Competition: Winners and Losers
 

Competition
Lucy Vickery
Wednesday, 3rd March 2010
Lucy Vickery presents the latest competition
In Competition No. 2636 you were invited to submit either a victory song or a loser’s lament composed by one who regularly enters this competition.
All in all it was a lively and entertaining entry. And while there were fond references aplenty to the good old days — ‘Bono sub regno Jaspistou I’d gain,/ The occasional cheque for my toil, tears and pain...’ laments Martin Woodhead — when good sense and justice prevailed, the current incumbent stands accused of a litany of crimes, including having a tin ear and no sense of humour.

Bill Greenwell, He Who Almost Always Wins, featured in many entries, as did several other serial winners, but Bill’s victory song narrowly missed the cut. Josephine Boyle and Chris O’Carroll were also unlucky. The winners, printed below, get £25 each. The bonus fiver goes to Basil Ransome-Davies for a masterly portrait of paranoia.

When I didn’t win last week I could tell it was that clique
Who conspire to keep my winnings lean and low.
They’re the calculating kind who have poisoned Lucy’s mind.
When I’m left out of the money, how they crow.
They subvert, connive and sneak; it’s their underhand technique
To dish a comper of the foremost rank.
Oh, I’ve sussed their little games. I’m not naming any names,
But they’re green with petty envy, to be frank.
People call me paranoid, but I don’t need Sigmund Freud
To know what’s happening surreptitiously.
Just by joining up the dots I’ve detected all the plots
To make a chronic loser out of me.
It’s a shock and a disgrace that fellow-poets are so base,
Descending to skulduggery and crime.
I’m a brave man but it hurts to be robbed of my deserts —
A top-prize-guaranteed win every time.
Basil Ransome-Davies

Well, I’d just given in, tossed my works in a bin,
when this Wednesday the Speccie proclaimed one
fifth-best Pastoral Ode to a Bodily Node—
I’m a poet again, an acclaimed one!
I retract all my slurs on those heretofore curs,
since the judge now esteems unsurpassed rhyme,
on my efforts Miltonic, she’s smiled, solomonic—
she’s so vastly improved since the last time!
Pour the finest cuvee, what a glorious day,
Though I never once doubted I’d do it,
Let the poetasters all sip their wormwood and gall
As they read it and covet and rue it!
I’m a god, I’m a seer, I’m a bard without peer,
With this win I have vanquished defeat, it
is a palpable joy I’d find quite unalloyed—
if I thought I could ever repeat it.
Frank Osen

Ms Vickery, might I mention, yet again
my work of genius has been overlooked.
Not that I make a fuss, (though, to speak plain
the ones you print are, frankly, undercooked.)
Perhaps your ISP is on the blink
I tell myself when Friday morning comes.
Or do they bribe you? Just tip me the wink
and I’ll, discreetly, send appropriate sums.
I’m versed in sonnets, quatrains, villanelles;
at times I have essayed the triolet,
and couplets, too. They win as well.
Suppose I offered you a rondelet?
My O levels were once the talk of Leek
My spelling’s proper: look, here’s Nietzsche, Farquhar.
Perhaps I’ll make the winners’ ring this week.
In hope. Sincerely yours, M. Parker
D.A. Prince

Ransome-Davies here, aka Basil,
My nerves in a terrible frazzle:
Where once I was brill
I’ve now gone downhill:
Ms Vickery, why can’t I dazzle?
Despite my immense intellect,
I fear lest my prospects be wrecked:
In the dear days of yore
I scored whisky galore,
Cobra beer and a ton of respect.
I feel it my duty to mention
The perilous state of my pension:
Forget Holtby and Petty,
They’re richer than Getty *—
Give me preferential attention.
Mike Morrison

Oh dire day! Oh cruel fate!
Immersed in overwhelming grief
I weep into my handkerchief
And rue my sad and sorry state.
Today, convinced my rhyme would win,
I scanned the page a thousand times
But all I saw was others’ rhymes,
My sure-fire winner wasn’t in.
Enshrouded in depression’s pall
I wallow in my loser’s pain
And shower curses yet again
On this week’s winners, one and all.
But all’s not lost. It could be worse.
Perhaps I’ll write the Larkin way
And who knows, Lucy then might say,
‘Well, stone the crows! This Be The Verse!’
Alan Millard

Between Chess and Crossword
Eyes scanning Competition
Lost again
John O’Byrne

Congrats to Baz, Frank, Chris and of course "He Who Almost Always Wins" for carrying the Erato banner yet again. Martin Parker also deserves high honours for being the fictitious author of one of the poems.

I know it's time to get over it, but...

Win Some Redux

Shucks! This time I thought I had it nailed!
Oh well--probably my e-mail failed.

My email must've failed too, Marion,
but don't give up - we have to carry on;
we're just as good as those who win each week.
Congrats to them (with just a hint of pique!)

(Apologies for using your name with such a crap rhyme!)

But seriously, all praises to the deserving winners.

winners & losers
 

Thank you for your kind thoughts, Marion & Jayne. They will solace my grief & bitterness when the inevitable losing streak comes.


Bazza

I think you may be wise to my strategy, Basil. I'm getting the inevitable losing streak out of the way early so I won't have to worry about it when I start winning. Pretty cunning, eh?

Congratulations.

Jayne,
I love the "carry on" rhyme! (as well as the inspiring thought)
Anyway, it's better than "carrion".
Or, even worse, "Madame Librarian".

Congratulations, Frank, Basil, Bill, and Chris!

Susan

Win Some Redux Redux

I know why I didn't win again.
I'm too American.

Marion,

(It makes no difference, US or UK.)
We surely have to win again someday.

.......don't we?

Now it can be told
 

I see Mike Morrison is channelling me as a loser already. Whisky & Cobra beer of course refer to bonus prizes donated by comp sponsors in the past – except that the Cobra beer hardly ever arrived. I'm not much of a beer drinker but not getting my dues pissed me off mightily. It was a great scandal and the magazine was no help. Perhaps John Worthington remembers it.

Indeed I do. It was sub regno Boris and the office was full of useless girls with posh voices and (I reckon) pinchable bottoms. I didn't give up and finally I got a woman with a Northern accent who said she would deal with it and did. I got my beer. I gather she was actually Boris's office manager. Possibly she still is

Thanks for congratulating me when I didn't win! Here are my losers:

with apologies to The Seekers

How I sigh when I discover
That my entries have not won
I may starve this week, believe me
Now the competition’s done

How my heart was palpitating
But the postman brought me pain
Now the competition’s over
I will have to start again

Unlike some, I took a beating
And I wither on the vine
I may die from under-eating
While the winners wine and dine

Thoughts I harbour are appalling
And my crusts are hard and dry
Now the competition’s over
I may waste away and die

and

with apologies to Rodgers and Hammerstein

It’s always such fun, though a hundred and one,
To press past the Chess and read Lucy’s report:
To alight on my name and to savour the fame
Of winning the world’s most competitive sport.

Peerlessly I preen as I scan through the also-rans,
Proudly I let my immodesty blaze:
Frankly, I know that I’m one of my greatest fans –
It suits me to read such immutable praise.

Isn’t it great to win The Spectator?
To win bonus fivers whenever one tries:
I read my nurse every notable verse
That has won me the wonderful prize.

Pity for Whitworth, or Basil R-Davies?
Matron, I say, that would hardly be wise:
Let them weep when I win, for it keeps me in gin,
I have won, I have won, I have won, I have won, I have won the most
wonderful prize!

I can't THINK why your Rogers and Hammerstein didn't win, Bill. It's a winner for me.

I won the last ever Comp. to be rewarded with a case of the Cobra. I had to ring up in order to get it from a pretty shambolic-sounding Management.
And when it arrived it was one bottle short. Cobra is now in administration, I think -- perhaps as a result of having had to deal with The Speccie.

Incidentally, I once had to write in to get my cheque out of them. God help London now that Boris is its Mayor.

Oh, Martin. The pathos of winning, and then finding you're one bottle short. That would have been a sure winner.

(Although, come to think of it, people frequently tell me I'm one bottle short of a six-pack...and I've never won...so which scenario is more pathetic?)

Congrats!

show me the money
 

I hope you had better luck, Martin, than my current attempts to get the New Statesman to cough up for multiple past competition wins.

Julie, I am strangely stirred by the thought of a woman with a five-pack. Please may we meet soon?

Basil, Could all your missing cheques have been sent to Willie Nelson instead of to you?

the old outlaw
 

If they went to Willie he'd be welcome, for the pleasure he's given me.

I note you're based in Devon, so you probably know Bill. Do you also know the fabulous Ella Westland?


Baz

I'm not surprised you feel that way. You look an awful lot alike.

I bet Boris had the bottle. How would you feel about that, Martin? There's the beginnings of a Cobra Club here. The beer, as I remember, was very good.

John, the thought of The Great Bouffant Prat drinking my beer has rankled with me for years and will surely affect how I vote at the next General Election. Cobra was my favourite lager. So. stick that up your majority, Cameron!

Basil, I once did some sift-judging of entries for a "proper" poetry comp. with Bill. He was also Guest Poet at one of my Open Mike nights. He was annoyingly much better at both of these than I was! I live in North Devon, but would not want the fact that I am a fan to reach South Devon -- which is where Bill lives.
Sadly, I do not yet know Ella.

bill
 

Where he lived. He's now in Darlington, back to his roots etc. How is your e-zine off for material? I have a few little numbers that weren't written for comps but for local performance which might be at home in a light-verse mag.


Bazza

Basil, Darlington. Ye gods!

Lighten Up Online would looks forward to hearing from you. The next Issue is due in June and the Comp. (sorry, no bonus fiver), could be right up your street.

Take a look at www.lightenup-online.co.uk

Ah yes dear Jayne,
No payne no gayne,
Back to the drawing board
Agayne.

Good return on this one. Congrats to all.