And the curtain drops on one more feeble, and ultimately futile, attempt to win a local radio station's annual Valentine's Day love poem contest. First prize: A romantic weekend for two at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in beautiful downtown Cleveland, replete with deluxe accommodations, a rose-petal turndown service, gourmet truffles, a bottle of chilled champagne, and breakfast for two.
Sorry, dearest wife, we get to spend it at home with our crazy kids as we scarf down hot dogs and macaroni and cheese while watching The Simpsons on DVD. Hey, I tried. Next year, I'll write from the guise of a Viagra-saturated, pill-popping senior comedian, the apparently preferred modus operandi of the entrants. Anyway, the losing entry:
Evocation
Far from your embrace, the pleasant madness,
sensations lured to sleep in ornament.
Rustling colors spark scenes of your caress,
memorials smile in the firmament.
The splendor of gardens in dark of night
lies withered, its enchantment disappears.
Solitude thunders, your absence a blight
that draws heaven down, a cloudburst of tears.
Harvesting ardor, verse of sorcery
shapes my final hope with this magic spell;
casting words, a homage to your beauty,
l'amour ablaze as the fires of hell.
Through smoke and fever comes the scent of bliss;
borne on the wind, the rich bloom of your kiss.
Oh, that's why I lost. Now I get it. Nevermind.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Drapery Falls
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
16 comments:
Well, you won my Valentine's Day poetry contest, Randal. Your grand prize... is a surprise (aw shit, now I gotta get a prize.)
It's lovely.
One year I made my husband a valentine out of carboard and some cool paper on which I wrote a poem on the front and a poem on the back. THe unsentimental bastard, I mean dear, still has that darn thing in his top drawer of his dresser after 7 years.
Randal, I would have given you first prize! The poem was lovely.
Let me thank you for sharing this poem. I hope that my continual pushing will inspire you to share more poetry!!
I feel confident that any woman, and any woman that is married to you, will appreciate this poem more than a night at the Ritz Carlton. Really beautiful. Love the images that you inspire: ornament, monument, garden, harvest. These images are created by a poetic landscape architect whose work is far too sophisticated for the crass commercialization of a greed and guilt inspired holiday.
And, "casting words, a homage to your beauty,l'amour ablaze as the fires of hell." Those are the kind of words that make mac and cheese, the Simpson’s and kids all worth it. She's a lucky gal---and clearly you are a lucky guy. Happy VDay to you both!!
Beautiful poem. Very, very romantic. Kind of reminds me of Donne. Are you a fan of the Romantics? Wordsworth, et al?
*Ahem*
Did you catch the Pro Bowl?
Also - The Simpsons can be romantic in it's own strange way.
It's not easy to write a good sonnet. So you didn't win, big deal. It's not your fault. You did a good job.
I liked your poem, but I think your wife would rather you spent the day at home with here that to have you take your girl friend to the Ritz. ;-)
{{ I think it's time to hide in my box now!}}
I'm sure she'll at least appreciate the poem more than a night at the CLEVELAND Ritz-Carlton.
what a lovely poem. you are one classy dude which surely your wife apprieciates dearly.
FB, if you could land me a Wii, I'd be most grateful. Merci. Well, at least he still has it. I hope my wife still has the crap I've written. "Oh, I needed a piece of scrap paper. Sorry."
mauigirl, that's it, I'm going to see that they hire you guys as judges next year. And thanks. :)
LBR, well this was an unexpected post. I have one already worked up for tomorrow, but that might be the last bit o' verse for awhile. It's still weird putting it out there. Sure, it's just words, but I know what's behind them, thus, mon état nerveux.
Mac and cheese is indeed good, but I wouldn't have minded a steak and to have someone else do the dishes!
Et je vous remercie pour vos gentils mots.
dean, thank you sir, and Donne is a good candidate for theft as well, heh heh. And absolutely, I love that stuff.
Man, I'm just glad none of my guys got hurt. Didn't Harris Barton or someone bust a leg in one, once upon a time?
Dammit, Cartouche, I told you to shave those sideburns! You're off the team! For good!
tomcat, oh I don't know, I'm sure I get on her nerves enough to where she might just want me out of the house. :)
betty, possibly, but if it was the PARIS Ritz-Carlton, then she'd gladly trade the poem. And so would I!
liberality, I don't know about classy, but thanks. :)
I do have a prize for your poem, because it should win something. I'm going to ask Sparty to send you one of the Valentine roses from his kids' school. I'm sure your wife will love it!
Want me to bake a freakin' cake for ya?
Wonderful poem and if the judges didn't think so, well you know what they can do to themselves.
suzi, ha ha, now that's funny!
POP, it isn't my birthday, so not necessary. Et merci!
Cleveland has a Ritz-Carlton?
I loved this poem. The imagery and language are very rich and evocative. No words could ever hope to capture your love for your lucky wife, of course, but this was a damn good effort.
And considering the kind of dross that passes for "morning chatter" on the radio, I wouldn't be surprised if the winning entry turned out to be a nasty limerick.
Cleveland Rocks!
Salut,
Marjorie
Hey, few cities on earth are as classy and swanky and swingin' as Cleveland. We're a Plum, dontcha know!
Merci, and it was a classical station, so no chatter like that, but they seem to enjoy the comic over the passionate. C'est la vie.
We do, Ian Hunter said so!
Dude you sent that to a RADIO Station? You know those guys can't read three syllable words, right?
Next Year just write take three songs, One Bryan Adams, One Goo Goo dolls and one Journey tune...
Use the chorus lyrics in random order and you're golden, brotha...
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
You're the only one I ever believed in
The answer that could never be found
The moment you decided to let love in
Let Love In
Whooa, oh-oh-ooh
Whooa, oh-oh-ooh, oh
Whooa, oh-oh-oh, oh-whoooooa-oh
Faithfully
It was a classical station, so it was a bit more classy than a morning of dick and fart jokes. But at the end of the day, you might be right!
Post a Comment