|
IBPC Winning Poems, 2009, Congratulations Poets! |
|
|
|
Feb 12 09, 10:01
|
Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
|
First Place New Neighbors by Eric Rhohenstein criticalpoet.org
Yellow jackets ascend like mortar fire from the cherry’s split trunk.
Spikes of fennel rise in the side yard, where the garden was before the old man died; his grandson somersaults through a choke of new clover.
The day is dry; I should be cutting lawn. squirrel at the birdfeeder ground-skirt of grackles the village the village! fire alarm hum crescendo, and again Much like autumn wind: product of a gavel falling.
(Soon enough, the cherry’s branches set against a winter skin of sky)
Boy, do you hear the pop songs aging, aging from kitchen windows?
(Across Erie, the edge of Canada erupting from spring lake-mist)
Some things are broken before they’re ever bent, but only some.
(One day, the summery inside of a woman) hay-rolls at the velvet edge of vision sunrise sunset and how it goes, and how it went. As if this was the start of anything; it’s only a lion’s mouth grown wider, wider, roaring.
Much like your mother’s: the logic of donning play-clothes, of not missing dinner. farmers’ daughters fatten up we sons of nothing much the village cream is drawn cup by cup make whey! make whey! Afternoon dogs sing the pressure of dawn.
"New Neighbors" ignites a fresh, sensory motion forward. At "the edge of vision" the poem revitalizes literal vision alongside the figurative vision of the mind's eye, "how it goes." Language in motion becomes a key process of seeing through an ever-changing domino-effect of metaphor: yellow jackets ascend, a grandson somersaults--crescendo, autumn wind, gavel falling and so on, until the poem reaches the marvelously mundane-sublime place where "dogs sing the pressure of dawn." --Elena Karina Byrne
Second Place First Frost by Christopher T. George FreeWrights Peer Review
A last ochre magnolia leaf twitches like the index finger of a dying man;
under the ginkgo, yellow leaves spread & all the birds are in motion, swooping,
diving: robins, starlings, cardinals, a brace of cheeky blue jays—o one vaults
into the magnolia like a trapeze artiste and devours a bud.
"First Frost" is a Buddhist-like, automatopoetic polaroid view of nature, targeting our vulnerability of perennial-impermanence where a magnolia leaf "twitches like the index finger of a dying man." The use of assonance and subtle end rhyme keep the poem beautifully close-fisted, bud-like, ready to be devoured. --Elena Karina Byrne
Third Place Dinner With the Ghost of Rilke by Laurie Byro Desert Moon Review
Come here, to the candlelight. I’m not afraid to look on the dead. I was confused by snakes looping around your neck, the little girl voice that you had to swallow in order to please your mother. I told you as you twirled a red flag to draw away the slathering
wolves that you would never disappoint me. The crumbling bridge where we said our goodbyes all those years ago must even now contain the echoes of our voices sleeping in its seams.
How many inexhaustible nights did I stay awake to answer your letters? You asked me to steal something risky, something I couldn’t take back across the street.
Greedy for praise I filled my pockets with sugar. Outside the café the night becomes a snow globe. Held in your gaze, winter takes me back.
"Come here" the beginning of "Dinner With the Ghost of Rilke" commands. Because of the strength of diction, we follow this instruction and immediately become participatory, complicit observers. Rilke's "necessary irrepressible... definitive utterance" colors the voice that is swallowed, a presence, nevertheless, heavy as two pockets full of sugar. --Elena Karina Byrne
Honorable Mentions Taste Buds of Children and Mock Adults by Thane Zander Blueline
We bleed on pavements decorated in childish flowers, discharge our vehemence in toilet bowls swallowing large tracts of shit, shyte, shovel it out and spread onto a garden decorated with summers hues,
placate the dandelion as it swims aloft on wispy winds, seeking Monarch Butterflies to caress in death throes, excrete your discontentment on the laps of executives when the family savings invested in stocks, tumble
like a dryer on spin cycle, the cold cycle reserved for her husbands dying corduroys, the colour sticking to off white socks and travel brochures from a back pocket, ready to fly first class with crumpled shirts and dungarees
wearing thin around the butt, years of sitting at a computer and conversing to faceless names, except the ones that lie when they post an avatar of indifference and cheek, swallow the last Rhubarb sandwich on a plate filled with regret and woes
leftover like a dying man's left testicle after an operation to cure the cancer of his family passed down to him, his brother long dead and buried in another garden setting, flowers in pots and agee jars no lid required, the dried arrangement last longer in summer's sun,
We eat curdled milk, drink dipped honey crusties, pass the jam so youngun's can leave a bloody trail on the white tablecloth, and the ants and bees can leave a tell tale sign of their visit,
my wife said she could smell ants, me; I avoid bees like the plague.
Talking Terror by Sachi Nag The Writer's Block
On our way to Fundy City in ten inches of snow, a familiar cab driver asked me if I lost anyone in those sixty hours of Mumbai.
We couldn’t take our eyes off the Christmas lights, and the carols on the airwaves, so haunting, we were feeling kinship in the gravy of victimhood,
when the hardened ice beneath the slush stunned the front tyres, and we skidded rear-ending a parked van and spun over the edge into a pile of snow
from last year. Strangers stopped by with shovels and hooks, powering us out. We dusted jackets, shook hands; restarted, slow, almost like roadkill,
eyes riveted along the routine way - now as sinuous as a strange white feathered boa - the cabbie's sure hands shaking at the wheel.
······· ·······
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
|
|
|
|
Posts in this topic
Cleo_Serapis IBPC Winning Poems, 2009 Feb 12 09, 10:01 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for February 2009
Judge Elena Karina... Mar 21 09, 07:30 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for March 2009
Judge Elena Karina By... Apr 4 09, 08:35 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for April 2009
Judge Duncan Mercredi... May 6 09, 16:42 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for May 2009
Judge Duncan Mercredi
... Jun 7 09, 16:21 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for June 2009
Judge Duncan Mercredi ... Jul 6 09, 17:42 Cleo_Serapis Oh WOW!
Even though I'm on vacation thi... Aug 12 09, 15:15 Peterpan Congratulations Honourable Mentions!!... Aug 13 09, 09:01 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for July 2009
Judge George Szirtes
C... Aug 17 09, 19:14 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for August 2009
Judge George Szirtes... Sep 12 09, 18:36 Cleo_Serapis September's winners have been announced - I... Oct 7 09, 11:21 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for September 2009
Judge George Szir... Oct 9 09, 18:08 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for October 2009
Judge Majid Naficy
... Oct 20 09, 19:23 Peterpan Hello Wally and Cleo!
Is this the first time ... Oct 22 09, 04:11 Cleo_Serapis Hi Bev,
No - actually Eric (Merlin) placed secon... Oct 22 09, 05:50 Peterpan Thanks Cleo!
You must be very proud!
Bev Oct 22 09, 06:06 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for November 2009
Judge Majid Naficy... Nov 24 09, 22:30 Cleo_Serapis Winning Poems for December 2009
Judge Majid Naficy... Jan 17 10, 20:29
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:
|
|
Read our FLYERS - click below
Reference links provided to aid in fine-tuning
your writings. ENJOY!
|
|
|
|