This is a Contest ... and a very serious one at that.

A bit of history. I recently published a post, 10 Random Things About Me ... French Foreign Legion, Fatherhood & Flatulence (give it a read, it's funny). In it, I mentioned that I have no sense of smell. I also included the next bit in an attempt to be humorous:

Alas, I am undoubtedly the only poet in history who has never been moved to muse by the fragrance of a rose. Of course, I'm probably the only poet in history who has never experienced the fragrance of a fart ... although, I have noticed, that these are only rarely the subject of poetic renderings.

This strikes me as being an artistic oversight, especially considering the sheer banality of much of modern-day poetry. The Fartphobia of the olfactory-privileged. And so, I've decided (right here and now) to make Flatulence the writing prompt for an upcoming Poetry Challenge.

I WILL NEED Sponsors.

I wasn't being serious.

I have a good friend in Australia, @girlbeforemirror, who I've been mentoring in poetry. Her name is Marg, she's a spectacularly talented writer and poet ... and she's bloody cheeky. Marg immediately called my bluff and sent 10 SBD in Prize Money ... and then announced publicly that she'd done so.

Damn.

Male egos being what they are, I couldn't let the woman have the last laugh, and so, I decided to counter-call her bluff ... and actually do it: Create a Contest about Farts and Farting. And hence ... this Contest.

Poets are a haughty and snotty lot. Some of us (not me) may pretend to be nice, but the truth is we look down upon all you commoners who can neither read nor write in anything other than the most simplistic of prose. And, part of the whole haughty snotty thing is never explaining the poem. If you can't figure it out on your own, then you don't deserve to know.

This attitude may well explain the whole 'starving poet' phenomenon.

In this particular instance, though, I'm going to make an exception to the rule. At the end of this post, I will explain the poem. But no cheating: Read the post from beginning to end and in the order I've laid out ... it's important.

The Contest ... What To Do

Recite the poem, "S-B-D," on video.

Post your video on your own blog BUT ALSO in the comments section of this Contest Post (not links, the video itself). You DO NOT have to be sober while reciting. Indeed, I encourage you to get liquored up. This is a poem about farts and farting ... so let's not pretend it's Shakespeare.

The video can be of you reciting the poem, or, you can employ other visuals with a voice layover. You can use background music if you like, or not. I have no preference, just be creative ... and have a good time.

Prize

The Prize will be, MINIMALLY, 25 SBD, provided by @girlbeforemirror and myself.

What I'd really like is to bump it up to 100 SBD but this will require additional Sponsors.

If you are interested in becoming such an additional Sponsor, bless your heart. Send me a DM and a wallet transfer. I will edit this Contest Post and prominently include you as a Sponsor, and, you will be listed as a Sponsor on a second Contest Winner's Post at the end of the Contest. I reserve the right to decline certain users from Sponsorship at my discretion.

The Rules

Participants will ReSteem this Contest Post and agree to ReSteem the Contest Winner's Post and the end of the Contest.

Participants will upvote this Contest Post, and agree to upvote the subsequent Contest Winner's Post, at 100% Upvoting Power.

Entries will be accepted until Post Payout on this Contest Post.

Participants agree that their videos, winning or not, may be included in the Winner's Contest Post, and/or any other post, at QuillFire's discretion.

OK, that's it. Here's the poem, first as an image and then in text:

S-B-D

Think not that it strange, some words we derange,
Torture what once did impart,
Too words, they disgraced; as if they unchaste,
Such word, I’d argue … is ‘Fart.’

It’s strange but it’s true, we launched it a coup
Mutiny, rebellion, revolt,
The king we deposed, new words we composed,
As ‘Fart,’ we sought to demote.

We began to Pass Gas, out through it our ass,
Began, to Cut it the Cheese,
Began to Break Wind, as other’s chagrined,
For blowing ... a Backdoor Breeze.

We’ve replacements galore, like the Ol’ Rump Roar,
Butt Yodeling, for those in the know,
Bend from the knees, for a good Butt Sneeze,
The gift’s in the giving, bestow.

You Toot Your Own Horn, though never forewarn,
You blast your Buttock Bassoon,
Your O-Ring Oboe, it has a good go,
Artisté, you carry a tune.

But what of old friends, on those we depend,
Old friends … no better than Fart,
Seductress, a vamp; you’re off with your tramp,
While breaking … your old friend’s heart.

In place of a mystery, with Fart you’ve a history,
With Fart, you know what you get,
It’s easy to spell … and easy to smell,
And works, when even it’s wet.

Remember, recall; when once you were small,
The fun you had with your Farts,
You called them by name as played you your game,
Before … you learned of upstarts.

But now you are old, and soul you have sold,
Now, you’ve much you desired,
Behave as you ought, forgot how you fought,
By what … you once were inspired.

From whence came the flame that brought you acclaim,
From whence, did come it the spark,
Where found you your brawn, to fight carry on,
Imprint, that left it it’s mark?

Not all do agree, what means S-B-D,
Acronym … what was it, the source?
@ned, he’s a coder … cheese pizzas, an odor,
… Silent But Deadly, of course.

So do what you will … but I have a Quill,
And stand, I will for my friend,
I’ll draw it my sword, and fight it the horde,
Though lone, I stand at the end.

Interpretation

Go back and re-read the poem ... but this time, replace 'Fart' with 'Steemit.' All those other names for farting are metaphors for other crypto-based social media platforms: Minds.com; WEKU; Narrative, etc.

No one has been more critical of STEEM/Steemit Whales and Witnesses than I have. I have written numerous articles and God-only-knows how many comments and replies on the subject: The systemic cheating, game-rigging and self-dealing that they, out of self-interest, refuse to correct. I will include a list of articles at the end of this post.

But it's not just them, is it?

Cryptocurrencies are in a bear market. STEEM is struggling to stay above $0.30 and has now dropped out of the Top 50 cryptocurrencies by Market Cap. What are you doing in response?

You've stopped posting because the payouts aren't large enough. Perhaps you're creating 3-4 crappy posts per day in an effort to trigger the auto-upvoting-bots that follow your account. Despite the low price of SP, you're not maximally powering-up post payouts. You delegate whatever SP you possess to every game-rigging mechanism that the game riggers can concoct, but not a cent to supporting Great Content Creators or Great Manual Curators. You open one account after another on competing crypto-based social media platforms, hedging your bets by playing the field.

What you won't do is fight for Steemit. You'll whine and complain, bellyache and blame ... but you won't even try to do anything constructive. You're OK with anything ... so long as it costs you nothing. You'll pay no price, make no sacrifice.

Would you even recite this poem? It's a silly poem, but it's fun and, in the depths of depression and despair, a little bit of levity can go a long way. It would require no skill and very little effort and, the silliness aside, it's a very good poem - remember that haughty snotty thing ... I don't write crap. Would you sponsor this Contest, or any contest ... for even 1 SBD? Would you ReSteem? Or is this, too, too much to ask?

Scroll though my posts of the past couple of months. How long do you think it took to create any one of them? Now take a look at the post payouts. Do you think I'm happy with the reward-for-effort ratio? But I'm still fighting for Steemit, in whatever ways that I can, for long before I was a poet ... I was a soldier. And, if there's one insight I understand better than all others, it is that: "That for which no one is willing to fight ... dies."

So do what you will … but I have a Quill,
And stand, I will for my friend,
I’ll draw it my sword, and fight it the horde,
Though lone, I stand at the end.

Quill

https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmbF7nDLNqTMWuKzLHWbZwpG9AGSkQeeefnJ9inRTZUzLf/text11.png

The Articles About Reforming Steemit:

And the Nuclear Bombs:

Contest Sponsors

I would like to thank the following Sponsors who generously donated SBD to make this Contest possible:

@girlbeforemirror ... 10 SBD (Great writer/poet)

@quillfire ... 15 SBD (Shakespeare wanna-be)

@fionasfavourites ... 1 SBD (Persuadable girl and astonishing chef)

@hlezama ... 1 STEEM (Best Literary Critic on the blockchain)

If you'd like to become a Sponsor, please DM me on Discord. Thank you.

You guys know the drill. Be verbose ... but articulate.

And remember ...

Go Love A Starving Poet

For God's sake ... they're starving!