Competition: In Two Minds
Competition No. 2664: In two minds
Lucy Vickery Saturday, 18th September 2010 Lucy Vickery presents the latest competition In Competition 2664 you were invited to submit a dialogue, in verse or prose, between two parts of yourself at odds with one another. As usual, verse entries vastly outnumbered prose ones. In an excellent field, Brian Murdoch, Adrian Fry, Bill Greenwell and Fergus Pickering stood out. Basil Ransome-Davies scoops the bonus fiver for a hilarious exchange between id and superego. This is your superego calling, Who finds your conduct quite appalling. do da dirty do da sin dump da pussy in da bin To raise us from the primal swamp We must curtail the instinct’s romp. why dont we do it in da road up ya bum ya moral code A sense of civic duty needs To govern all our words and deeds. when da neighbour make me sick whack him with a great big stick A man is not a mindless clam: ‘I cogitate, therefore I am.’ you da boring fart dat reasons me da id thing for all seasons Basil Ransome-Davies A woman of your age in jeans is pathetic. It’s time that you dressed with discretion and taste. Oh go and get lost you old bag, they’re athletic, and jeans mean I’m lean and I still have a waist. Athletic! Those sneakers are part of the fiction. How long can cosmetics disguise your decay? Rage on in your beige with your comical diction. Your class-ridden pose is absurd and passé. If Mother could see you got up like a hooker she’d turn in her grave. Just as well that she’s dead. In her way, in her day, my old Mum was a looker. She moved with the times, so who cares what she said? Refinement is timeless and style is alluring, a well cut ensemble wipes years off the slate. Baloney, you phony old snob, I’m maturing disgracefully, facing my ultimate fate. Janet Kenny Get moving, feet! Dear Brain, we would — and walk till evening if we could — but wear and tear mean we’re no good for going fast. But we have work to do! Oh Brain, look at these symptoms of the pain — a bunion, corns, the ankle strain, Elastoplast. But where’s your spirit? Brain, there’s not a tittle left, no, not a jot. I never thought we had a lot, or it’d last. You can’t give up! Oh yes we can. We’d rather sit; we’re also-ran and definitely down the pan. Our glory’s past. D.A. Prince Although you’re out of sight I know you’re there, Let’s form a coalition, both unite. Oh no. We’d never make a well-matched pair. You fight the left wing. I shall fight the right. At least I take things in, regard advice, Attempt to contemplate what others say. What you take in I banish in a trice. To ponder counsel never was my way. My policy (original I trust) Is ‘Listen, listen, listen!’ Hear men out! We differ there. You listen if you must, A listening ear is not what I’m about. We’d best behave as one, although we’re two. Why can’t you be like me, act as my brother? Don’t you see? I prove the adage true: That what goes in one ear comes out the other. Alan Millard Dear fingers as a serving hand you used to write with care; but lately you misunderstand when ‘there’ is written ‘their’. And common words like ‘the’ and ‘why’ you mangle, like a fool; it makes me mad I must rely on such a useless tool. Most honoured brain, we live to serve and though we do pay heed, you issue orders with such verve we stumble at your speed. It may be that frustration stokes the bonfire of your rage but understand, our odd mistakes come courtesy of age. Frank McDonald ‘Get up, you lazy sod, the sun shines bright And there are things to do before it rains.’ ‘Uh. Yeah, but I was up till late last night, And alcohol has addled my poor brains.’ ‘Well, that’s your fault, just shift out of this bed And make the best of what you’ve got today.’ ‘I’d rather lie here in these sheets instead Until this pounding headache goes away.’ ‘You’re so pathetic you could make me cry, What happened to self discipline, I ask.’ ‘You should know better than to ask me why I’m in this state whilst taking me to task.’ ‘I know that abstinence has ruled my life, But that is how I kept myself from sin.’ ‘Oh, you’re too hard, don’t give yourself such strife Because you let a little pleasure in.’ Katie Mallett |
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