Competition | 11 April 2009

In Competition No. 2590 you were invited to submit a poem in praise of a form of asceticism. But first, a revision to the brief for last week’s competition no. 2592. I meant to ask for a poem in which each line contains an anagram of the name of a well-known poet. It would be unfair on those brave souls who have already entered to change the comp completely, so instead it will be split into two categories, with three winners in each. Those who wish to stick to the original brief may do so (but beware: one veteran competitor’s entry was accompanied by a note describing the experience as ‘nightmarish’, and there is a discussion thread in cyberspace entitled ‘Speccie Anagram Hell’). Those who prefer a gentler ride and opt for the revised brief should underline/italicise the anagram in each line. In both cases, please provide a list of the poets whose names you are scrambling.

Which cock-up on my part leaves space for only a general congratulation for a stellar performance this week. You hung out your hair shirts with the usual skill and wit, shunning pies and beer, TV, sex and saturated fat. The winners are printed below and get £30 each except Martin Parker who gets £35.

The Cynic, Diogenes, risking two dodgy knees,
tucked himself into a barrel
where he spent all his days in the simplest of
    ways
and scorned even basic apparel.

Would-be Cynics said, ‘Mate, the philosophy’s
    great
and the minimalism’s inviting.
But we really can’t do it. We’ll have to eschew it
since the lifestyle looks less than exciting.’

Now, it may be pathetic to be an ascetic
who cynically doubts all sincerity
to such a degree that all that folks see
is your penchant for heartless asperity,

but I praise the old boy for his cynical ploy
in suggesting all pleasure’s a bore;
and his name lives today for the memorable way
he tried to show less can be more.