THE winner of Radio Warrington’s third annual poetry competition has been announced.
Ann Wood, from Warrington, was awarded the top prize for her poem ‘Confessions of an Ageing Rock Chick’.
The competition received almost a hundred entries, some from as far away as Nigeria, but Ann’s poem proved the most popular with the judging panel of Andy Green and Brian Spooner, presenters of Radio Warrington’s Culture Show, and local poets Stan Smith, Yvonne Mattocks and Helen Kay.
Commented head judge Stan Smith, Professor Emeritus in English at Nottingham Trent University: “I particularly liked the vibes and vivacity of Ann’s poem with its shrewd self-awareness and capture of the external scene.”
Ann was delighted to be selected as the overall winner: “I love attending live gigs and ‘Confessions’ was part inspired by my experiences at wonderful events like the town’s Neighbourhood Weekender festival. Since September I have been to around 15 gigs and for my poem to be recognised in such a way is a real honour.”
The competition’s runners-up were ‘The Ticking of the Clock’ by Mave Donelan in fourth place, ‘The Stone’ by Jason Twell in third place and ‘News of a Migrant Father’ by Ojo Taiye in second place.
Ann was awarded a £50 cash prize courtesy of Radio Warrington and a £25 gift voucher to spend at the Institution Bar in Palmyra Square. She was also invited to perform her poem live on air.
Radio Warrington is a not-for-profit community radio station broadcasting 24 hours a day from Warrington Market on 1332AM, online at www.radiowarrington.co.uk, on App and on Smart Speaker.
Ann’s winning poem, ‘Confessions of an Ageing Rock Chick’, is below:-
The young are well adapted
For music fests outdoors
Energetic, fearless
Exquisite song recall
Oozing self-expression
Sex, drugs and rock and roll
Dancing, drinking, queuing
Enduring bladder controlI, was once the same as them
Crushed in the mosh and chanting
Perched on shoulders, holding forth
Shouting More! Left wanting
Imbibing booze, donning merch
Hands held aloft while singing
Then heading home, euphoric
With my ears still ringingI spy those lucky youngsters
with envy and despair
As I waft away the smoke from weed
Vapes and coloured flares
Dodging liquid-laden missiles
and clouds of dodgy fumes
I hope I’m avoiding covid
in airborne drops of doomMy sternum throbs with rhythm
Absorbing drum and bass
My skeleton now is not so hot
At standing in one place
Spine and feet soon start to fret
They’re ganging up on me
Goading me to just sit down
And have a cup of teaMy thoughts are interrupted
As a bloke swerves into view
I’m braced for sexist comments
He comes in right on cue
He claims I do not know the songs
Or bands He’s come to see
He doesn’t know that I have been
To far more gigs than heI simply love to stand transfixed
Absorbing vibes and chords
Who cares if I’m not there to dance
Or remember all the words?
My memory’s shot from passwords, PINs
And cognitive detritus
My ears are plugged so deeply
To limit gig-induced tinn-i-tusSo at my age, I’ve wisdom and
The means to buy the tickets
But don’t ask me to remember
Band members’ names or lyrics
Instead I’m content, to just blend in
View life through a concave lens
And be thankful that I make it home
Safely, at the end
