Poetry contest, shmoetry contest!

When I was in high school I came across an ad for a poetry contest in a magazine. I entered it with a decent poem called "Desktop Art." They responded with a flowery letter of praise, saying they wished to publish my poem in an upcoming anthology, and that I could buy the book if I wished to for a special discounted price. The fact that they were trying to sell me something right off and the fact that the whole letter read sort of like an advertisement made warning bells go off in my head. Regardless, I signed the author's release and let them have my poem.

They replied with yet another ad for the book, claiming it made a "great gift," and an author's proof to make sure everything was the way I wanted it. They also asked my permission to record my poem onto a tape called "The Sound of Poetry," saying only certain poems that lent themselves to being read aloud were chosen for this collection. I agreed to let them do that too, but I never ordered any of the books, the tapes, or paid for having any of my biographical information added to the poem. I never heard about the book again, never actually saw a copy.

Years down the road I heard tell of another poetry contest, and since I didn't know it was a contest sponsored by THEM, I entered it. They replied with the same sorts of mail I remembered from my high school days. They're still at it, trying to get my money, I thought. I had to wonder if it was legit, because the poem I sent them really wasn't that great, and certainly wasn't worth all the praise they spilled all over it. It was again selected for "The Sound of Poetry," and this time I did not send in my release, because I had no desire to be published by them, if what they do even counts as publishing. They bugged me with poetry junk mail for a while, telling me they couldn't publish my poem without my release, oh no, what a loss to the world . . . but I didn't send it. End of that.

And somewhat recently, I was invited by e-mail to enter another contest. It had a Web address that DIDN'T say anything about the National Library of Poetry, but it ended up being them, and I got tricked into entering. I decided not to back out because it was supposedly supported by Montel Williams (that's a story I hadn't seen in the previous ones) and he was giving money to a good cause for every entry, something like that, so I figured what the hell. They sent me junk mail again. I wouldn't sign the release this time either.

Then they sent me some invitation to a poetry ball or something, with all the entrants being invited to come compete for a prize and be honored and all this other shit, asking for positively a *buttload* of money for the trip. Yeah, right. Like my poem is worth that. I didn't fall for it.

What pisses me off about the whole thing is that there *are* people falling for it, and poor idealistic poets are being told their stuff is good when they just want your money. How do I know it's not a legit contest, you ask? Maybe I'm just really good, right? Maybe I just happen to have written great poems and been selected for special honors all three times I entered, right? Wrong. I submit, for your approval, an excerpt from Letters from a Nut. Allow me to explain. Letters from a Nut is this cool series of books by Ted L. Nancy, and they are collections of bizarre letters someone has written and sent to corporations, hotels, celebrities, what have you. He actually receives replies to a frightening number of his bizarre queries. Anyway, HE entered one of the contests for the National Library of Poetry. I hope that the owners of the copyright on Letters from a Nut will forgive me for reprinting his poems to help prove my point; here is his first entry.

"My Hate for Poetry Contests"

Oh how I hate poetry contests
They disgust me no end
Those wretched poetry contests
I enter again and again
Oh how I hate poetry contests
I know I'll never win
But I know I must send
My poem in again
And try once more to do this
Hello Darkness my old friend.

Their reply? The exact letter I received. Oh, Mr. Nancy, you are so talented, won't you grant us the privilege of publishing your unique poem? And we don't ask everyone this, but would you like to be on "The Sound of Poetry"? Your poem has a unique flavor that lends itself well to being read aloud . . . BLAH BLAH BLAH! What the hell? Well, on his author's proof, he's decided to revise the poem. Here is his revised version, even more obvious.

"Why I Really Hate Poetry Contests"

Oh how I really hate poetry contests
They keep sending you crap through the mail
Oh I can't stand to receive junk from poetry contests anymore
They turn my stomach no end
Oh these stupid poetry contests
They just want you to buy their book
I have to make a doody now
Hello darkness my old friend
I am the poetry man
I just want to go to the trash and chuck it
There was an old lady from Nantucket
I am so sick of poetry contests
You have no idea
I can rhyme orange
If I use car hinge

Their response mail didn't give any indication that they'd noticed Mr. Nancy's poem was a complete crock. Someone had to have typed that sucker in . . . what is wrong with these people? Have they no shame? This is proof that THEY WILL PUBLISH ANYTHING as long as it is not longer than twenty lines. Such unique talent we have, we poets of the National Library of Poetry anthologies . . . such creativity, such craftsmanship . . . such bullshit! As if that wasn't enough, Mr. Nancy revised his poem one more time:

"Why I'm Going to Jump Off a 30-story Building Because of Your Poetry Contests"

Oh I'm going to jump off a building because of your poetry contest
I can't take any more of your mail to me
Oh I shake every time your junk comes to my door
I'm going to throw myself off a big building
Down Down Down
Down to the floor
Because of you
I will jump. This is the end
I will splatter all over like a cream pie
Then it will surely be
Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Mr. Nancy, wouldn't you love to order a special plaque with your *beautiful* poem printed on it? It'll only cost you your life's savings and your firstborn child, but isn't it worth it to have this lovely artifact displaying your poetic talent? I ASK YOU!!! Why the HELL is this legal anyway? And why am I pissed off since I never fell for it? Because they're doing the writing equivalent of raping idealistic poets, that's why. It disgusts me. Don't get me wrong, no one is forcing these people to pay . . . they are simply led to believe that they were *chosen* because they actually did something good, and given false feelings of pride in their work, when actually no one at the National Library of Poetry gives two shits about their work, and neither does anyone else. Who *does* win the prizes, anyway? Probably the person who buys the most crap. Congratulations, guys--they paid you back for the plaque you bought and the half dozen books you ordered to give out as proof that you don't suck. WHATEVER. Someone shut me up, I'm too annoyed.