The entry numbers were staggering—68 syllables staggering.
With so many entries it was, truly, hard to decide tis years winner of the second annual International Stout Day Haiku Contest. Alan came out strong with this beaut:
Stout: once craft's focus.
But roasted bite ain't a hop.
Tear drops on cream heads.
Derrick, the Beer Runner expounded on Guinness:
My first Guinness was
like mud, only then I was
just eight at the time
Engine oil colour
chilli, oatmeal, chocolate
brewdog up to ten
The bottle's last drop
like a black gold tear it falls
perfection acheived
With so many entries it was, truly, hard to decide tis years winner of the second annual International Stout Day Haiku Contest. Alan came out strong with this beaut:
Stout: once craft's focus.
But roasted bite ain't a hop.
Tear drops on cream heads.
Derrick, the Beer Runner expounded on Guinness:
My first Guinness was
like mud, only then I was
just eight at the time
However, once again arn of Blood, Stout and Tears has run away with. It's not so much the quality of arn's haiku, but the shear volume of it—two poems for the price of one. He is like the Stephen King of beer-related, Japanese-inspired poetry. If that's not a talent and a niche market, I don't know what is. Here's what he brought to the table:
chilli, oatmeal, chocolate
brewdog up to ten
The bottle's last drop
like a black gold tear it falls
perfection acheived
In conclusion, arn, upholding his title as drinkdrank's official poet laureate (is poet laureate a defensible title?) has won the day! Congrats arn, please continuing rhyming and stealing (is that what the kids are saying today?) I'll contact you about your fabulous prize (it's not cash).
For the rest of you—remember the International Session Beer Day Haiku Contest is just around the corner!
FIX!!!
ReplyDeleteWait a sec—did you just accuse me of fixing this contest because you, yourself, were accused of fixing a contest?
DeleteThat's brilliant man—absolutely brilliant—I'm jealous I didn't think of it first.
I can't be expected to explain my art.
ReplyDeleteFrom across the sea
ReplyDeletethanks and a raised glass of beer
the wife rolls her eyes!
she'll never understand.
Cheers mate!
See... SEE! That's why Arn's the poet laureate!
ReplyDelete