Amber Tamblyn writes an excellent regular Poetry Corner column in BUST, and in April she held a poetry competition with BUST and Buzznet. There was an incredible amount of entries but Amber managed to settle on one winner, and two runner up entries. The winning entry is “we all begin somewhere” by Chelsea Comeau, a Canadian poet and Education Assistant currently working on a full-length book of poetry that she hopes to someday publish. Comeau has won an autographed copy of Amber Tamblyn's second book of poetry, Bang Ditto.
"This poem, for me, reflects how any great poem is created,” Amber said. “An experience told with seamless and thought provoking metaphor that unfolds and reveals itself without telling the reader it is doing so.” You can read the prize-winning poem in the August/September issue of BUST, on sale today!
Amber picked out two runner up winning entries as well. She selected “We Need Counseling” by Zurigirl123:
We Need Counseling
A game with no value for speed,
but you rush. This virtue is yet another
one of our circus children I despise.
Your throat is a river cresting through a museum,
a photograph of a way I thought of you once.
When you first connected us with the purple tube,
I assumed we would be sharing. Now I rifle through
my torso for the organs like pocket change.
Is it wrong that I still see you
as a dancer? Is it wrong that
I can't seem to mind the parade
of caribou that follow wherever you go?
Amber said: "I love this poem's simple and direct title, like something you would read in a pamphlet at the doctor's office, yet the body of the poem is a multi-meaning layered hell storm of relationship truths. The metaphor about the museum is stellar. Wait, let me put that in caps: STELLAR. And the last stanza is weird and strange and awesome and... And, and, and. Good poem all around."
The other runner up entry is Quixoticfae’s “kingdom:”
my jealous breasts seethe,
and barely there
beneath their thin cotton cage, hiding
how will I quit my hunger
if, lover, I cannot feed you
some succulent femininity,
a softer pillow for the ache in my chest
my hypocrite hands
to touch me now
beneath the sorrow of my stomach
how can I rightly arrive
when I am my only monster,
an enemy to each inch of flesh
a hateful kingdom, its melancholy queen
Amber said: "I enjoyed the random rhyming and great structure of this poem, which has a lot of painful youth to it. It reminds me of the poems I wrote in my first book, Free Stallion-- poems about body image and the map to how we as women naturally self destruct. Even in it's vulnerability, the strength of the writing and redemption (let's call it booby redemption!) seeps through and shines."
Read the winning entry in the August/September issue of BUST, on sale today!
Photo: Express Night Out