Read Poetry from Deep Secrets...
The £100 Winner of the Deep Secrets Competition…
Jennifer Lane, just 21, has beaten off stiff competition to become a prizewinning poet.
Jennifer submitted 'Desert' for the national poetry competition on the theme of 'Deep Secrets'. She receives £100 and a free copy of this poetry anthology.
"We had hundreds of entries for this free competition. They came from all over the UK and many were by published poets. So Jennifer's entry had to be something special," said Joanna Cummings, one of the judges of the competition. "It's a subtle yet moving poem and is beautifully written. The judges were particularly struck by the poem's evocative imagery."
Jennifer's poem deals with a past relationship. "It's about how things can dry up over time," she said. "I was going through a lot at the time, and I really wanted to communicate that feeling of dryness and barrenness and being alone. It's quite bleak!"
Jennifer started writing at just 16, after reading Keats’ poetry for the first time. "I thought, 'I'll have a go at that!'" she said, "and I've been writing ever since."
Jennifer, an active feminist, is passionate about literature and is specialising in Children's Fiction in an MA in Creative Writing. "My interests are writing and reading-based," she said. "I'm really enjoying my MA, and I've done a lot of voluntary work at literature festivals. I'd like to write more for children, as this is an area I want to go into in the future."
You can read Jennifer's winning poem below:
DESERT
It has taken years: clasping a battering ram
Under our arms, braced and ready to charge.
We are ructious, war-torn,
A broken state. Our mouths dusty and stuck
With old sand, wearing down our tongues.
And still, you stayed.
You are framed in our front doorway:
Always bent and precise,
Shadowed like burnt stone.
Sometimes, exquisite in your time-chewed chair,
And hot from the fire:
You are smoking at the seams.
My body is burnt, unclean, ash-brown.
It’s gone on too long and I am weak as old lungs.
Today is the last day
And my ribs blister, but I’ll ask you again
To surrender your toothbrush
And stay.
Jennifer Lane, Prescot, Merseyside
Below you can read excerpts of other work from poets published in Deep Secrets.
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VIVE L’INDIFFÉRENCE
Get over it mate
Don’t bother your head
Draw a line under that
What’s gone is gone
Don’t keep looking back
The past is dead
Delete the files
Wipe the screensaver
Empty memory banks
Take out the trash
Of stale emails
Downloaded from your printer
Straight into your shredder
Don’t give a damn
Just cut the deck
Let the playing cards fall
Wherever they may
And then say, What the heck
But when you trip up
Falling head first yourself
And your new lover steps over you
Then you’ll suffer the irreverence
From such casual indifference
That another had to
Put up with from you
Aidan Alemson
"Dedicated to those who dare to give a damn in an era of
indifference."
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DANCING DREAMS
I’ll let you know a secret
A secret you should keep,
Some people with insomnia
End up counting sheep.
I fly down to Rio
Like Ginger on a plane,
Or be like Debbie Reynolds
And go singing in the rain.
I dance with all the old ones
With black tie and some tails,
I sing a song to charm them
My singing never fails.
With Howard Keel in Seven Brides
I become his number one,
Then change to Audrey Hepburn
My Fair Lady has begun.
I hear dear Ethel Merman
Belting out her name,
By now I’m feeling sleepy
Time to end my little game.
So now you know my secret
What happens every night,
When sleep won’t come
I close my eyes and drift into delight.
Madge Brawn
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WHISKEY AND WATER
The evenings are getting colder.
Pass me the whiskey and water.
Take it you’re playing tonight?
G, C, E and F in B.
In the pub, with your mates, for free.
I’ve got a pocket full of secrets,
Gonna take ‘em to my grave.
God’s law and sound minded order.
Fool polished proof in every level-headed house full of daughters.
I’m open to read when you need.
Preach neatly when you seek.
Cry rivers if a friend dies.
Did you feel your heart miss a couple of beats last night?
Well, I swear it did and I saved your life.
There must be an angel in the daylight sky flying high.
I see you being the son of a future king yet to come.
In another life.
And I know I’m a bitch of a witch, who eternally walks on solid air,
Never know where I’m walking though.
Pass me the whisky and water.
Let’s make a bubble and jump inside.
Travel as far away as we can.
Pass me the whiskey and water,
Then come join my circle on the carpet.
Don’t think of all the bad weather,
You seem to have already had in life,
We’re here now together.
Blinded kindly with whiskey and water.
Amanda Willan
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BACKWARD CLUB
The advertisement sounded really nice.
It was the music to the ears of everyone:
Jobs, wealth, friendship, co-operation.
There were not enough smart eyes to see a lie.
Most were carried away.
Now they know they are in a trap,
From which there is no escape.
Those in charge only have their best interests at heart.
All the wealth they try to amass regardless of what might
Happen to the rest. They think that morality is dead.
All this continent they wish to have for themselves.
Their appetite is even greater: all expansion of the club
Into Asia. Are not the one-eyed bosses eager to swallow up
Turkey first. Do they know that once it was home of St Paul?
On its territory more than two thousand years ago he was born.
Why go back to the Roman days? Forever to be enslaved?
But one-eyed Cyclopes are happy to regress,
Even to retreat to Stone Age for power’s sake.
To seize total control they have set to mould
Europe into monolith, as they say,
Some kind of a cold stone. Even if all goes wrong?
Lucy Carrington
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DEAD SECRET
How many can keep a secret?
Is it one?
Is it two?
Is it three?
Don’t tell anyone,
This mustn’t go further,
This is just between you and me.
How many can keep a secret?
Is it one?
Is it two?
Is it three?
Benjamin Franklin famously said,
Three may keep a secret,
If two of them are dead.
Geoffrey Martin
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THE DRAGONSTEETH TREE
The sun has gone down and the dark veld sings;
the aloe tree which stands by itself,
snarls at the sky.
Strong trunk smooth as the hippo’s skin
though slashed and scarred,
black teeth bared to the red-gashed sky.
O Dragonsteeth Tree standing guard in the dark,
Hydra-like Cerberus snapping your jaws
at the scarlet sky.
Reminiscent of myths and monsters and blood,
giants and dinosaurs, armour, enchantment,
and far off things.
You know the deep secrets of other days,
memories and dreams of ancient wisdom
and magic rites.
But the snarling leaves guard their mystery
and the Dragonsteeth Tree alone in the dark
defies our questioning mind.
Clare Preston
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OUR LOVE
And when I slumbered in thy breast,
Whose arms encased my aching heart,
Knowing that for you, was less,
And would soon, for you, part.
The feelings. To go, to heights.
Tenderness, passion, love so rare.
To choose, a sigh of such delight
And take from night to morning light
Our love.
Hazel Barrett
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ABUSE OF POWER
Big Ben I see your tears
Society is full of fears
I can see you’re falling down
Many people stealing your crown
Watching, but silent is your bell
So many secrets, but will you tell?
Blind? No, just lost, ring your bell Ben, you’re the boss
Some don’t give a damn OK they will need one
When your tears flow their way
Big boss is watching from above he might let you flood
Tsunami, we don’t need but your waters are full of greed
Where is your ding and dong? They replace it with a bloody duck pond
From looters to booters drugs, and shooters too
So much evil wanting to hurt you
For you wear a true crown, that’s why they want you down
Stand up from your chair tell Ben you really care
Wipe tears from his face put his bell back in place
For he will turn blue holding secrets
That belong to you
Listen as well as hear
Lorraine Chantell Williams
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SMEAR CAMPAIGN
Horfield mafia know smears are untrue
Motley crew believe black is blue
Rather than seek truth behind lies
Soon to realise if storm bird flies
Evil muck spreaders fulfilling own needs
Distraction from their misdeeds
Snide remarks are part of vendetta tricks
With lackey henchmen’s stones and sticks
They blindly condemn
No easy heavenly way for them
Persecution conspirators will hear clank of jail
Nice as ninepence people, it’s beyond the pale
Justice will be done for producers of hate
Heavenly judgement to come soon or late
David K Maxwell
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LIFE AND DEATH
Be prepared for the light and the noise
To dazzle you.
Be prepared for the dark and the silence
To drown you.
Or, is it the other way around?
Tessa Connolly
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