Spud
Poets Application Form
The Spud Poets Award is being held for the fourth time at the Lake
School in 2009.
The three previous winners were Chris Healy with Mas-cav-enger in 2006, Harry Reed with Spud Train in 2007 and Francis Duggan with Old Casey in 2009. This year no prior application form will be necesary. Enrolled Lake School students simply bring their poem or poems along to the Koroit Country Bakehouse for a 9pm start on Wenesday January 7 2009. Each poem has an entry fee of $10 and application forms will be available on the night. The rules are that each poem must have an optimum word count of 300 words or less and have a celtic connection in topic, theme or style. The judges ruling will be final and all contestants are bound to accept the judges ruling in good humour and with good sportsmanship.
The Lake School wishes to thank Bill Clohesy for providing the trophy which lists the names of the winners and is kept at Micky Bourke's Hotel, Koroit.
Winning prizemoney $1000
The Spud Poets Award is sponsored by Ausmed Publications
NB In 2009 only enrolled Lake School students can enter for the Spud Poets Award
The Spud Poets Award was inspired by a poem written by local legend and Koroit born, May Fiorini-Lowell who read the poem at the Lake School Launch in July 2004.
A photo of Mary reading her poem and a copy of the text are below.
The Humble Spud
Mary Fiorini-Lowell © 2002
Shaped like a gold nugget The men who first dug it Cried out "Eureka" - its gold we have found But it was a spud come fresh from the ground A spud of humility And abounding utility So full of surprises - one hardly surmises To know all the ways that a spud can be praised So unique in design, so delicious with wine So heavenly roasted, no wonder its boasted That a spud is a treasure of price beyond measure Be it oblong or round, when dug from the ground Coming clean, or with mud Such a shape has the spud, that they say That's why God hid the spud in the sod For man designs war tanks, and bridges and banks And planes and fast cars (He can fly through the stars) But with all his power He can't make the flower Or the little white bud That grows from the spud And the food it provides For the hungry world-wide For the rich and the poor (Kings and Popes to be sure have praised it in prayer) Great songs have been sung in every known tongue The spud has saved nations That's why celebrations, in wartime and peace For the spud never cease O the stories in books which tell of the cooks Throughout all the ages Writ by poets and sages From the Tower of Babel That when brought to the table The spud should be carried Like a bride to be married Of the greatest renown, most deserving a crown Is the much loved magnificent, illustrious splendiferous For all that it di' fer us Lets praise with glad voices, the Spud Spud Poets Application Form