Congratulations to our 2002 Poetry Slammer Winners!!! Here they are:
By Iver Arnegard
All of us here are drawn by a common thirst.
The one that makes hard edges softer
and buries old mistakes.
The bartender pours another and smiles.
I look to her fingers for promises and see none,
think maybe this face will pass for gold and it doesn't.
Just another settler searching abandoned mines.
Then an old Sourdough shouts
and I'm supposed to raise my glass.
I say, "Not so fast man
--a shovel-full at a time."
Perhaps a little haiku?
by Don Birdseye
once capped, are now free
to dance on our tongues
To Know the Gravity of Ones Birth
To know the gravity of ones birth
To Dance with sorrow and bow to mirth
To live with a smile upon ones lips
unhindered by time as it slips
Indulging pleasure avoiding strife
these are the joys of living life.
by Emil Churchin
center of a very
large bubble there is no
extra pressure -- it is calm;
and while I'm somewhat worried and
concerned with what's outside the
bubble, its a strange sensation. I
didn't believe after twenty-five years
I would have a new feeling being bored
with life as it seems, and now this
alive; and for a moment in all that
ever was, or will be, there is me
talking to you, four A.M. Sunday
full moon, without thinking
whether god or anyone else
listening could bene-
-fit or harm.
Service With A Smile
by Tara Cowen
On how best to draw a beer
Debate has raged: the eons pass.
Common wisdom holds today
To ease it in the glass
Slip it softly down the side
So as mug caresses lip,
No single bubble comes between
The sipper and the sip.
What nonsense, this passion!
Slam that beverage home.
I want a creamy mustache,
I want to see that foam.
From thinnest ale to the thickest stout,
Golden, brown or red,
Don't soothe that brew, arouse it!
With my beer, give me head.
Birds of a Feather
by Greg Myhre
Come closer old son
said Barnacle Bill to his buddy Bob.
I'll wager you a dozen fine bottles
Of Borealis brew, I can
blow up a north wind better than you.
Huffing and puffing to no avail
Barnacle, blue faced, did fail.
Solace soon found imbibing the prize
both men teetered and tilted and grew less wise.
The stories raised taller, almost near lies.
Said Barnacle Bill to Bob, you spin quite a tale,
I suppose that flounder you caught last week
will soon be a whale.
by Sarah Stern
Make it bitter
then send it my way.
the day is done,
the work was hard;
I take a deep breath(!)
(and) let down my guard(!)
my very own thoughts
can now fill up my head
aah... I drink my beer
and go to bed
by Anders Carlson
Got a pen
So I go
I've been here
But still alone
Who is the
Then sits in a
Fly on the wall
But right now,
My tab is
by Emil Churchin
Slowly she dances in this skirt;
She dances when she stands with
her elbows on the bar-stooled table
She is molded in her situation,
thinking she could change location
any time, leave all this for a book, a beer, a bubble bath
and nowhere a man in sight.
She stands outside the alley door
her feet apart and her arms folded
with music, and the star-cooled
cloudy night sky
Her beauty is a focused, expanded,
detailed comprehensive beauty
of being beyond ananysis.
Pouring over clandestine passion,
hands are warm somewhere.
She felt it from the dock,
wind-directed chills of half-glances.
For all embracement, discomfort,
and loss, there are still things
in the woods: tree stumps, moss,
toad stools, leaves, rocks, feathers...
The bands of light circle out,
the downs come and show her,
the reality drops.
Testament to Beer
by Garret Beer-lovin, Growler Guzzlin, Lady Hustlin, Alaska Ruff'n, Poetry Writin, COntest Winnin, Don't Know Where This is Goin, Ennis
Give me a beer or give me death.
I don't want your coolders
Ciders, or drinks without depth.
I need the satisfying taste
Of hops, barley and wheat.
For this is the stuff that makes
Little girly-men weep.
_______________Not a winner, but fun!_______________
Borealis my Precious
by Göran Långstedt
Borealis my precious
Ye marvellous treasure
Ye ultimate measure
Of my belly's pleasure
One for the road
Two for the load
Oh yea, Borealis!
Three for fun
Four to run
A fifth for bliss
A sixth not miss
Oh yea, Borealis!
Seven for heaven
Eight for height
Nine for spine
Ten to divine
Oh yea, Borealis!
All twelve for all!
In Valhalla Odin sat, his eye gone grimly dark
Ye wasted scoundrels, bring me the fiend!
Who did this utter waste, in thunder he'd bark,
Who stole my beer shall have no friend!
Valhalla's slaves widely trembling in ghastly fear
Neither watch they dared, nor potent voice to hear
Menacingly cold a silent mist hushed down the hall,
No sound, no whisper dared float from wall to wall
In strolled Thor, look he shouted, see this fellow
I found up north, idly lingering beneath a willow,
Calling himself Eric Red, but see that barrel huge
He holds. No beer, you say? This could you all deluge!
Dark clouds gone from face, Odin voice rose in roar
Borealis! By all howling Æsir and Vikings dreadful
You useless, of that beer, bring me a brimful headful
Up on feet, feed the fire, we'll us roast a juicy boar
Borealis, Odin mellowed, the best beer I ever saw
This fellow Eric, our guest he'll be, fresh and raw
So, each morning he'll us bring ten full Borealis vats
For us each day to fill our immense heads and hats
Borealis! The beer for decent Viking gods!
Valhalla's gods hailing down their cheers
Had Eric's barrel soon gone and empty
So Thor and Eric gladly, with feet askew
went down north to fetch ten barrels few