酷我-北美枫

[星子]

THE ONTARIO POETRY SOCIETY PRESENTS:

“IN THE MOOD” POETRY CONTEST WINNING ENTRIES

CONTEST DEADLINE: NOV. 30th, 2005

Contest Judge: Becky Alexander







1st PRIZE – Female Category



Like Fred Astaire

Patricia Smekal, Nanoose Bay, B.C.

Your wit moves light

on its feet. It dances

in patent-leather shoes,

sweeps up my mood,

puts a shine on gloom.



You bend me to your tune,

dip and sway me into step,

tap me happy, turn me out

in top hat and tails.





1st PRIZE – Male Category



In Delft*
Rob Taylor, Victoria, B.C.

Off the wet stone pavement

through the dark door

into rooms, a universe



Curtains conceal, mirrors reveal

shadows, hints, suggestions

stillness, movement



Brief ray of sunlight

a brass candelabra gleams

dust motes rise, goblets glisten



Flies buzz about a bowl of apples

musty carpets, solemn hangings

windmills and ships on walls



A door creaks, keys in the lock

jingle softly, a shutter clatters

a breeze whistles gently



Somewhere down that hall

pungent onions hang, drying

potatoes boil, jostle in a steaming pot



Acrid smell of a peat fire

baked bread, fish stew

crumbs of a plain meal



Upstairs a lute sounds

a voice mutters, a chair scrapes

somewhere a door closes



Dog paws scratch across tiles

heels clatter on parquet, skirts rustle

someone is sweeping



Outside, a narrow alley

splash of water in an unseen well

or is it still raining?



Chambers, passages, closets, stairs

alive with possibilities

the chance of surprise



A sense of distance confined

secret depths hidden

eternity in a pocket



In the next room might sit Christ

* suggested by a painting of Vermeer







Six Honourable Mention Award Winning Poems --

Three in the Female Category and Three in the Male Category




Alone
John Soules

Sitting alone by the fire,

looking up at the night sky –

the stars so close

you could hold them

in your hand,

the darkness so deep

it would never let go.




Something Borrowed, Something Blue
April Bulmer

I am the shape of low,

the body opening

its shadow—

a snake.

pulling from me,

its tongue and its face.

And my heart, too,

is a coil,

the skin shedding

its lace.



I am afraid of marriage

and its veil.

Your soul

in its vase.

My ring

swallowing its tail,

dying before grace.





aspect

Joseph A. Farina

at the edge of granite and water

i stood awaiting the surprise



the voices of night, gave way to daysong

as the first rays lifted the darkened horizon



they dissolved me into vapor –

my voice became a whisper,

floating,

among the current charged particles of the universe –



one with the chorus of light…





Yoga Meditation
Kate Marshall Flaherty

So it is me down here—

pressed into sand at seafloor,

dark starfish



here and now

is still and cool



from gill-slits

thoughts bubble up,

burst at ocean’s skin.



So it is me—

watching my body’s undulation,

jellyfish in brine,



breath

sea anemone



angelfish slide over me

without a ripple,



I am deep. . .



could drown in the tranquil,



want to rest here



seaweed-still



nestled in green sea rocks





storm clouds

Joseph A. Farina

i take the darkness

of this bleak November day

and wrap myself in its iron-grey—

my mourning cloth—

surrounding me with dark waters

and storm filled clouds – i become

invisible in the turmoil

oblivious to the thunder

in myself – confused in the swirl

of hard choices – i burst open

as the rain – cold

falling, falling

to the depths of my own sea…





Yesterday’s Faded Affair
Debbie Okun Hill

When the flesh of her mood bleeds

from evergreen to crimson,

it intensifies her pain

like yesterday’s lipstick smudge

discovered on parchment paper,

a fair stained, faded rose pigment

on onion skin

peeling tears

from her wide opened eyes

[[ANNA]]

THE ONTARIO POETRY SOCIETY PRESENTS:

“IN THE MOOD” POETRY CONTEST WINNING ENTRIES

CONTEST DEADLINE: NOV. 30th, 2005

Contest Judge: Becky Alexander







1st PRIZE – Female Category



Like Fred Astaire

Patricia Smekal, Nanoose Bay, B.C.

Your wit moves light

on its feet. It dances

in patent-leather shoes,

sweeps up my mood,

puts a shine on gloom.



You bend me to your tune,

dip and sway me into step,

tap me happy, turn me out

in top hat and tails.





1st PRIZE – Male Category



In Delft*
Rob Taylor, Victoria, B.C.

Off the wet stone pavement

through the dark door

into rooms, a universe



Curtains conceal, mirrors reveal

shadows, hints, suggestions

stillness, movement



Brief ray of sunlight

a brass candelabra gleams

dust motes rise, goblets glisten



Flies buzz about a bowl of apples

musty carpets, solemn hangings

windmills and ships on walls



A door creaks, keys in the lock

jingle softly, a shutter clatters

a breeze whistles gently



Somewhere down that hall

pungent onions hang, drying

potatoes boil, jostle in a steaming pot



Acrid smell of a peat fire

baked bread, fish stew

crumbs of a plain meal



Upstairs a lute sounds

a voice mutters, a chair scrapes

somewhere a door closes



Dog paws scratch across tiles

heels clatter on parquet, skirts rustle

someone is sweeping



Outside, a narrow alley

splash of water in an unseen well

or is it still raining?



Chambers, passages, closets, stairs

alive with possibilities

the chance of surprise



A sense of distance confined

secret depths hidden

eternity in a pocket



In the next room might sit Christ

* suggested by a painting of Vermeer







Six Honourable Mention Award Winning Poems --

Three in the Female Category and Three in the Male Category




Alone
John Soules

Sitting alone by the fire,

looking up at the night sky –

the stars so close

you could hold them

in your hand,

the darkness so deep

it would never let go.




Something Borrowed, Something Blue
April Bulmer

I am the shape of low,

the body opening

its shadow—

a snake.

pulling from me,

its tongue and its face.

And my heart, too,

is a coil,

the skin shedding

its lace.



I am afraid of marriage

and its veil.

Your soul

in its vase.

My ring

swallowing its tail,

dying before grace.





aspect

Joseph A. Farina

at the edge of granite and water

i stood awaiting the surprise



the voices of night, gave way to daysong

as the first rays lifted the darkened horizon



they dissolved me into vapor –

my voice became a whisper,

floating,

among the current charged particles of the universe –



one with the chorus of light…





Yoga Meditation
Kate Marshall Flaherty

So it is me down here—

pressed into sand at seafloor,

dark starfish



here and now

is still and cool



from gill-slits

thoughts bubble up,

burst at ocean’s skin.



So it is me—

watching my body’s undulation,

jellyfish in brine,



breath

sea anemone



angelfish slide over me

without a ripple,



I am deep. . .



could drown in the tranquil,



want to rest here



seaweed-still



nestled in green sea rocks





storm clouds

Joseph A. Farina

i take the darkness

of this bleak November day

and wrap myself in its iron-grey—

my mourning cloth—

surrounding me with dark waters

and storm filled clouds – i become

invisible in the turmoil

oblivious to the thunder

in myself – confused in the swirl

of hard choices – i burst open

as the rain – cold

falling, falling

to the depths of my own sea…





Yesterday’s Faded Affair
Debbie Okun Hill

When the flesh of her mood bleeds

from evergreen to crimson,

it intensifies her pain

like yesterday’s lipstick smudge

discovered on parchment paper,

a fair stained, faded rose pigment

on onion skin

peeling tears

from her wide opened eyes