Louis Esterhuizen. Inskrywings vir Hippokrates-poësieprys ingewag

Met ‘n prysgeld van £5,000 is die Hippokrates-poësieprys sekerlik een van die grootste pryse wêreldwyd vir ‘n enkelgedig. Die sluitingsdatum vir inskrywings is 31 Januarie 2014 en jou inskrywing moet uiteraard in Engels wees, ongepubliseerd en dit mag ook nie langer as 50 versreëls wees nie. Hierdie prys, wat nou in sy vierde bestaansjaar is, het reeds soveel as 5,000 inskrywings vanuit 55 lande gelok.

Vanjaar se beoordelaars is die digter Philip Gross, die regsgeleerde Robert Francis en die uitgewer Sarah Crown. Gross het in 2009 die TS Eliot-poësieprys verwower met sy bundel The Water Table . Sy bundel I Spy Pinhole Eye het die Walliese Boek-van-die-jaar-toekenning gekry in 2010. Tans is hy as professor in kreatiewe skryfwerk verbonde aan die Glamorgan Universiteit.

Jy kan hier inteken vir die kompetisie.

Hieronder volg twee gedigte wat as wenners in die vorige kompetisies aangewys was.

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Liberty Bodice

A few days after the operation the nurses let you in the shower room alone. The one with the mirror.

The dressing on your left side is felted, fixed like the old-fashioned vests you wore to boarding school –

from this angle, you’re twelve, embarrassed, packed away. From the other, you’re a woman.

You turn one way, and back again. The nurses listen outside. But it’s later you cry, in your sleep, secretly,

like homesick girls in the dormitory, down both sides of your face into your brand new, flatter pyjamas.

© Sian Hughes

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Time to Get Ready

Take off that hair;

take off that self-assured air;

take out those teeth;

take that spring from your step and replace it

with a hesitant shuffle.

Take the fresh whites of your eyes

and smudge them yellow.

Take off that sexual appeal:

you won’t be needing that any more.

The respect of others: your self-respect too:

they’ll have to go.

Put on this extra weight,

these jowls, these liver-spots,

this tremor, these restless nights,

this peevish fretful manner,

this uncertainty, this fear,

this fear.

Come and lie down. It’s getting dark.

© Edward Picot

 

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