|S.L.A.M = She. Lost. And. Mourned.|
The winner was another local poet, Craig Lambert, and I liked this poem he performed so much I asked him if I could post it here. He said no, so I hit him with my handbag, poured a drink over his head, then pulled his chair away just as he was going to sit in it so that he landed on the floor in a heap. Then he gave in.
The poem's about how contradictory so many proverbs and sayings are in terms of the advice they give. I like its linguistic angle on daily life and its humour. Thanks, Craig, for giving in, and I'm sorry about the bruises.
so while your neighbour turns the other cheek,
as his incontinent spaniel craps on your lawn;
tell him you're simply adhering to the principle of an eye for an eye
as you jab his mutt in the face with a pitchfork.
because many hands make light work,
remind her that too many cooks spoil the broth
as you crack open a can of Stella and settle down
to watch the footie. Although if absence
makes the heart grow fonder, why is she shouting?
unless the gander is eating another man's poison
rather than one man's meat. For even though birds of a feather
Although she couldn't boil an egg without making an omelette.
but dad told me to strike while the iron is hot.
They grew to hate each other after twenty years
of swapping oxymorons over the dining table,
knowing full well that while the best things in life are free,
there's no such thing as a free lunch.
it's easy to be wise after the divorce papers.
After all, the pen is mightier than the sword.
Yet sometimes I wonder if actions do speak
louder than words, if silence is golden,
or if the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
is the latest maxim I'd like to adhere to;
but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
In the meantime, although every dog will have its day,
next door's dog will soon find out that in this life
you make your own luck.