Drumroll, please! Chrismukkah poetry competition winners!

Feliciations, mes petites anges

Finally, I can announce the winners of my Crimbo poetry competition who will all be receiving a shiny, new copy of Nobody's Girl, plus a poster and bookmark, as well as having their winning poems posted right here, right now.

I had a lot of entries (especially after that time I had a leetle bit of a hissy fit, you remember?) and instead of having only five winners, I ended up with seven. Or maybe it was eight.

And keep checking back here, because I have lots of things to post in the next week or so as I have a little book coming out. Nobody's Girl from all good bookshops in the UK from February 4th.

Anyway, here are the winning odes, but, hey, you're all winners in my eyes!

Sarra x

From Kathryn

Her Royal Highness
Miss Princess Mopsyhead to
give her full title

Get a fortune on
E-bay for her but Molly
would not be impressed

Her Royal Highness
Miss Princess Mopsyhead the
real star of the book


From Stacey


Molly was simple,
Molly was pure,
Music was her outlet,
It was her cure,
For angst, for sadness,
For the cry of ever-waning attention,
To pass the time whilst she sat in detention,
But fame took all that, and left her broken,
She regretted the first words ever spoken,
To that demon, that angel, that beautiful boy,
That used her words and her heart like a toy,
Now she sits with Jane and Isabel and Smith,
Remembers that boy and his stolen kiss,
Thinks of how easily he was here and was gone,
And remembers his memory with the notes of a song.


From Ali

"Carter"
Messing with my head
Evil boy with a dumb name
Arrogant dickweed

"Paris, Je T'Aime"
Your silky black frame
Cascading, transforming me
Lovely magic dress

"Pretty Things"
Brand new kitten heels
Flowy, sheer, summery tops
Fluffy boylashes

“Magic Dress”
You caught my
Eye from the
Distance. The
Moment I saw
You, I knew
You were
The one
For me.


From Katy

For Charlie:

Charlie-boy, Charlie-boy
Your eyelashes are a joy
No need for mascara
No need for a curl
(It's such a shame you're not a girl...)

Love Brie xoxo

***

For Brie:

Brianna-girl, Briana-girl,
Next time you call me Charlie-boy
You will DIE!

Love Charlie x

***

To Charlie:

That doesn't even RHYME!

Love Brie xoxo



From Laura

sunday sun
shine on me
warm our skin
colour it toffee

enlighten the sheets
like smoke and cigarettes
chalk bright sunday
with us, there are no bets

they're off, the bets
like clothes thrown aside
and off like the rest
of the thoughts and the doubts in our minds

and sunday sun
shine on us
dazzle our eyes
close them and leave it to trust

your lips
the tips of your fingers
your kiss
the feel of it lingers on me

but sunday sun
dont leave us behind
keep us warm
keep us bright
and keep us intertwined



From Dearbhaile

Lost and Found (an ode to 'Let's Get Lost')

Sitting on a window ledge and waiting for something to happen.
Badges pinned on a t-shirt.
A broken arm.
When it feels like the walls are falling in,
There you are.
You are there.


From Brianna

A look, a glance, that's all it took.
To catch me like a fish on a hook.
I followed Edie through her crush.
I felt each touch, each kiss, each rush.
We packed for Paris, & got up late.
If we only knew what was to await.
I laughed when Mia's bag was tossed onto the street.
I smiled when Dylan did something sweet.
And when in the end they were together.
I thought that it would last forever.

But eventually, things didn't work out.
And I was there with Edie to cry and to pout.
During those long miserable weeks.
I violently loathed Veronique.
And when Carter finally came along.
I knew that things had gone all wrong.
Then Grace saved Edie from a terrible fate.
Of bumping uglies with a human ape.
And when Dylan got busy with polish and a brush.
It was enough to turn my heart to mush.

Soon after that we hopped on a plane.
And the first day in America was like a cold, hard rain.
But things got better as the trip went on.
Until suddenly one day, Dylan was gone.
After scary thoughts of all things bad.
Dylan introduced us to his dad.
I saw a side of him I thought I'd never see.
When he cried in bed beside Edie.
But eventually they had to go.
And I watched them on that fateful road.

But no matter the miles or distance apart.
Their story will always have a special place in my heart.


From Katie

Soft clouds billow in,
Or maybe something less poetic...
My mind blurs, patterns and words like paintings and postcards...or fashion ads.
Then there's you. Only you.
Your eyes, your hair,
your hands, your skin.
Your lips on my'n.
Soft and slow,
My heads all fuzzy.
Bang.
I'm all tingly as your lips move down my neck.
Bang.
Your eyes pour into my'n in a prelude to another kiss.
Bang!
Okay, what the fuck is with the banging?
Bang. Bang. Bang!
Dream gone.
You woke me up with your fucking bongos!

One day to go!

Hey!

Just wanted to remind you that the Chrismukkah poem competition ends up at midnight tomorrow (GMT.) So you have a little more than twenty four hours to get your entry in.

Since I had my little hissy-fit on here I've had tons of entries and I'm loving reading them. Remember it has to be some form of POEM about someone or something in one of my BOOKS left as a COMMENT here and the five best entries will win an advance copy of NOBODY'S GIRL, plus a bookmark and a poster.

I will post the winning entries on this here blog. You also don't need to keep reposting your comments - I haven't accepted any of them but have them archived as email notifications because I'm sure you don't all want your email addresses published on the interpipes.

I think that's everything. Remember, I love quirky and I love things that make me laugh or, at least, make me chuckle wryly.

Live on

Sarra x

Snap to it!

C'mon people!

I expected a much better response to my amazing end-of-year competition to win an advance copy of Nobody's Girl plus poster and bookmark. I've had four entries so far (two of them from the same person) and it's really not worth my while going to my publishers to plead for prizes if no-one's that interested in entering.

I'm extending the closing date to 11th January in the hope of attracting a few more takers. Writing a five line limerick, or heck, a haiku only has 17 syllables shouldn't be that taxing. It's not like there's much on telly!

So anyway, you know what to do. I don't like using my stern voice this early in a new year.

Live on

Sarra x