomach.

    Their play causes me
    indigestion.
    When will summer come?

    ReplyDelete
  16. A piece of art

    it is made from rose wood.
    the best quality.
    with natural polishes.

    specially designed,
    ergonomically perfect.
    perfect for me.

    the carving,
    so gorgeous!
    a piece of art.

    and oh! so comfortable
    is my home.
    the coffin.

    ReplyDelete
  17. BuTt

    It rains "green tea"
    in my dreams.
    The greenest ones.

    Bamboos migrate
    from assam to japan.
    They actually fly!

    Under the roof of clouds
    elephants teach poetry.
    They wear spectacles too...

    I could dream forever
    but i wake up!
    There is always a BuTt in the way.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Shout out loud

    eek! screek.
    crunch munch
    hush ... oh man!
    rush.
    howl; yowl
    scream...
    wail and wail
    and roar and roar
    shriek and quake
    yell !

    shout out loud
    your pseudo rant

    ReplyDelete
  19. nocturnal living / feeling younger than in daytime / the world your oyster / my green chat circle wine to go with #GodawfulPoetryFortnight

    ps: couldn't find a tweet with tag... ?

    ReplyDelete
  20. Sweetheart

    You must be
    a sweetheart.
    but a******s
    are in demand

    ReplyDelete
  21. Twenties gone…
    Like the kal baishaki…
    On a dry dry noon.
    Twenties gone
    Chasing for love
    Like the wind
    On a dry dry noon
    Fiery and passionate
    Bold and disheveled
    Refusing reasons
    Untamable and wild
    Like the wind
    On a dry dry noon.

    Thirties trudged
    After the sprightly Chasing
    Waiting and hoping
    For that love
    That refused to come
    Hoping and waiting
    For that love
    For that gentle smile
    To warm the gelid soul

    Forty,tis now
    Weary and learned -
    To chase love is but
    A fool’s play
    Life is to live
    And give
    And share
    With those who
    Crave love -
    Little children and
    Discarded souls
    Plants and animals ¬¬¬¬---
    All wait
    Like the parched Land
    For your bounty
    To shower on them.

    ReplyDelete

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