52 Hertz Competition Results
Hello all you 52 Hertz readers and writers out there. I'd like to announce the results of our recent competition and reflect a little on all the lovely feedback I had from voters. Not everyone chose to explain their vote, but I've included here some of the more salient comments. If your poem doesn't feature in comments, that's not to say someone didn't vote for it - just that they were in a rush!
On the whole, I was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who took time to vote - also glad to see that the votes spanned a wide range of poets/poems - not just the top 4. For me, it all went to prove that our tastes in poetry are incredibly diverse - also that appreciation of a poem can't be determined by the number of comments on the blog.
In first place,
by quite some margin, was Cate with her poem 'The Last Song', a hauntingly ominous piece, which imagines the plight of the last remaining member of a species. I have printed a copy of the poem at the end of this blog, for those of you who haven't had chance to read it.
'This poem has a nice flow to it and really conveys the solitude of the whale.'
'The last song...for its inclusiveness of oceanic scenery,
the slaughter, and the making it a threnody'
In second place
came Rachel Bond with her epic poem 'Whale Song'
'What can I say... Profound thoughts and feelings that take you on its spiritual journey.'
'stunning prose that captured the mood of the topic well and was well crafted and literate'
In third place
there was a tie between John Coopey and Dave Bradley both of whom rather conveniently called their poem '52 Hertz'.
On John Coopey's - ' Poignant, evocative, wistful. ' ' Love it - simple, yet profound.'
On Dave Bradley's - 'slightly offbeat take on the theme - but resonated with despair and
loneliness' ' for its concentrating on need.'
There were many comments on all of the work, but just a few that I'd like to share, as those voters had put some thought into it.
The Project - Ian Whitely 'cos it's well-crafted and original' ' Not sure if this really conforms to the theme of 52 Hertz but a great work anyway and another one set out and structured in an interesting way.
Passing - Harry O'Neil 'A well crafted and ingenious piece with typical Harry naughtiness and inventiveness.' ' cos it's poignant and funny.'
Echo - Francine 'cos the last 6 lines have stayed with me and that's rare.'
Solitude - Lynn Dye 'Quirky kind of sad.'
Of Katy and Narcissus - Katypoetess 'A lovely work which conveys a real sadness and has a interesting structure to it which really works.'
Finally, I feel honour-bound to fess up the fact that Cate happens to be my sister. There have been many times in my life when I've wished I wasn't related to her - but none more so than now! Darn it - what can I say? My votes and records are available for scrutiny should anyone suspect foul play.
On the issue of prizes - I had been planning to award the worthy winner with a Swarovski crystal, diamond encrusted whale figurine - but since it's you Cate - a bunch of plastic carnations is winging its way...
Seriously now - since 3 of the winners are within striking distance of the Tudor in Wigan - (WriteOutLoud's premier North-West performance poetry venue), I shall award prizes at the next gathering in September. John Coopey - please let me have an address and I will post you something. I had been hoping to send you a booby prize, but since I'm paying for postage, I'll make sure they're light weight and inflatable...
I've really loved running the competition and reading all the entries. I couldn't have done it without all you wonderful poets out there - so a big thank you to everyone who wrote poems, read poems and voted on poems - you're simply the best!
THE LAST SONG
Dim are the depths and deep are the dives
As he glides on his solitary way
Through forests of fronze and rainbowed reefs
Round rocks where the guillemots play
Past silvering sands and palm dappled beach
And out to the oceans embrace
He follows the path that his ancestors took
The last of his line and his race.
Is ancestral memory absorbed from the past
Of whalers who slaughtered his kin?
With harpoons that ripped, spilling guts, letting blood
For a gland, or a tooth, or a fin?
Does he see as he cruises the vast lonely waste
The sun bleached bones of his kind?
The carcasses rotted and scavenger stripped
The fate of his race sealed and signed?
You may hear him sometimes as he journeys alone
And sings to the set of the sun
For the saddest of sounds is the song of the whale
As he calls to his brothers long gone.