March 2010 Winning Poems
Judged by Diana Loy
First Place:
My Neighbor, Maggie
by Maureen Ford
With ashen wrinkled face and squinting eyes
Bridgie peered over the briery hedge twice,
Before retreating, in the gate, to her unkempt yard,
Where noisy ducks and geese and hens sparred
For the tossed stale bread and spud-skins,
Thinking all the while of the empty bins
That years before were full of fresh-thrashed oats,
To feed the sinewy horses with shiny coats
Of chestnut and the grey dappled pon.
But only fowl are left to ease her lonely
Solitary life,in the crumbling old house,
The open fire sends smoke curling south
As strong winds suck up the flames, buming
The fiery red and gamboge and bright blue
Colors of the smoldering sticks and wood through.
Clothed in black shawl and billowing skirt
She slowly shuffles over the weedy dirt,
While from the gable-end of the dwelling
Can be heard the sound of spout-water spilling
Into an over-flowing tub, round which moss
Clings to whitewashed rocks and discarded clay pots,
Maggie's toothless mouth and ashy wrinkles,
Hidden from herself by cracked spectacles'
Is familiar to the drowsy cat and mice
That scramble round the flour-bin like dice
On the game table. A black pot hangs
From the iron-gate, that swings over embers
Or roaring fire, to bake flat-bread with
Cinders carefully plucked from fire to lid.
Living alone, in crowded yard and kitchen
With frowning countenanceMaggie keeps dishin '
Old stories of neighbors background, true
Or false but sometimes missing from her brew
Are even small crumbs of Christian charity,
While histories, gossip and secrets, with clarity,
Are repeated to whoever stops to greet
The old woman with a will to bleat.
Second Place:
ANSWERING MACHINE
by Riva Dunaief
Hello, thf s is my body
answer tape, My soul
is out right now. Please leave your name and maybe
I'll get back to you.
Hello, this is my body
tape, Believe me, when I'm
here. I'm charming, witty,
understanding, cheerful.
Believe me, I'll call
back when I am here.
Hello, this is my tape again. Your calls have been received, recorded, stored for future listening. Right now my overloaded circuits can't respond
to anyone.
Honorable Mention:
Song for the Long Gone
by John Vincent Palozzi
piano plays purple jazz
as smoke ghost floats through spot light
yellow drums tap like telegraph key
while bass gives up its brown thumps
vibrating whisky in and out of glass
trumpet and sax sing red like twins
coordinating, taking turns, harmonizing
feet tapping
heads bobbing
eyes closed
and the long white-dressed lady
at the microphone
with purple eyes and purple lips
moans blue-green melody
to ancestors in the balcony
to ghosts with waiting ears
to lovers never to be
Honorable Mention:
Untitled
by Theresa Huljack
What can word pictures do
to crush a cup of wine
from waxed fruit out of season?
Plant in your mind
the root, the core
skin, deep toil, sharp
blades of grass
the Reason.
The truth lies
behind the door, behind the door,
disguised.
Guide me through this wine tour,
mutilated pieces of heart store more
than beats and time
marks matter to the Vine
The way out is up and through
Special Contest: Cinquain
Cinquain #2
by Cyndee Bowdoin
Roses
Fragrant, lovely
Budding, blooming, fading
Sadness touches falling petals
Decay