A competition win for Mr. Blewog?

I received a letter through the post today:

We are delighted to inform you that your entry has been selected to go through to the final stages of the Express Yourself competition.

You will receive 1st, 2nd or 3rd place and be presented your prize by the Heritage Minister and Ruth Jones at the Senedd on Thursday 25th of February.

So that’s exciting!

I suppose I should put the poem up now so here it is if you fancy a read:

All I See is Pages

Reclining in a coffee-shop-chair,
I’m reading The Times
Concealed behind a hefty thesaurus.
In the library, 2009 A.D.
.
But;
The ones in the past,
The ones who had to walk and could not talk,
The ones who had to physically look,
To find
Anything.
.
There was no comfort in those places of old,
The dust and must,
The shush and hush,
And  nobody could touch;
A keyboard,
Or a ‘Self-Service Check-Out & Renewal Facility.’
.
Reclining in a coffee-shop-chair,
I’m reading The Times
Concealed behind a hefty thesaurus.
.
I look up,
Towards the help desk horizon
And see a silhouette.
A Librarian.
All parts of this being are covered and hidden.
All I see is books.
All I see is books.
Although I know this surely is a person,
I cannot make out who this person is.
My mind wanders.
.
Mr. Arcimboldo told me from the pages of a pretty book,
In this room,
What ‘The Librarian’ would look like,
When I saw it.
But this being was not what Giuseppe said it would be,
“A collection of objects that forms a recognizable likeness of the portrait subject.”
This was a breathing
Thing.
The soul of the library.
I visualize;
.
She’s a she.
I close my eyes and she appears vividly before me,
And her china hands turn the pages,
And her fingernails run across each bump of punctuated punctuation.
And her voice is beckoning me,
“Locate my letter”
She says,
“I want you to find my character,
Locate my volvic rune,
You know the letter;
F is on top and H is under,”
Spot the librarian,
In my daydream,
She is seductive, sensual, slinky, spicy, steamy and suggestive.
(Or so said the camouflage thesaurus.)
.
Wake up!
.
I arise to find myself in a sweet yet sweaty state.
And try to decipher reality.
.
All I see is books.
All I see is books.
.
I visualize once more;
But now;
.
He’s a he.
Standing tall and powerful;
A mighty protector,
A man without fear,
Ensuring order in the vicinity of book-town.
Silencing rowdiness whilst alphabetizing mightily.
As well as violently ensuring that any internet access is for research purposes only.
He is Conan;
Conan the Librarian.
.
Wake up!
.
Reclining in a coffee-shop-chair,
I’m reading The Times,
Concealed behind a hefty thesaurus.
In the library, 2009 A.D.
.
I view the silhouette once more,
It is coming.
It is coming.
Step,
Step,
Step,
Step,
Stop.
I rise from hiding,
Have I been sensationalizing this unsurprising…
Creature?
.
I bury my head in fear of disappointment as it’s shadow passes over me.
.
“Excuse me!”
It said.
“That Thesaurus was due back three weeks ago!”
.

2 thoughts on “A competition win for Mr. Blewog?

  1. very good. amusing. clever phrases. Can’t always follow the meaning but then that’s the way with poetry? symmetrical. a story.

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