HERE AT Global Voices we're in love with lots of things: blogging, international friendships, foreign languages, free wi-fi. And there are even some of us on the GV team who don't consider Valentine's Day a cheesy occasion viewed positively only by Americans, florists, chocolatiers and the CEOs of greeting card companies.
So, when — on soliciting suggestions for a way to mark Valentine's Day in these pages — our co-founder Rebecca MacKinnon mentioned a poetry contest she ran on her blog a couple of years ago, we fell so deeply in love with the idea that we decided to steal it for ourselves.
So if you're in the mood for love, or even if you view Valentine's Day (or love) with a jaundiced eye (as we all know, some of the best poetry is born of distress), please take part in our Valentine's Day poetry contest.
CONTEST RULES
- Entries must be in some sort of verse, not necessarily rhyming
- Entries must be no more than 30 lines long
- Entries must in some way have to do with 1) love/Valentine's Day and 2) blogging/citizen media, and have some sort of “regional flavour” (we'll leave it up to you to decide what that means)
- Entries may be submitted in any language, though submissions NOT in English, French, Arabic, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, Farsi or Mandarin Chinese MUST be accompanied by an English translation
- Entries are open to anyone anywhere in the world, including Global Voices editors, authors and advisory board members
- Entries must be the original work of the entrant and should not have been previously published elsewhere before February 1, 2007
- Entries must be submitted in the comments section for this post and will be moderated according to the guidelines governing all other comments received at Global Voices (ie no hate speech, obscenities etc). Feel free to send in as many as you wish, but please submit only one poem per comment box
- Entries must be posted by midnight PST (GMT -8) on Wednesday 14 February, 2007 to be considered for the contest (please provide a genuine email address)
The winning entries will be showcased on the Global Voices web site.
So what are you waiting on? In some parts of the world it's already Valentine's Day, so get cracking on that haiku/limerick/ghazal/madrigal/sonnet/ode/gangsta rap/elegy about the wonders/joys/perils of love!
UPDATE: The contest is now closed!
Image: A costume component from the “Heart that Sings” section of “The Sacred Heart”, Peter Minshall's 2006 presentation for the Trinidad & Tobago carnival. Courtesy caribbeanfreephoto.
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Realize Our Power
I want to love the world with open arms,
Not carry armaments, or threats of death.
I want to love the world with all my heart,
Reconstruct that done to tear it apart.
I want that every blogger on the web,
Send other words: the truth; it’s not been said.
We promise to seek peace and compromise,
In every language, from every land - real eyes.
Can the poem be posted on our blog simultaneously?
By all means, post the poems simultaneously on your blogs!
We’d also appreciate if you could include a link to this post along with the poem.
Looking forward to reading everyone’s submissions!
Will David Sasaki take part in the poetry contest??
Amira: You’ll have to ask David Sasaki.
Who are the contest judges?
Nicholas: The contest will be judged by a panel of eminent, er, Global Voices people. Hope you’re planning on submitting something.
If
if I was a bird,
you are the colour on my wings.
if I was a fish,
you are the rainbow on my back.
if I was the land,
you are the flower growing in me.
if I was a star,
you are the light shining from me.
if I was a song,
you are my music.
if I was that boy,
you are my girl.
if,
if only,
…if only.
The red sun comes out of eclipse
When I use it to paint your scarlet lips
The moon shies away, as it cannot guise
The glister of the pearls, in your eyes
The birds that herald the morning springs
The songs of love that the robin sings
All an anthem of the beauty you bring.
The joyous raindrop as it touches your eyes
It illumes your glare as it swims and flies.
And then glimmering colors, engrail the skies.
As you smile a sunrise.
The lambent tongue of a flickering flame
The love struck moth, oh what it became.
But as a prisoner of love, I am fond of my cage
I am imbued in ardor, as I fill this page.
Where ever, my beloved, we have walked or strolled,
The dust of our footprints would stay and grow old.
And after a thousand years, one spring unfolds,
They will croon and chant, our love story be told.
And the angels descend, in the hour of wee
“we come to you, with a humble plea”
And then they ask, “Love, what meaning lurks in this,
What can we give, to adventure a kiss?
The one that flaunts, an Edenic bliss.”
“Here are the wings, with which we once flew,
Now show us the love, virtuous and true.”
And then I simply, point them to you.
Because for me, Love is You.
- by Nabeel Zeeshan, 2007
Blogging too is an
act of love - the heart posted
awaiting comment.
He who spikes my page
views, gently clicking
through. Cursors hovering,
touching.
I blog your ablutions,
spam your trolls, come
back and comment under
names.
Your sexy typing, your
languid html. They spin
me, feed my bulging, sacred
opml.
Then at night, my slightly
crazy eyes scan the moderation
queue, but none, from
you.
My blog that smelled sweetly
of Valentine and love, waits
with buxom posts, for your IP
to show.
Bachata
(for Nadia)
After every party in our house
when the reggae, reggaeton, R&B
have exhausted the younger couples,
and they sit separately to cool down,
I want to dance with you,
the way our friends, Miguel and Ramona,
who have made a promise,
that despite their struggle
with lawyers, bill collectors, and cancer,
they will never leave each other,
and whenever the bachata begins–
we stop to watch how
he will catch her–
she spins out of his arm’s reach
they pass like strangers,
but then his hand
finds the small of her back,
her legs quiver to the old music,
and they are partners in time
with the rhythm, once more.
Dear All
I,m alone man no body love me but like a girl she did,t like me by
i wish you were in my room….
on my bad,,,
the light is off ,we are under the blanket and
………..i show u my new mobile
Tangy
Love, they say, is an act
of faith and that too blind
Oblivious, to my lack of tact
I set out with an open mind.
Poetry and prose scattered
on blue pages of my washed out blog
As though nothing else mattered
Except the comment space you hog.
Come hither, beckoned the monsoonal call
Jump in the puddle and splash me with mud
Let the number of clicks and links not matter at all
Litter, all over my page, your well-chewed cud.
As the world screamed, work!, in capital mails
A small `heylo’ sneaked in and sat
A smiley hugged, winked and embarked on tales
Vexing my answers with questions pat.
O moi valentine, so I say today
My tangy, imli-sauteed-papri-chaat
Let my tummy complain from now till May
I’ll eat you with all my heart.
—————
Imli is the hindi word for Tamarind. Papri Chaat is an Indian fast food.
The link to this post on my blog is:
http://firstrain.blogspot.com/2007/02/tangy.html
[…] Fuente: Global Voices. Lea este post en Inglés. […]
LOL Neha! Shall I allow my imagination to run wild!!!
Amira: Like you need my permission! Heh!
[…] I demand that you participate in this contest. […]
[…] Poetry? On Valentine’s Day? Whodathunk it? Still, I have no qualms about steering people here for a look at some bloggers’ peotic thoughts on what Valentine’s Day means to them. […]
Love Sonnet to a New Post
When, in disgrace with Orkut and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my sitemeter;
Trouble other bloggers, crave replies,
Fisk Paul to be blogrolled by Peter.
Wishing myself like to one more rich in prose,
Features like his, like him with links possess’d,
Wanting this man’s template, that man’s jokes;
With what I most enjoy commented least.
Then, in these thoughts at myself griping
Haply I think of thee, and then my state
Like to a million monkeys at daybreak typing
Writes Shakespeare, or something approximate.
For thy sweet love conceived so perfectly maddens,
Than then I scorn to change my site with Scott Adams.
Yet another Valentine’s day
Yet another Valentine’s day
when I don’t know the way
all I can say
i’m waiting for you to make my day
Blogging frees my mind
the worries melt away
I’m aching for that expressive email
that makes my heart sway
The night is still young
the dawn is far away
I’m waiting for my tam-brahm girl
who will make my heart unfurl
No one provides any succour
I shall turn to humour
Here I am in an alien land
waiting to be someone’s hero
However, there isn’t much hope
girls here form a set of measure zero
I can’t stay put
I keep logging onto Orkut
However, there isn’t much hope
I think I’ll become the Pope !
Speak for we all have love
One day when sitting under the pier
I ask of you to take hold of my hand
And walk for a while on the cold gritty sand
So I can show you off to my friends, from a far distant land
How will we get there, you hastily add
(From here we can see the world)
As I show you my blog, this crazy new fad
To share our love to all who will see
This Valentines Day atrocity
If love is evil, and love is dead
(Through lover’s pain of breaking up)
Then what is here, but a morgue of red roses?
Love is much more, its hear as we speak
A united army of voices and souls
Take control of our world, cherish and speak
Foto en Pixeles o Conjeturas hechas cuando veo la foto del amado en su blog
(Panamá)
Conjuras.
Conjuntas y renacen.
Arranque sin asco
del hombre un color,
Las voces que oyes,
mi palabra que dice
parpadeando en luz
tu imagen.
Translation of poem by Global Voices editor David Sasaki:
Photo in pixels or conjectures arrising when looking at my beloved’s photo on his blog. (Panama)
Conjurer.
Together and reborned.
Color uprooted
from man without revolt.
The voices you hear,
my word that speaks,
in flickering light,
your image.
Madam, I am 28, single.
I live alone, and nobody
has my Orkut password.
I have never had a girl
friend. Madam, I think
I am lonely. Are you?
Scrap me with your
ladyfingers. On IM we
will profess online love.
Don’t tell me you are
married. Does not say so
on your very public profile.
On Valentine, I hunt for
empty scrap books. I am
finding your lovely self Madam.
I don’t need
to know
englísh
to say you
how a guy like me
can write in a blog
the most recorded words
in the world
I love you
(in Global Love)
El olor de tu recuerdo me ha hecho calmar las ansias resguardadas como pelotones en mi pecho, se han atrincherado y se contentan con distanciadas raciones de canciones y comidas, de vinos buenos y malos, de frases hechas y emociones deshechas.
En medio de este mundo inmenso que todos los días nos restriega que es cada vez más minimo, tu te me has perdido de la cibergalaxia, te escapaste a través de la fibra óptica, te ocultaste en la nueva colonia.
Ven y tomame nuevamente con tu risa jacarandosa, con tu cabello brillante atame a tus ideas, no permitas que mire a otros ojos que no contengan la almibarada presencia de tus almendras oscuras
Translation by David Sasaki
The scent of your memory has calmed my sheltered nerves like punches on my chest. They have retreated and found content with divided rations of songs, meals, good and bad wines, statements made, and shattered emotions.
In the middle of this immense world that every day rubs its contraction in our faces, you have left me in the cybergalaxy, you escaped through fiber optics, you hid in a new neighborhood.
Come and take me again with your carefree laugh; with your shining hair, tie me to your ideas, don’t allow me to look at other eyes that don’t contain the sweet presence of your dark almonds.
l’Amour “MoraMora”
le soleil m’a prédit
que je croiserai ta route
mais que si tu n’es pas encore là
il ne faut pas que je m’inquiète
car tu entreras dans ma vie
façon doucement doucement
le vent m’a murmuré
que tu seras raffiné(e)
mais que… si tu n’es pas encore là
il ne faudrait pas que je m’inquiète
car tu entreras dans ma vie
façon doucement doucement
les oiseaux m’ont raconté
que tu seras réservé(e), très très soigné(e),
et surtout cultivé(e)
mais que … si tu n’es pas encore là
il ne faudrait pas que je m’inquiète
car tu entreras dans ma vie
façon doucement doucement
puisque tout est écrit
et puisqu’ils m’ont dèja tous dit
j’ai vraiment envie de croire
et même hâte de te voir
ne prend pas trop ton temps
façon doucement doucement
Hjk
_________
“moramora” est un mot malgache qui signifie : “doucement doucement”. Slowlow en englais. C’est la conception malgache de la vie et du temps. Un art de vivre à Madagascar. On ne se précipite pas, car tout vient à point à qui sait attendre. Je pensais notamment à tous ces célibataires, errant sur la toile, n’ayant pas trouver la personne idéale dans la vrai vie et espérant un jour de la trouver sur le web :)… on ne désespère pas car un jour ça viendra.
Translation of poem by Global Voices editor Alice Backer:
“moramora” love
the sun has told me
that i will cross your path
but that if you’re not yet there
that I need not worry
for you will enter my life
slow-ly slow-ly
the wind has whispered to me
that you will be refined
but that … if you’re not yet there
that I need not worry
for you will enter my life
slow-ly slow-ly
the birds have recounted to me
that you will be reserved, very very neat
and most of all cultured
but that … if you’re not yet there
that I need not worry
for you will enter my life
slow-ly slow-ly
since it was all written
and since they’ve already told me
i really want to believe
and am even dying to see
don’t take too long
though slow-ly slow-ly
Hjk
————-
“moramora” is a malagasy word that means: “slowlyslowly”. It is the Malagasy idea of life and time. A way of life in Madagascar. We do not hurry since good things come to those who wait. I was especially thinking of all singles, erring on the sand, not having found that ideal person in real life but hoping to one day find him/her on the web :)… We don’t despair because one they he/she will show up.
Love the idea but I cannot find a rhyme to save my life so no submission from me. I would like to vote for my fave poem though, is there a way to do that ? :)
[…] Then, check out the Global Voices Valentine’s Day Poetry Contest, where Falstaff (here) and Neha (here and here) have hilarious entries. […]
To tell the truth, lova, I hadn’t thought of instituting a voting system, but that’s not a bad idea at all. . . .
Will keep folks posted.
There is a listing in the student buy and sell site, entitled “Do you remember me?” It reads:
Do you remember me?
Airport shuttle, June 7th
You: Striking blonde, yellow dress, pearl necklace, brown shoes
I was the bookish fellow with the green cardigan who helped you find your contact lens.
Am I crazy, or did we have a moment?
The page says that the listing had been viewed 241 times. Four of those viewings are mine. 238 people have read that listing lured by the possibilities of feeling and romance in the sentence “Do you remember me?”
In a time marked by fleeting emotions and faint memories, someone remembers the first flush of June tenderness in orange October.
The picture conjured in my head is perfect. Reality, meeting; consummation have not sullied this picture perfection.
I contemplate posting a listing of my own. It will read:
Will you find me?
Lonely, ordinary girl seeks a love that will transform her life
You: Kind, tolerant of moodiness, willing to wipe errant and unnecessary tears
Me: ashamed of being needy, opinionated, loving, even moving sometimes
Am I crazy, or do you really exist?
I daydream in clichés. Wild flowers and literary quotes on someone’s desk. Taking walks in the park hand-in-hand. Coming back home to find someone waiting for me.
On still frigid Saturday afternoons, I comb the listings. To chance upon a stranger’s sudden admission of love. To be reminded that traces of love, hope and desire still linger around me. Perhaps even within me.
An Ode
To the words that tumble softly on to her page
That share my dreams, my screams,
My three-thirty-in-the-morning schemes.
To the thoughts that talk in Times Roman
That without intent adonize, that lionize,
That with gossamer softness tyrannize.
To her comments-link lit up in bashful red
Causing reveries that wind, I find
End with the lame being led by the blind.
To the whiteness of her face looking to mine
For a clear voice, a considered choice
The wished-for grace that will lend her poise.
To my blog,
Happy February 14th.
My blog you are a wondrous thing!
To you this poem I write and sing.
You’re always there (except for when
My ISP baulks and even then
I know you’re there, waiting for me,
Saying “new post” seductively.)
(And also except for when Blogger
Is down (that can be a bugger).)
Next, “regional flavour” I must inject.
As per what Georgiaji expects.
But fourteen lines is all we got
So skip that and shove in this thought:
“Oh how I love thee, bloggy mine,
My one true love, my Valentine.”
Zz: was betting that you’d submit something, and sure enough, here you are!
And Georgiaji appreciates very much that you took note of the rule about “regional flavour” — very clever.
A TOURIST IN MASERU
Love from the start was touch and go
when both our hands
at that
bazaar
opted for the sole, ripe mango/
we grinned, then
pandered to
a gay
valentine in my Sotho world/
after you left
with your
guitar,
ending summer, no single word
from you to me,
until
today
She calls it..
She calls it national chocolate for sex exchange day
i call it lonesome love
she calls an ode to a friend
i call it lonesome love
she calls it an innocent text
i call it lonesome love
she calls it a [blog] post that made me think of you
i call it lonesome love
she calls it just dinner
i call it lonesome love
she calls it all correctly
while i type away wishing i were in love
A Beautiful Valentine’s Day
a beautiful valentine’s day
two doves are nesting on a tree branch
they chirped sweetly to the sun
oh i wonder, where’s the cupid at?
he suppose to shoot me to the blue moon
but he ain’t there
so i steadily looking at the two white doves
wishing i could be with him on this
a beautiful valentine’s day
oh I love him so he loves me too
only meant to be
smells like romantic spring
roses are so funky red
and sometimes i feel so blue
i just wanna be with him
on this-a beautiful valentine’s day
~
© Kai C.
The Seventy per-cent Solution: A Valediction
for J Paul Serengeti
What can I do to prove to you
That I really am a dog?
(Damn you, New Yorker!)
Show loyalty? (By blogging daily? Answering every comment?)
Fetch? (Tried that; got sued by these people)
Sniff the behinds of other members of the dogosphere? (Would try it if I knew how)
“canineboy88″: a beguiling handle
And I, a novice in the ways of instant messaging,
Allowed you to lead me on.
You found my dog-talk “authentic”;
I found yours endearingly lame.
Who knew the answer would arrive
In a heart-shaped box?
“Be my Valentine!” your card read,
“Quit pretending you’re a dog and marry me!”
70% cocoa. Bittersweet.
It wasn’t easy swallowing that last praline.
But at least now, perhaps you will believe that I am a dog
Or I was a dog
And stop hounding me.
(Full disclosure: I live in the same house as the writer of this post, so please don’t give me the prize! And the “dogosphere” is a region, isn’t it?)
Global Voices, Global Voices,
You who gives us so many choices,
We thought you wouldn’t be averse
To being the subject of a verse.
So here we are, with our doggerel
(It’s past deadline here, but wotthehell,
Time zones work in our favour!
How’s that for Regional Flavour?)
So Global, Global, Voices, Voices,
At your presence we rejoices.
So many voices you give us globally,
We read until our eyes go wobbly.
We wonders Gee Vee, really we do,
Would we win if we suck up to you?
At the least, would we get loads more traffic
Aside from the ones in search of the pronographic?
Oh Voices, Voices, Global, Global,
we love your mission, it’s so noble.
Unconditionally we would give you our heart, but
Last year, this time, you kicked our butt.
(-: Happy hearts and flowers, y’all. :-)
Georgiaji,
We’re delighted that you picked up on that one.
~peter g
Hehe. Loved Zz’s new one.
Esteeee…. creo que es muy tarde para que entre en el concurso, pero igual ahí va:
Cómo decirte que te amo
Si mi servidor está colgado?
Cómo poder mirar tu foto
Si no la tienes puesta en Zoto?
Ah la cruel distancia,
No hay email, chat o blog
Que reemplazen
El terciopelo de tu voz,
La picardía de tu mirada,
La explosión de tu sonrisa.
Hoy escribiré de política y economía,
Pero en lo único que pienso es en hacerte mía.
—————
Si alguien se anima traducirla a inglés se lo agradeceré.
You were loved with all that was there
Through countless offliners
Quick ISDs
An aching heart,
and a desperate soul.
But then the spineless-ness showed
When out of the blue
You said
arranged marriages were way cooler
An obscene dowry
and a ford fiesta included
Or atleast that’s what your mum said.
Sometimes, don’t you wish
she had
shorter apron strings.
Sigh.
The memories,and the hatred stay on
Long afer
Like this poem, much beyond its deadline
Futile, utterly futile.
[…] that unfeeling oaf, this valentine week… Jump to Comments (the poem is the Song Lady’s delayed entry in the Global Voices Valentine’s day poetrycontest - totally amateur - the Song Lady should probably stick to her solo concerts,the audience being her tiled bathroom walls) […]
He llegado tarde al concurso, pero igual les dejo uno de los que escribí hace un tiempo, y que forma parte de una historia especial para mí.
Espero que les guste seguir recibiendo poemas, porque la poesía es necesaria todos los días.
Qué palabras me regalas, qué sonidos nuevos adornan mi tibieza.
Bebes de tu copa una mirada de azul dominio.
Este enredo que nos anuda y del que no salimos sino para encontrar nuevos nudos.
Naufragio de tu cuello.
Incendio. Somos noche sanjuanera.
Volutas alegres.
Borras el mundo, lo lavas, lo pones a blanquear
lo cuelgas al sol.
Y el mundo danza al viento y ellos juegan, ensayan con sus alitas precarias.
El tiempo de tus versos en mis manos como arena para la espuma y brillan…
Brillan hacia un sol bucal que se lleva mis dedos y los prueba con lamidas de calor
Oliverio, somos tres en una misma llama que sube y estoy enorme.
Hay tres latidos en una carne. Tres asaltos cotidianos en un sólo movimiento.
Tres estrellas de una misma cintura blanca.
Hay una cuna que nos mece con mano de canto
caricia de algas y estrépitos ondulantes
Te llevas mi ombligo al oído y me escuchas
caracola perdida en una orilla gaviota
“Estas llena de mar Alejandra. En tí se estremecen las mareas, las escucho suspirarte dentro.”
Envuelvo tu soledad como valva de ostra viva
me la trago con sangre de nácar puro
la regreso al océano
Sangramos boca a boca.
Dame a beber de tu fuego oscuro
Siente…
Llegan las olas nocturnas…
La saga completa hasta ahora, de los poemas de Oliverio y Alejandra, están aquí: http://sikanda.fulguris.net/category/oliverio-y-alejandra/
Espero que los disfruten :-)
I know I’m late. I’m always late. Anyway, here’s a poem for my Valentine… where ever she may be:
You are inside me
You live inside me
I am your home
Your favourite gnome
Open my door
Open your door
Let’s grow old
Are you cold
my blood warm you up
you warm me up
Let’s be happy
Are you hungry
Feed on my love
I feed on your love
Plant flowers in my heart
It’s not yet time to part
You live inside me
I keep you inside me
[…] Many thanks to all who submitted entries for the Global Voices Valentine’s Day poetry contest. We had 28 submissions in all, including some fine doggerel, plus one entry from an actual dog! […]
[…] Poetry? On Valentine’s Day? Whodathunk it? Still, I have no qualms about steering people here for a look at some bloggers’ peotic thoughts on what Valentine’s Day means to them. […]