Poem of the Week: ‘Buried Under’ by Kate Smith

3rd Place
‘A Subject Close to My Heart’ by Carole Donaldson

If it wasn’t for my brassiere, I don’t know where I’d be
With hunched up shoulders, I suppose, and boobs down to my knee

My vital stats give me what’s called an hour-glass-type shape
Causing me no end of worry, as my blouses tend to gape

I’m not what you’d call flat-chested; I’m very far from that
My heaving bosom quite describes a chest that isn’t flat

They’re hardly pert but you should see the cleavage that I sport
With much-needed wide stitching on the new bra that I bought

It’s not that I’m ungrateful; some poor women aren’t as bless’d
I try my best to hide the ample abundance of my chest

As it is, I am supported with the sturdy bra I’m in
Though balance is an issue with two ‘jugs’ under my chin

The feminists said burn your bras to fight for equality
But that’s not so wise if you measure up to a 40 Double-D

A strapless bra is hazardous, for sure without a doubt
You have to be so careful that the ‘puppies’ don’t drop out

So here I am extolling the virtues of a bra
With elastic straps and ‘cross your heart’ you know just where you are

I celebrate the brassiere, the most useful of all kits
It’s a very cool invention, and I love all mine to bits
And I’ll bet you thought to make it rhyme …
I’d have to mention “Tits”!

 

2nd Place
‘Backpedalling Furiously’ by Layla Hehir

From a roller to a rat,
called him cute,
now he’s fat.
Oh how our views have changed
since you broke up.

From a prince to a frog,
once a hero, now a dog.
Oh, it’s all coming out now
since you broke up.

All those days we hung out
I was inwardly dreaming
of having him strung up
like a rack of ribs steaming.

His tears rolling down, down
that rollable face
And all of us knowing
he has no escape.
Why not go for seconds?
It’s tasty as sin.
As I reach for the butter
i’m now glad of those chins.

Oh, you’re back together?
Oh ya, since last night?
Delighted to hear it…
You know I was joking right?

BIO: Layla Hehir is 25 years old and living in Galway. She was shortlisted in the Hotpress Write Here Write Now competition and won the readers choice award in the Lacomic Cup short story competition. She mainly writes poems as she is too lazy to finish stories and enjoys drinking wine with her cats.

 

1st Place
‘Buried Under’ by Kate Smith

It’s when the tide goes out that I’m most fearful.
My heart slaps against my bones
Every inch those waves retreat,
Leaving shattered shell cups
Broken stones
And leaking guts.
There’s nothing healing here –
It’s a dying, rotting pain –
And what’s to be gained
From spilling secrets?
Rolling back back back
Into the past.
Prising up the bed underneath,
The carefully placed rocks
Locked from view,
Your greedy hands are full.
But you won’t stop pulling me.

I won’t go with you.
Let me surface into the sky,
Let me be a bird –
See the swallow that skates
Over sea and sand
Daring itself to land.
Leave the fish to gape
Their mouths and fill themselves
With what’s no longer there.
I’ll raise my eyes,
Look upward and ahead,
What’s done is dead,
And best left behind.

BIO: “I have recently discovered the joys of creative writing while recovering from ME. I live in the beautiful countryside of north Northumberland where I get lots of inspiration for poems and short stories.”