One of our challenges was to write a poem about Starcraft. Upon submitting a poem, we were told by tnkted, one of the poetry judges, that he was "actually editing all of your poems in a professional academic way, the same way that I would edit poems I have to read for class. So even if you guys don't win, you'll get an a published poet's analysis of your work! Everybody wins!" to which my immediate thought was "oh shit, I'm going to get pulverized."
Anyhow, below is my poem with italicized comments by the judges:
Rage Quit
The battlefield is virtual,
But the rivalry is real.
Damn straight, it is real—
Anger bubbling to the surface;
Overwhelming, growing
Bigger
Bigger
Bigger
A bubble of rage about to burst,
Vision clouded in red haze.
Fury—seething
Madness—brewing
Dignity—
Where is his dignity?
Judge 1: We are presented very early with this poem with clear erectile imagery (bigger, bigger, bigger, “about to burst,” etc). However, the immediate sense of rage that the author effectively forms seems defensive somehow.
Judge 2: The author addresses this rage with a shocking familiarity and casualness. In this first opening we are forced to confront the fact that the author is one of those ragers on the ladder who lift their buildings and float them to the corners, message you after the game and call you dispicable names when you beat them, and are general douchebags.
Flagrant insults about his mother; his beliefs; his lifestyle choices
Unforgivable assumptions about his sexuality
It would be settled with this.
A “grudge match,” a “personal war”
Terms too mild for what was to ensue.
A sweaty palm clutching the mouse, a clenched jaw
Eyes narrowed and focused, attention paramount to none
Holding his breath at the 5, 4, 3, 2,
One.
Judge 1: More evidence of tension. Given the erectile imagery in the previous section we can assume that the “grudge match” is sexual intercourse.
Judge 2: Again, the author is casual and familiar with these instances of rage confirming what we already knew about his nature, the author is a raging ladderdouche.
Clicking furiously, not a single misstep, perfect execution!
If they thought even for a second that they could break him down
If they dared to even think that he lacked—
In the midst of his manic glee, a sea of zerlings!
It was too soon, too early; he was not ready!
The bitter taste of defeat in his mouth
And lo! the words appear... an offensive "gg."
Cheeks flushed with anger and humiliation, hands trembling with rage, he hits:
Alt-F4.
Judge 1: Ah. It is at the end here that we are explained what the source of the rage in the first stanza was. Our narrator feels extremely inadequate with the size of his penis. Despite the erotic nature of the previous stanza, our narrator is unable to impress his ‘opponent.’ He can ‘click furiously’ all he wants, but it is not enough. Then, embarrassingly, his stamina fails him; the ‘zerglings’ come ‘too early.’
Judge 2: For a surprisingly candid amount of honesty, tempered by the clear immaturity of the author, I give this poem a 6/10.
Here we have confirmation of our earlier assumption. The author rage quits when he does not win a grudge match. Why is he in the grudge match in the first place? Because his BM attitude pissed someone off who then handed him his ass and he wasn’t a gentleman enough to say GG. The tragedy of people like this is that it’ll happen again and they’ll never learn. 3/10
Why are TLers so damn clever?! I thought the judges did a fabulous job with their comments -- they could not have done a better job or interpreted it more correctly!!!1231
In any case, thanks for reading -- I hope it was at least somewhat amusing! I know my poem sucks, but some of the other participants wrote some awesome Starcraft poetry, which I'd love to include in a spoiler if I had their permission!