Berkshire Giant Poetry Competition - 3rd Place

As part of the Berkshire Giant project there have been many opportunities to get involved. Part of the participation programme was a series of free workshops workshops with performance poet Steve Larkin. Steve worked with local poets and people who are interested in poetry to develop their writing skills and style and to explore the themes of the Aldworth Giant Myth and John Ever Afraid himself. The many entries for the competition looked at the ideas from every imaginable angle and the three selected represent three very different perspectives and styles. The winners were selected anonymously by Steve Larkin himself. We are delighted to have been able to support these local writers in their work.

TRUMP!

by Barrie Singleton

Few now pay heed to Earth’s vicissitudes
when Sky God giants wrought internecine strife
and Wotan steered Thor’s freshly anvilled bolts
to harrow that fair face with Grim-gouged dyke.
Thus in my quest for Aldworth’s ingrained lore
- as stubbornly persistent as the Yew -
I have harked back to long-forgot ‘before’
and married it with paradigm - brand new.
The product of this fusion is my rock
where I make broad ecclesiastic claim;
asserting here: “The thunderbolt is Lord”
as witnessed once by man (and due again).
Yes! Something new shall now meet something old
as man’s astute enquiry lifts the veil.
Electric currents course the cosmic vault;
and random touch leaves excavation trail.
But time dilutes, and dilettante man
falls back from shock and awe: no lesson learned
as giants and all their works, dim memories,
transmute to feet of clay with each sod turned.

Who knows what drew the bloodline - “de la Beche”
to set their seat in Aldworth’s fertile folds?
What facile quirk of fate, stature decreed
that they became ‘the giants’ her church now holds?
And as ‘twer not enough, conflating so
it seems some feral minstrel malcontent
invented four more Giants to spice the mix
then left the scene – with neither spoor nor scent.
This wannabe Pied Piper nincompoop
John Long, John Strong, John Never Afraid, he coined.
Sang these three in, and out, of his charade
but left John Ever Afraid – and a good wall ruined.
By now, perhaps, this impish ne’er-do-well
is full-reformed of his mendacity;
be sure - he knew: pre-reformation wont
to inter dignitaries in masonry.
The arch–fool bent giant-folly to his will
bequeathing us a wall-arch questionnaire
invoking human weakness – de rigueur:
a de la Bechesque impasse: “Qui est la?”

And so, to giant-hunters, Aldworth bound
I say: “If you seek giants, watch the skies!
Turn neither left nor right at man-made ruse;
the Sky Gods stir – PREPARE FOR A SURPRISE!”

Barrie is the Chair of the Newbury Poetry workshop.