2020 Poetry Contest-Call for Submissions

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The Universally Besieged

 Katherine Leigh, First Place Adult  

   Sad assignment, that of giving birth to a sterile baby 

in a barren world, all countries shaken to their cores.

   Takes a certain jaded courage to saddle up with only 

hope enough for the slight remainder of what was 

originally a full journey.

   Yet we travel, pay the hand to pass us through 

borders, open gates at night to the glint of coin and 

bullet over bodies of our daughters, bones of our sons.

      Listening to our plight has a color;

          help, a shade of grey.

   Carved into me is the bravery to move by moonlight.

   The ‘besieged’ talk around the potato table about a 

possible rebirth of remnants of family fled from damaged 

culture, in a faraway imagined-place we may, easily, 

never see.

   So to mold a new future, to hold onto old traditions, 

to carry embers of flame, to embolden sinew under the 

burden of relentless intensity.

   That is each waking moment if we curl for a drift of 

sleep.

   We take time to thank Allah or Jesus or Quan Yin, 

the ancestress energy,  the generative offspring.

   Believers, we bend our bodies to include moon and 

sun, to reinforce as artists of our daily lives, of our 

impermanence;

           ourselves as stars.

cancer creations

Mary Anker -Second Place Adult

a mother recovers

her nine-year-old body

reacquaints itself

time 

barely unspooling

pulls years out of seconds

bald head worn proud

trips to Boston 

pilgrimages pursuing

a holy grail 

courage

in a chemo chair

alien face eyebrows and lashes disappear

inside elevators

fear stands 

elbow to elbow

hollow strangers

nod

eyes do the communicating 

kitchen table 

a studio 

scissors, sayings

paint brushes, pens, journals, cards

watercolors, words

release

disbelief

love holds 

after long nights 

of floating blue

the sky of light 

renews

 I Could

Autumn Siders-Third Place-Adult

I Could I could sit and watch 

as you scream and shout. 

I could back away 

and let you sort it out. 

I could hear those words, 

Muslim, illegal, fag, Jew 

but pretend they are just words 

not to do with me but with you.

I could go home 

and just wait my turn 

until your hate becomes murder 

and these words boil and churn. 

I could wait until 

those screams turn to fists 

and look on in horror 

as blood fiercely mists. 

I could do all this 

but then am I to blame 

when the headline this week 

is another soul has been maimed? 

I could stand up 

and make my voice heard, 

stand beside a fellow human 

and push back your bitter words. 

I could stand up 

and you could stand down 

and realize that differences 

are what make the world go ‘round. 

I could lecture you on love 

but you are just so full of hate, 

so instead I’ll show you love 

and all it can create.