The Oldie Competition
THROWAWAY LINES
The Oldie Competition
by Tessa Castro
IN COMPETITION NO 132 you were invited to write a poem called 'Throw Away'. The best single line was by Basil Ransome-Davies: The Chinese cat no ionger waves', and I liked the phrase by Liz McConnell, 'Oven cleaner bought in hope.' Mary Rankins narrator's rage in piling up her rubbish in the rain with her departing husband's belongings was emotion recollected poetically indeed. Patrick Bennett took more formal means to construct a sonnet in emulation of Shakespeare's 129th, but beginning: 'The expense of living is as much to blame.' Kipling inspired Pamela Trudie Hedge's profitable ambition -'Oh! Lovely Antiques Roadshow, here I come- but Bill Webster found that after a liberating clear-out, 'I dorit feel like a mean machine - / More like a crab without a shell.'
Commiserations to these and congratulations to those below, each of whom wins £25, with the long-to-be-treasured bonus prize of a Taylor's of Harrogate tea and cake set going to Lance Levens.
I've thrown away my rod and wrath,
the nights I'd wrapped in rage and blue.
I've thrown away my snarl and sneer
and my one-legged, gravelly buccaneer
never as scary as a two-legged you.
I've chucked out boxes of bitter and bitch,
drawers of 'my dear, I loathe you, tod,
the Tie-dyes of hate I made out of fear,
bins of doilies with 'Why are you here?'
and my 'Dont you belong in a cage at the zoo?
'Yes, its finally feeling more like spring.
'But youre so wasteftil!' the poor nations rue.
It's not all compulsion; there's a prize in here.
Somewhere in all of this trash is a tear.
I'll hawk it on eBay: it should bring a sou.
Lance Levens
Foot spa, face spa, yoghurt maker,
Fondue set, potato baker;
Vinyl discs of Liberace,
Doris Day and Pagliacci;
Bath gel, hair gel, sandwich toasters,
Table mats and cocktail coasters;
#Jig-saws missing several bits,
Paint-by-numbers picture kits;
Umbrellas bright and gay -
Save them for a rainy day?
Junk today. Tomorrow's treasure?
Act in haste, repent at leisure.
'Have you moved that rubbish yet?'
Nag, nag, nag is all I get -
Constant trouble. What a life!
Peace! I've Just thrown out the wife.
Elizabeth Brassington
Since the fence by the stile was smashed, where I used to walk
Down a lane littered only with gently rotting leaves,
You drive into a meadow with lots of space to park
And there you can drink canned lager or flavoured water,
Eat takeaway curry panini from fitted plastic
Leave lasting signs of your transitory presence,
Smoke a last cigarette from a crumpled packet,
Dispose of the acrid stub from your spilling ashtrays.
Perhaps if you do odd jobs and your van is small
You can save yourself those ridiculous council fees,
Negotiate churned up grass and stony stubble
And unload over scabious and thistles
Near where a double mattress moulders,lengths
Of rusted guttering, boxes of broken bricks,
A couple of splitting sacks of petrified plaster,
Streamers of faded wallpaper for the wind to play with.
Glilion Ewing
Books by the hundred and boxes of china;
Pram, cot and train set and toy ocean liner;
Pictures in stacks you can never display:
These are the things to be sold on eBay...
Blankets and dustsheets and things for the seaside,
Lampshades and bottles and jam jars from Deeside,
Conference bags that just get in the way,
These are the things to be given away...
Paint tins and wallpaper, old blinds and curtain
And bits ofironniongery, purpose uncertain,
Old-fashioned mousetraps that no longer nip,
These are the things that will go to the tip...
To boot fair we sally with albums of old stamps
And tabledoths, napkins and old-fashioned oil-lamps;
And old dusty golf bag, with drivers and putter.
But homecoming laden with other folks' clutter...
Andrew Bamji
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