| Author | Message | ||
     Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 8972 Registered: 9-2003 |
An honorable mention for Desert Moon Review courtesy of Yoly, a third place for Chris George for his poem "Joseph Kony" representing Writer's Block and an honorable mention for Bret Addison representing The Critical Poet. Congratulations to all those recognized! InterBoard Poetry Community October 2006 Winning Poems Judge: David Kirby First Place "The Song of Bob" by Margaret Ruth Porter Salty Dreams Second Place "Sarah in Gaza, 1956" by Steve Meador Poets.org Third Place "Joseph Kony" by Christopher T. George The Writer’s Block HONORABLE MENTIONS: "The Thing about this Theory" by Yolanda Calderon-Horn Desert Moon Review ~~~ "One Winter in Whidbey Island" by Bret Addison The Critical Poet Poems and Commentary: First Place: The Song of Bob by Margaret Ruth Porter (for Fred Tarr and the Radio Room) The love affair with stangers began with morning glories between us, Bob went to work at the prison at 6:30 as the birds performed their last songs. He quieted Sarge, Berry and Coco with biscuits before he left with his radio on, yet they started barking before he reached the first stop sign. I want to be his wife forever they thought, I thought and we kept barking, as we chased his car for all time in our minds. Bob talks to his ex 1500 minutes a month, he doesn't seem to mind the cost of his past tense. Why didn't you just stay married? I am pretty too behind this fence made of chain-mail. Twenty-one years is all he says from the screened-in back porch where he keeps his old partners, ex-police dogs, his detritus. It is as if 21 years is the official Americana. There must be one hundred morning glories from me to Bob, outflanking the trees choking them slowly. Bob wants me to be his wife forever, waiting in my war torn house next door so he can get home from prison to say goodnight and wake up again to say good morning all over. I am the last sweetheart in town. Judge’s Comments: You get a lot of value with this poem: the whole thing is a mystery, yet each line is as well. As in the best literature (think Dostoevsky, Melville, Shakespeare), the scenario here is vaguely criminal; there's danger lurking in every shadow. And the voice is sexy and threatening yet off-hand, as though all this turbulence is no big deal. What the reader gets is the stuff of dreams; the threat is enormous, yet you know you're going to wake up, or at least you hope you do. --David Kirby ~~~ Second Place: Sarah in Gaza, 1956 by Steve Meador The figs. I had to see if the figs were safe. Without them we would have nothing to sell or trade, only some dried tomatoes and hard raisins. The smoke from the trucks and tanks was no different than the dust and sand that filled our mouths every day. The sound of the planes like the scream of hot wind. The bombs could have been thunder. I was eight and knew I could save the trees from the madness. Thank God, oh thank God the French and British did not want figs. I held my arms out, protected the grove as they drove by looking for men and boys to catch. Maybe to shoot. When I ran down the hill my grandfather, father and uncle were squatting in the chicken pen. The French wanted to kill them. Lana, our Christian neighbor, whispered a breeze of soft words through their thick forest of guns. A captain flicked his cigarette at our brave men, then the soldiers left. My uncle smoked the rest of it. I saved the figs. Lana saved our men. Judge’s Comments: What a time, what a place -- and while the time has changed, the place is still riven by a conflict that looks as though it will never have an end. There's only one stance for a writer to take, and that's a stoic one. So much ink has been spilled over the Mideast, and much of it amounts to emotional pornography, that is, an unearned excitement that leaves one feeling drained yet sickly. That's not the case with this poem. Hre the poet speaks calmly and laconically and in a way that is so much louder than any bombast could ever be. --David Kirby ~~~ Third Place: Joseph Kony by Christopher T. George The Lord told me, "Raise a children's army." So I formed the Lord's Resistance to fight the oppressors in Kampala. My boys burned village huts, killed, cut off people's ears and lips, -- now their mouths stay open, the better to pray and their ears strain to hear the Lord's words. Some ask why we did all these things. Why does a leaf fall? Is it not because God wills it? When my children pounded babies in wooden mortars, dare you question it was the Lord's request to me? Now some name Joseph Kony a war criminal. Yet, the way of my people, the Acholi, is to forgive, to invite all to the mataput, to share a roasted sheep. I will quit the jungle with my sixty wives for nothing less than full amnesty, the shared meal. I will emerge from the jungle shadows, an old lion bringing the wisdom of my Lord God to the young lions to tell them to let the holy oils annoint them, a stone sewn into their garments so a mountain projects to shield them and all bullets bounce off. And I will sing in praise of the Lord of the limping and the lost, Lord of the empty basket, of the water turned to blood, of the severed lips and ears - the butchered lamb at the feast. Judge’s Comments: Matthew Arnold and Robert Browning couldn't have foreseen that the dramatic monologue would be put to such use, but that's what the tradition is all about; you take the best from the past and you ring changes on it. Here, a blood-drenched man speaks his mind, and we despise him, yet we understand him. A poem is not going to work unless the reader can say, "Well, yes, I guess I've felt that way myself." We say that after reading this one and then we flinch, not at the subject but at ourselves, at these beasts and angels we call humanity. --David Kirby ~~~ Honorable Mentions: The Thing about this Theory by Yolanda Calderon-Horn Under the remains of honey daylight, cut to stripes by white plantation blinds, I sit at your desk, wrapped in my it voice, scribbling my best guess of why pumpkins are gobbled mostly in the fall. I plan to leave the theory in your notebook: but it's absurd, and we've had enough of that. I throw my head back so that my chin points straight ahead-- swallow hard, shoving unfettered thoughts down my throat. I want to roll my corners out like this colorful Persian rug you love, but I'm being pulled from under you while words hash to dust. And you need protocols for the future like a tin full of leftover screws. ~~~ One Winter in Whidbey Island by Bret Addison The Bering Straits were especially cruel that year. The Anacortes fleet lost two crab boats. In Friday Harbor it never quit raining. The paper always had suicides. That was the year Scoop Jackson quietly died. She kept the nightstand full of prescription bottles. Her hands never touched the Earth. No plants grown, no digging in a garden. Occasionally, a glass needed washing. The mill's Black Liquor ate up the soles of my boots. Lummi Indians unloaded the green chain of the sawmill. Ten hours lifting 4 by 6's and 2 by 4's makes you strong or breaks you down. No in betweens. Nothing grey, but the fog. The sound of Navy jets doing touch and go's. A hotdog pilot flew under Deception Pass Bridge and took out the phones. The steer jumps the fence even with the tire around the neck. Back then the island was covered with Sitka Spruce. You could drive to the top of Mt. Erie and it seemed the whole Sound was in front of you, except Seattle. Northern Lights kept the path to the barn. I hear she's back in Tucson and went into treatment after her last boyfriend died on her kitchen floor from a hot shot. Her son's in a rock and roll band. I'm here, still wet and shivering. Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Yolanda C (Yoly) Moderator Post Number: 1979 Registered: 7-2004 |
Thank you, Chris. Congratulations to you and Bret. Your poems rock. Yoly http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-j69A5hUodKq7081bams-? | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 8975 Registered: 9-2003 |
Nice work, Yoly! Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Bret Addison (Courir) Junior Member Post Number: 109 Registered: 5-2006 |
Kudos To Yoly for hanging w/DMR! Congrats to you Chris. Splendid poem. Bret Blessings, Bret | ||
| Johanna Donovan (Olliesgirl) Senior Member Post Number: 839 Registered: 1-2005 |
Great news Yoly, Chris and Brad! Johanna | ||
| Sarah S. (Sarah) Moderator Post Number: 2549 Registered: 7-2004 |
That's wonderful news, you three. Congrats! enjoy the glow. sarah http://theraininmypurse.blogspot.com | ||
| Laurie Byro (Laurie_byro) Senior Member Post Number: 1722 Registered: 3-2005 |
Congratulations all. I go away for two days and miss all the fanfare. I'm delighted for you Chris, haha Finally no guilt. Yoly GREAT job and Bret, congrats Peace Laurie check out new work by Byro/Waters http://heretics.bravehost.com/mp.html | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 8981 Registered: 9-2003 |
Thank you, Bret, Johanna, Sarah, and Laurie.  Chris  Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Rus Bowden (Rusbowden) Senior Member Post Number: 320 Registered: 10-2003 |
Congratulations to the winners! These are remarkable poems our new judge David Kirby has chosen. I love the "Kirbyisms" he weaves in when he reviews: So much ink has been spilled over the Mideast, and much of it amounts to emotional pornography, that is, an unearned excitement that leaves one feeling drained yet sickly. and: A poem is not going to work unless the reader can say, "Well, yes, I guess I've felt that way myself." There are two web pages on him you may want to peruse: About Poetry: David Kirby Bud Bloom Poetry: Poet David Kirby: profiles, Kirbyisms, & video Yours, Rus | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 9000 Registered: 9-2003 |
Hi Rus Many thanks for your kind congratulations. Also for the useful links regarding judge David Kirby. Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Guy Kettelhack (Guyblakekett) Moderator Post Number: 7576 Registered: 1-2004 |
wonderful to see these deserved honors! congrats, yoly, bret & chris! g | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 9010 Registered: 9-2003 |
Thank you, Guy. Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Laurie Byro (Laurie_byro) Senior Member Post Number: 1738 Registered: 3-2005 |
WOW THIS IS MEG PORTER CONGRATULATIONS MEG!!!!!!!! Laurie check out new work by Byro/Waters http://heretics.bravehost.com/mp.html | ||
| Mitchell Geller (Cynaraslover) Senior Member Post Number: 1197 Registered: 4-2004 |
It finally dawned on me that this month's first prize winner, Margaret Ruth Porter, must be our own Meg Porter. This is a senior moment for me. Sorry for belated recognition. Congratulations on a job well done! mitchell | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 9023 Registered: 9-2003 |
Hello Laurie and Mitchell You are correct because at http://www.argotistonline.co.uk/Porter%2520poem.htm she states that she lives in Beirut so it has to be the same lady. If you are reading this, Meg, many congratulations!!! Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm | ||
| Mo Swanson (Maureenswanson) Senior Member Post Number: 767 Registered: 1-2005 |
Dear Poets, Belated congratulations and bouquets of roses. mo | ||
| Christopher T George (Editorcg) Moderator Post Number: 9043 Registered: 9-2003 |
Thank you, Mo, bouquet of roses greatfully received.  Chris Editor, Desert Moon Review Co-Editor, Loch Raven Review http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/ http://chrisgeorge.netpublish.net/index.htm |
