Competitions
East Coker Poetry Competition 2011
This year the theme was A-Z. Twentysix of our members had each taken a different letter of the alphabet as their subject for this year's competition.
All the entries were read at this well attended and enjoyable meeting.
This year the judge was Will Silk, deputy headmaster of Perrott Hill School who had the onerous task of picking three winners from a very varied collection of poems.
Here are the winning three poems - all very different :-
A
"Angelman Boy" by Heather Murphy
I sat in the bath and rang all concerned
'Blonde hair and blue eyes, most beautiful boy --
In the world".
Months passed , he delighted , smiles and laughter
Contentment too good to be true--
And it was .
A rare type of syndrome , he'll never talk
And will walk with an awkward gait--
And have fits !
Grief too deep for crying , my fists shook at God
Profanities uttered, my dear darling girl so blameless
Why the hell her?
A wise woman said 'be strong for your daughter"
Old treasures seemed trivial , I sold--
My "Just William ' collection.
Sorrow on sorrow , bruises and stumbles
Split head , drop fits and spoon fed ,yet --
So easily pleased.
Brave as a lion, no malice or envy
His love unconditional and deep
As the ocean.
He'll never ride bikes , play cricket or sing
Asks for so little but he shows us that--
Not all angels have wings.
U
Until I met “U” by Iona Lambe
Until I met “U”, my alphabet world
Was sadly incomplete. I had ideas, not true thoughts,
And giddy pastimes, without pure pleasure.
“A” was the first I met. First letter, first love,
And I was awestruck, alive with adventure,
Awash with anticipation…. Alas, it didn’t last.
Everyone loves “E”, and so did I, at first.
But “E” gets everywhere, in many words, in every sentence,
Yelling, “Me, me, me.” It had to end ~ it ended.
It was a little while ‘til “I” became important.
In turn intriguing or intense. Impassioned ~ fire and ice ~
But insular, a word unto himself, impossible to like.
Ordinary “O” came along. A solid body, round as a rock
And cosy as a cottage. Overeating was his downfall,
And before too long he became a touch …(out with it!) obese.
Unless the world turns upside-down, you are the Ultimate Vowel.
Utilitarian, not ubiquitous, you underpin my universe,
My love. United in Utopia……..just us.
X
X marks the spot by David Cloke
And Sproson passes forward on the left side
to Tommy McLaren
Looking round for an opening
And it’s a high ball into the centre
Picked up by Morris
Trammere now moving back
as Morris jabs it through to Horton
Challenged by Mathias
But it’s a high lob into the box
Port Vale on the attack
and they’re all there as Mick Morris leaps
And the camera snaps the scene shut
The rigid grimace of a face contorted
The anguish of a defender thwarted
A thousand open mouthed fans
watch the keeper’s outstretched hands
But no one hears his desperate shout
grasping for a ball - that is airbrushed out
On kitchen tables scenes as these
are studied all across the Potteries
People doing their ‘spot the ball’
watched by three ducks upon the wall
Mother gets the soup on
while father fills in his coupon
Trying for what he’s never won
Jet-set holidays in the sun
(Instead they’ll take the train
to Canvey Island in the rain)
So in a ritual before his tea
he marks a kiss where the ball must be………….
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East Coker Poetry Competition 2010
For our competition theme this year we returned to a subject that we have had before:-
'East Coker'
This is the year 'Google Maps' have put a street view of every English road, street or lane onto the internet; an undertaking of similar magnitude to the Domesday book of 1086. This has not been popular with everybody, but it is still an awesome achievement. So even if you live far away from East Coker you can now visit the village via the 'street view' in 'Google Maps' and 'walk' along our lanes and almost lean on every farm gate to enjoy the view just as if you were here.
Our team of three judges were: Liz Pike of the Yeovil Community Arts Association, Bernard Holiday of the West Coker Poets and Yeovil poet John Hawkhead
It was decided to award prizes equally to the three top scoring poems but due to a 'tie', four winning poems were announced:-
East Coker by Amelia Bennett
East Coker (A Rook Cawed) by Heather Murphy
Listen to East Coker by David Cloke
My View by Julie Mulder
The prizes were a mix of local produce linking to the 'local' theme.
The winning poems appear below:-
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East Coker
It's part of my mind's museum
Born within the sound of the carillon.
I rode the sandy hollows from the shade
Into the playful sun on the ochre stone.
By moonlight
Checking the charcoal horses as they graze.
Bucolic.
Embedded in the land,
Turning the swathes of hay.
Buzzards mew overhead.
God exists.
I hear him singing in the fields.
Or, she sits in St. Michael's on the hill.
The walls made valid by prayer.
The tower sails on
As the trees in the park nod with approval.
Better post a letter
In the Victorian post box at Nash
(The one with a chunk bitten out of it)
And wag a finger at the dreams of development.
Amelia Bennett
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East Coker (A Rook Cawed)
Over fifty years ago
We scrambled along those lanes
Long sandy passages
Hedges so high
Full of expectation we came
Climbing the badger tracks
High up the bank
The branches hung low
With blackberry and sloe
Then into the meadow we sank
Water we brought in an old Tizer bottle
Tasted as good as a feast
Under the Mediterranean blue
Of the sky up above
And the sun was pulsating with heat
The myriad grasses gently swayed
Clover and bees all around
All was so still
Then a rook cawed
Such a singular sound!
Onward we trudged along bridleways
The village at last we could see
Hamstone thatched cottages
Tractors and orchards
Birdsong from every tree
A sweet little stream
By the side of the road
Trickled by glistening and free
Such a lovely jigsaw picture
For a fifties child like me
The world turned on its axis
And fifty years on
I travel this dear route again
Are these the same grasses our legs brushed against
Those children, where have they gone?
My brother now lives in sunnier climes
His childhood memories long dimmed
I ponder that girl, arms skinny and brown
As I breathe in the sweet country air
A rook cawed, such a singular sound !
Heather Murphy
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Listen to East Coker
This village
Where placid Hamstone quietly bides its time
and in the sun the plastic gutters creak
Bungalows sit hunched in Long Furlong Lane
And tourists wander to the church to seek
that plaque upon the wall
Gloria Mead laughs in conversation
between the swish of passing cars
Dahlias still bloom in West Wells Cottage
And the Church clock chimes the passing hours
Listen to Sunday
The graceful trees hush, hush in the breeze
and a southerly wind brings the faint train
as silent sheep cluster in the paddock
and Diane Bugler strides along Halves Lane
Whistle and shout of village football
and the flop and flap of Sunday papers
slapped on the counter of the village store
and Gerry Smith peddles his flamboyant
ensemble up through Higher Burton once more
Hear the morning
Where mothers weave and dance their cars
to the school where the road clots twice a day
and the rumble and clatter
of a farm tractor
and the screech and chatter
of children's play
and where neighbours tutt in vain
as a lorry scrapes and inches its way
to the mushroom farm in Burton Lane
Listen in the Close
The distant Church bell's tune can just be heard
faintly in Mill Close noted for its fungi
on lawns so neatly kept
where boletus and russula catch the eye
Miniature cathedral domes and minarets
emerging under silver birches
where nearby plums huddle ready for the jar
and Monica Whipp attends the Church's
solemn service in her bright yellow car
Listen to the sky
Overhead the Duchess drones its downwind way
and robin, blackbird, jackdaw have their say
from television aerials unaware
they trod on Gordon Brown and Tony Blair
And down below in hidden lanes
horses mimic coconuts
while a helicopter throbs the summer sky
and a tile cutter rasps in Meadow View
drowning the buzzards pitiful thin cry
Listen to the music
If you knew Suzie, like I knew Suzie
coo the pigeons in the trees
And in the Helyar Arms
the lilt and wink
of poetry contends
with the clink and chink
of glasses at the bar
And away in Tellis Cross a car
revs and changes gear
Sights and sounds in East Coker
Remember them - before they disappear
David Cloke
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My View
An outsider
Travelling the long and winding road
To your door,
Searching for more.
A visitor
Enchanted by your
Thatch upon roof
Connecting to the sleepy earth,
Discovering more.
A poet
Stepping into your Helyar Arms
Embraced by its rhythmic charms,
Connecting with history
In this your East Coker,
Wanting more.
Julie Mulder
