Magazine De-clutter – giveaway and contest

In an effort to try and regain something resembling control of my life, I’ve decided to get rid of some of the literary magazines that I’ve subscribed to in the past. So this is your chance to snaffle a selection of literary periodicals, of varying age and origin. There are a lot of them, so I’m going to be giving some away every week or two for the next little while.

Up for grabs today are the following UK mags:

and one from Australia:

  • Island 84  (Spring/Summer 2000 – 2001).

For this first giveaway, we’ll have a small competition. Write a limerick OR cinquain OR other five line poem that in some way uses the phrase “comfortable trousers”. (Believe it or not, I picked it at random from a poem in one of the mags.) At this stage I’m restricting things to within NZ only – postage for this little stash would otherwise be unpleasantly high.

Post your entry in the comments section, and a winner will be selected on the morning of Friday April 8th.
Have fun!

 

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17 thoughts on “Magazine De-clutter – giveaway and contest

  1. Elevated Comfort

    Two buskers performing on stilts,
    Perceived they were starting to wilt.
    They searched their web browers
    For comfortable trousers,
    Then breezily settled for kilts.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  2. Natural Remedy

    Not featured at Paris, New York or Milan
    As a mark of particular wealth
    It’s “comfortable trousers”
    The doctors prescribe
    To foster testicular health.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  3. March Night
    Apologies to Adelaide Crapsey

    Autumn…
    With wind all round,
    Like comfortable pants,
    The leaves, red-tipped, undo their belts
    And fall.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

    • Ooh, nice. Although technically, as you’ve wussed out on “trousers” and gone with the less syllabically-challenging “pants”, you haven’t completely filled the brief

      … I don’t believe I just typed that …

  4. Oops! Subconscious Kiwi vernacular wants to wear the pants! I intended “trousers” all along to fulfill the syllable and stress count. Here’s the correct version:

    March Night
    Apologies to Adelaide Crapsey

    Autumn…
    With wind all round,
    Like comfortable trousers,
    The leaves, red-tipped, undo their belts
    And fall.

    Greg O’Connell 2011

  5. Tight Moves

    They garner applause and full houses,
    Those male ballet dancers, but “Yowsers!”
    You’d think that they might
    Abandon the tights
    And prance in more comfortable trousers!

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  6. Not Hot

    Accountants in comfortable trousers,
    Teachers in sensible blouses;
    May well have appeal,
    For prudence and zeal,
    But fizzle as passion-arousers.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  7. Too Close for Comfort

    Despite what the tailor espouses,
    On the matter of comfortable trousers;
    If you’ve invested,
    In something infested,
    There’s nothing more snug than the louse is.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  8. The Enlightened Path

    This life,
    a soul journey.
    Now, the enlightened path.
    The Zen of Comfortable Trousers,
    our strides.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

    • Greg, I don’t know if I should give you a high five or just run away very fast. You have certainly embraced the notion of comfortable trousers, and with considerable gusto.
      Come on, the rest of you! At least one other person should come up with something as a challenge to Greg’s mastery! Ian? Catherine? Mum?

  9. Inuit Couples

    With naturally comfortable houses,
    And organically comfortable trousers;
    Thanks to seal blubber,
    They make for each other,
    Agreeably comfortable spouses.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  10. Pan

    The god of the fields and the bowers is
    Famed for the way he carouses;
    With the horns of a goat,
    Piping his notes,
    In suggestively comfortable trousers.

    Greg O’Connell © 2011

  11. To The Comfortable Trouser Balladeer

    While all of us wowsers look on
    Twice a day he writes a new song.
    On the subject of comfortable trousers
    He has become expert
    As I run out of time
    With doggerel that doesn’t even rhyme.

    Benita Kape (c) 2011

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