November poetry competition

4 November 2011

The votes are in and the decision is made. The winner of last month’s poetry competition is Sam Gwynn, for this entry on the theme of ‘dirt’:

If dirt is bad, then so are we and so is history,
For all of us were dirty once, as dirty as can be.
Our milieu was the tillage where we bent and harrowed clods
And out of dirt we made our dirty dwellings and our gods.

Claim your gift

Soon enough we had a language full of many dirty words
As common terms for intercourse and blasphemies and turds.
We aired our dirty laundry for our tribal mates to view;
It really didn’t matter much, for they were dirty too.

And eventually we found that the constituents of dirt
Could make you ill or shame you with the collar of your shirt.
We also tried to cleanse ourselves of dirty deed and thought;
It helped a bit with nasal things; the rest was all for naught.

It is the dirt we’re risen from and try to rise the more,
But frankly speaking we remain as dirty as before.
If shedding dirt’s a lesson that we civil folk must learn,
We should remember that the dirt is where we shall return.

Thank you, as ever, to all all who contributed. The competition was intense and it was great fun to adjudicate.
Now to November’s competition and another battle for a bottle of Pol Roger. The same rules apply: entries should be left in the comments section and the epic form is
discouraged. The theme is ‘money’. Good luck!

Give the perfect gift this Christmas. Buy a subscription for a friend for just £75 and you’ll receive a free gift too. Buy now.

Show comments
  • basil ransome-davies


    Now a penny is a ‘p’,
    not a latinising ‘d’
    and the shilling and the florin are both toast
    and the dear old thrup’nny bit
    took a multilateral hit,
    but the half-crown is the coin I miss the most.

    You would get one happenstance
    from your uncles and your aunts,
    and you’d spend it on the movies and ice creams.
    In your pocket it had heft;
    now just memories are left,
    but it rolls like fairy silver through my dreams.

  • Didi Mae Hand


    For a complex global matter,
    To be understood with ease,
    Simply turn the offending articles,
    Into lumps of cheese,

    With EU summit talks,
    Now in the 11th hour,
    Its clear the Euros buzz
    Has turned lactose-n-sour,

    A sovereign debt disaster,
    Caused chiefly by the banks,
    There’s even talk in Paris
    Of a return to the old Francs,

    And while Sarkozy’s brie,
    Could probably take the strain,
    Of Berlusconi’s Lira
    It could not be said the same.

    A mozzarella currency,
    That’s what Italy have got,
    Like Spanish Manchego,
    They both melt when things get hot,

    And what of Greece Drachma
    Troublesome as Feta,
    Of Papandreou’s performance
    The results could be better,

    Not to mention Cameron’s cheddar,
    Patriotic and proud,
    But the hardcore euro states
    Don’t really want the pound around.

    So let us hope that beefy Merkel,
    Can keep it all together,
    Sobering absorbing bread to
    In disastrous joint venture

    But in so many ways
    This Euro drama is irrelevant,
    Since the Chinese Renminbi
    Is quite lactose intolerant.

  • fergus pickering

    Look, I’ve got a bunch of money

  • Sam Gwynn

    “Money is good,” say the merry Rich.
    “Money is good,” say the Poor.
    “Money is good,” say the In-Betweens,
    And all want more and more.

    “Money is evil,” say Preacher and Priest.
    “Radix malorum est.”
    “Give us your money,” say Preacher and Priest,
    “And dwell among the Blessed.”

    “We need your money,” say Tory chiefs.
    “We need your money,” say Labour.
    “Rob your Peter to pay your Pol
    And put the screws to your Neighbour.”

    “I love my money,” say I, say I.
    “We love our money,” say we.
    “There’s nothing rash in loving cash,
    For nothing in Life is free!”

  • Rishi Dastidar

    Kontrol Spending!

    Credit Explosion!
    Everywhere fall out.
    Plastic! Fantastic!
    Consume upwards! No doubt!

    Inflation Implosion!
    Wage/price hikes.
    Start asking for less!
    Belts should be tight!

    Kontrol Spending!
    Put it in a pen.
    Re-group! Re-charge!
    Then begin again!

  • James Morrison


    Step inside my car
    Sign the documentation.
    Now I’ve got your name
    On the dotted line
    Let me explain the deal here.

    You can’t rest on your laurels.
    You gotta run for your money.
    We’re after big profits.
    We’re the management here.
    We say what the name of the game is.
    We hold all the aces.
    Since you signed your pact with the devil
    We really do own your soul.

    And we’re talking infinity.
    We’re talking forever.
    Step inside my car
    Sign along the dotted line.

  • fergus pickering

    I can’t post here. Why is that?

  • Felix Bungay

    Our monetary system isn’t sound. It’s built on very shaky ground.

    Now as it all collapses, “blame capitalism” scream the chattering classes.

    But free markets aren’t to blame, when central bankers run the game.

    Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Don’t forget the Community Reinvestment Act.

    Government has caused our ills, and sent us all the rising bills.

    Bankers bailed out with taxpayer’s money, we’d all cry if it weren’t so funny.

    As interest rates are cut and cut, inflation soars, we’re in a rut.

    But Mervyn King just doesn’t learn. He’s printing money as Greece burns.

    Eurozone goes down the drain, as its leaders watch in vain.

    The solution to our troubles? No more fiat credit bubbles!

Can't find your Web ID? Click here