On September 02, 2021 we accounced
"When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan": A Contest
As we head into Labor Day weekend, we announce a new contest:
"When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan"
With this as your title, write a maximum of 14 lines (verse) or 140 words (prose).
Post your entry in the comments field.
Entries will be judged on the criteria of excellence, lucidity, wit, and brevity. Prizes, including a copy of The Best American Poetry 2021, will be given to the best and to the briefest coherent piece of writing.
Judge: Jim Cummins
Contest end date Sept 30
Previous BAP contests were judged by Mark Strand, Paul Violi, and Mark Bibbins.
http://www.bestamericanpoetry.com/pages/contest1winner.html
http://www.bestamericanpoetry.com/pages/contest2winner.html
http://www.bestamericanpoetry.com/pages/contest3winner.html
See the winners for 2007 and 2009.
To see the entries, check the comments field here -- and click here for a couple of others:
https://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2021/09/when-charles-bukowski-met-bob-dylan-terence-winch.html
“Call me Buk”
“It ain’t me Babe”
Posted by: Maria Leng | September 28, 2021 at 05:50 PM
“Babe?”
“Buk!”
Posted by: Maria Leng | September 28, 2021 at 07:27 PM
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
Charles envied Bob’s regret.
Bob envied Charles’ youth.
Both envied for the sake of poetry.
Neither envied for the sake of life.
Posted by: Julia Hong | September 30, 2021 at 05:35 AM
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
They ran into each other in a nameless pub
Well isn’t that blowin’ Bob Dylan
who woos the critics with hypocritical subtleties,
Says Bukowski who writes his ass off to plead to readers
—a discordance with your gross and barbaric imagery.
The two men’s pride were hurt
and their table more and more crowded with empty glasses
When hours passed and someone walked over to them
he found two vulnerable babies asleep, y’all embracing their bodies stenched in beer and LSD.
Posted by: Yuna Yea | September 30, 2021 at 07:42 AM
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
One writes about the unimportant,
One sings about the enlightenment.
One lives to be the spotlight,
One chooses to be the shadow.
One braves the current,
One lets it carry him away.
But as white keys and black keys never fight,
They together play the full scale, weaving the world into words.
Posted by: Jiho Shin | September 30, 2021 at 08:46 AM
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
March 19, 1962
Marked my debut
Celebrating with a drink
or maybe a few
Suddenly I hear a bell ring
Or was that a glass clink?
Grudgingly I check
and what the heck
Some old dude
is drinking my booze
He’s throwing letters, making a mess
This isn't even the correct address
I’m definitely reporting this mailman from USPS
Posted by: Julia Pak | September 30, 2021 at 06:16 PM
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
Chianti flowed in the streets
Wolfgang Pauli burst into flames
Nothing to see here—
Keep on truckin’
Two riders were approaching
Riders on the storm
Hey—get outta here
Morrison! There’s only
Room enough in this
Town for two enormous
Poets and one enormous
Room and the wind
Began to howl
Posted by: Loren Goodman | October 01, 2021 at 12:42 AM
(corrected)
When Charles Bukowski Met Bob Dylan
Chianti flowed in the streets
Wolfgang Pauli burst into flames
Nothing to see here—
Keep on truckin’
Two riders were approaching
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're
Hey—get outta here
Morrison! There’s only
Room enough in this
Town for two enormous
Poets and one enormous
Room and the wind
Began to howl
Posted by: Loren Goodman | October 01, 2021 at 12:50 AM