The second edition of our Poetry Competition was again a highlight for us. Over 300 entries were received, the majority in the adult section. It was good to see that in the schools’ section that there were clearly a few schools which had picked up on the event and encouraged their pupils to take part. It was also pleasing to see that we received a small number of isiXhosa poems this year.
The judging process was wonderful for all involved, and it remains a highlight of the year for Billy and me. After sifting through the entries over many sessions, we were unanimous in our feelings on the School section winner. Dennis Buckland was a runaway winner with his poem Anthropomorphic. We were delighted that Dennis was at the Prize Winning, where he read his poem so eloquently.
Anthropomorphic, Dennis Buckland
I am anthropomorphic.
My disguise is human,
I inherited the suit that
The abstract dresses in,
Tailored by intellectuals,
And stitched by mothers
Patched piece by piece
By bygone civilizations.
I would weave a thread
Of my own, but it chafes,
It was made for the dead.
So at night, I strip bare
And feel the animal
Breathing down my spine,
And picking my lice
With awkward intimacy.
I am anthropomorphic.
My disguise is human,
I inherited the suit that
The abstract dresses in,
Tailored by intellectuals,
And stitched by mothers
Patched piece by piece
By bygone civilizations.
I would weave a thread
Of my own, but it chafes,
It was made for the dead.
So at night, I strip bare
And feel the animal
Breathing down my spine,
And picking my lice
With awkward intimacy.
In the Adult section the choice was not as easy. We finally settled on our short list and sent it to our external adviser, a published poet of considerable stature. She sent her recommendations, and we were all in agreement. The winning poem was Hung Gun, by Georgia Gundersen. Georgia was on hand to receive her trophy and cheque from the sponsor of the event, Leila Witkin.
Hung Gun, G Gundersen
Hung Gun, G Gundersen
On the wall there is a rifle
Over the mantle lean as a rapier.
There where flames split and flare, its
Barrel grey as slate; smooth as surface
Water, and to its form is clad that sense
of
Its possessor. A craftsman’s piece of
Deadeye marksmanship; the
Weapon of a dry and dilatory man.
And the sling hangs sparely.
What has the one-eyed thing
Dropped in its sights to lie
Limply on a litter of grass?
A hare as long and prescient as the
Gun, the wind making eddies down to the
White of its taupe black-ticked fur. The
Lean woodsman turns towards home
Where the hare is laid out, and
The unerring line of rifle returned
To its backdrop of whitewash.
Special thanks to Leila for her generous sponsorship of this event. Without you we just could not do it! A huge thanks to all those who entered. As Leila said on Saturday morning, you are all winners! To Billy Kennedy, and Hester Van der Walt who help with the initial judging, a huge thank you for your wisdom and commitment. Thanks also to Patch for her help- you are a star!
David Magner