MM's Represented Poems for 2007 Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

JANUARY SELECTIONS:


The Ravin’ by JustDaniel

Oft I dream, my body shakin’; worried wife cannot awaken.
Though I’m safe abed, she’s anxious; twice I’ve fallen on the floor.
Once she woke me from my slumber… seems I swore… a nasty number!
3 AM today, while tremblin’, something nearly soiled my drawers.
What’s that high-pitched screeching, screeching? She’s awake now and beseeching,
“Dear, what is that awful shrieking? Peek inside the closet door!
Only this, and nothing more!”

“Why don’t you? You are awake now… and of course you have the know-how;
must be Ollie trapped inside there; crazy cat’s behind the door.”
“No, it’s something else,” she worried; still she wished that I had scurried.
“Hurry up; get up, you crazy, lazy lump… but watch the floor!”
Still, I nearly fell… then righted, while she watched, now more affrighted
as I stumbled, bleary-sighted toward the stupid closet door…
now expecting blood and gore.

Tripping over clothes not laundered, step-by-step, in dark I wandered,
squandered time as I moved nearer, nearer to the closet door.
What’s behind it…? Now I’m fearing… and the fear’s not disappearing!
What could be there crying, crying? What’s behind that closet door?
Inch-by-inch… then hesitating. Why is she so obligating?
She could look herself inside it… I’m a man who’s scared… best hide it!
“Don’t you worry!” I implore.

Then I feel my body quiver… kidneys, bladder, even liver…
it’s gut-wrenching, teeth now clenching; I hear something like a snore.
Looking back… my wife is screaming, and behind, a light is beaming,
beaming till my eyes are burning… burning fire I can’t ignore.
“Turn the light off; I can’t stand it!” I yell back… yes, I demand it!
“Wake up, Daniel; stop that screaming!” It was I that I heard snore.
‘Twas a dream, and nothing more.

© Daniel Ricketts 30 Oct 2006

Sing to Me by Eisa

Cradle me, Mammy --
in your warm arms I’ll inhale
the fragrance of your skin;
playing ‘butterflies’,
eyelashes flutter
against each other’s cheeks.

Sing to me, Mammy,
lift me with your spirit
in rousing hymns;
soothe me with lullabies,
swaying ‘til I rest.

I’m growing old, Mammy,
yet that little girl lingers --
longing for the solace
of your embrace.
When sleeplessly tired
I ache for the lilting
timbre of your voice
to wrap me in peace.


© Eira Needham December 2006


Mammy – Welsh dialect

The Phantom by Merlin

I

When dawn arises, spreading dulcet rays
across her vast expanse of peaks and draws,
nocturnal creatures tread on silken paws
back to their lairs ahead of morning’s haze.
A herd of horses in one treed retreat
begins to stir and move to grazing grounds;
spry, frisky foals carouse in leaps and rounds
as docile mares choose grasses fresh and sweet.

A cabin, nestled near a forest crook,
takes life with golden lamplight glow; its smoke
ascends in blue-gray plumes to disappear.
When Josh awakes, he takes a yearning look
to where his hills turn sable-cobalt-oak
and Hogback Ridge keeps chanting in his ear.


II

To local folks, The Phantom is a myth
like many kept alive across the plain
by cowpokes long in tooth and tough in grain
who claim they’ve felt this stallion’s fiery breath.
Those tales relate how he’s a patriarch
that keeps his harem free from spur and bit,
though loudmouth punchers brag how they’d outwit
The Phantom, but each effort missed its mark.

Josh rode his grula through an open green,
exploring Hogback Ridge’s weaving streams
and chanced upon a fresh, but well-worn trail.
He rode uphill to check what could be seen
and watched as wonderment change into dream –
light wind caressed The Phantom’s mane and tail.


III

Where mountaintops are capped with ice and snow
and stillness fills each valley to its brink,
a youngster stops to give his horse a drink,
dismounting while cool, placid waters flow.
Josh hears a whiney as The Phantom throws
his head around, now sensing something wrong
and starts to move his trusting herd along
the bottomland. A soothing zephyr blows.

Josh checks his cinch, remounts, and heads for home
since noon has passed them by some time ago;
his grula breaks into an easy trot.
With mind awhirl, Josh wishes he could roam
wild as The Phantom, free as west winds blow,
his restless spirit never to be caught.

[Cleo_Serapis]

Please disregard the previous announcement about the November entries. Based on feedback we received from some of the boards, we're going to go ahead and send them on to the current judge (whose term is about to expire) for judging as a single group. This make-up competition will run concurrent with the regular January competition, which will be judged by Fleda Brown. Depending on turnaround time we may be able to announce the November results first (hopefully).

Thanks,
David Ayers

PLEASE DISREGARD POSTED INFO BELOW:

OK - here's some interesting news: I'd been wondering why we hadn't received word of any winners from the NOVEMBER competition - I just received the following email from David Ayers at the IBPC:

Please note that there will be no "official" winners for the month of
November. We only received a handful of entries for the month. Because
of this and because the competition was already behind schedule due to
delays in the October judging, we decided to hold off sending new
entries for judging until we received the next group of poems (for the
December competition) which were then handled per our normal process.

This gets us back on schedule with the judging. Unfortunately, it
resulted in a gap in the monthly winners, and a small group of poems
that were never forwarded on for judging, but we felt that this was
really the best way to resolve the situation given the time constraints.

For those boards that DID submit entries for the November competition,
we apologize for the inconvenience. Perhaps those entries can be worked
back into the next few batches that you send for judging. We might even
be able to allow an extra 'make-up' poem for each of the next few
months--in other words, a fourth entry which would come from that
November group which got skipped. You would need to coordinate this with
Gina but I think it could be done without creating too much extra work
on her end or on the judge's end. As I mentioned, we really didn't
receive a lot of Nov. entries to begin with.


Best,
David Ayers
IBPC

Given this information, coupled with the ony ONE nomination for MM for the January comp, I'd like to go ahead and re-submit the three entried from Nov which are: So Long Summer by Merlin, Going Home by heartsong7 and Peace by Larry along with the official Jan Nom: Time Piece by Frances Kennedy. I understand that Sue has requested not to include her works for the IBPC going forward, so I'll send all the poets a PM now and repost this into a new thread as well.

Cheers
~Cleo