Monday, November 12, 2007

I won! I won! (The last word)

I really didn’t intend to have a Part 3 to this post, but I just got another Email from my friends at Poetry.com and the International Society of Poets. I guess they didn’t get my Email explaining that I don’t really intend to let them publish my poem.

Actually, I got two Emails, one apologizing for being unable to process my application for membership in the International Society of Poets because their server was down. Maybe I should tell them that I never returned their application, so it didn’t matter a rats ass if their server was down or not.

The other was a “suggestion” that I invite family and friends to visit Poetry.com and review my poem. They obviously didn’t think a poet of my artistic vision was capable of composing my own Email, so they took the liberty of writing one for me. Just fill in the Email addresses of the family and friends I want to send it to and click the little button. The Email appears below.

Dear Family and Friends,
I am in the middle of a great online poetry competition. I have the chance to win some great prizes, including an iPod. I really want to win, and all I need are votes from my family and friends. You simply need to click on a link, read my poem, and rate it. If I get enough votes, I win, it’s that easy! Please use the link below to vote for my poem, “States of Being.” Please forward this to anyone else you know that could help me out. You can also use the link below on your Facebook or MySpace page to help me receive even more votes. This is a great way to help me share my poetry with the world!
Thanks very much for your vote. I will keep you posted if I win. Wish me luck!
Best regards, Matt Todd

You will note that the link does not appear in this post. Just in case anyone amongst my family or friends might be tempted by the nonsense these people are sending out. And the Email now resides in the isolation room of my virus protection application; can’t be too careful with this stuff.

Apparently there’s a few more individuals out there who have decided to have a little fun with Poetry.com. Somewhere out there in cyber space, is a guy named David Taub, a real life poet, who writes: failure is impossible at poetry.com, the website where every poem is a semifinalist. This guy tried, unsuccessfully, to get a rejection slip from the company. I reprint one of his submissions under the “fair use” provisions of Canada’s copyright laws. It was submitted under the name “Wadda Ass Iyam” and the poem is entitled “Yer Gotta Larf”.

Yew gotta larf at any moreon
who could write, "your poem was selected
for publication, and as a contest semi-finalist, on the basis of your unique talent
and artistic vision."
when we all know this is about as artistic
as vomitting on the neigbour's porch.
Burp... huey... excuse me while I be artistic on your cat. so much for
the vision . . . I never saw your cat.
Now let's get down to the real truth.
You hope I am fooled into parting with
my cash to see this in your anthology.
Wot if NO-ONE bought your books, mugs
plaques, keyrings? (have you thought of musical toilet-roll holders?)
I look forward to receiving your standard letter telling me how artistic this drivel is. If nothing else, I get a free envelope
which I can recycle.

Uh-huh, you guessed it; the damn thing won the “Editor’s Choice” award and was selected as a semi-finalist.

But, for every guy like David Taub or myself, looking to have some fun with this silliness, there are thousands of people out there getting hurt, emotionally and financially by this bunch of rip off artists. They prey on the dreams, vanity and gullibility of would be poets by using flattery and by dangling the (faint) hope of winning cash and/or prizes.

Poetry.com is also known by the following names: International Library of Poetry, National Library of Poetry, Watermark Press and the International Society of Poets. They also run a sister site for “photographers”, along with a photography contest. The site is called picture.com.

Stay away from these assholes. They’re a joke, even if they can’t recognize
one.

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