What are phrases for?
To impart info. To consolation a grieving coronary heart. To understand a seashore riven with the cries of hovering and swooping birds. To provide voice to the silence.
Or perhaps, fastidiously chosen to make a sample that may nonetheless shimmer 100 years from now, for chatting with our grandchildren’s kids of the poets and the world during which they lived.
Meet this month’s Cape Cod Poetry winners:
Dr. Steven Wittenberg Gordon lives in Mashpee and is the Editor-in-Chief of “Songs of Eretz Poetry Evaluate.”
Poem inspiration: After I moved from Kansas to Mashpee final yr, the very first thing I wished to see was the ocean, which, for a Kansan, is an excellent sight. I quickly found Mashpee Seashore. This sonnet is my try and seize and protect a magical second I had there on a vivid, chilly, windy day in December.
Mashpee Seashore Sonnet
By Dr. Steven W. Gordon
A stiff wind blows
superb sand in my face
dermabrading my pores and skin
and stinging my eyes.
A quartet of Ring-billed gulls
over the white noise
of the gray-green waves.
of Least Sandpipers
lands on the seashore
scurries piping throughout the moist sand
and takes flight.
Mary Swope, who lives in Woods Gap, is creator of Phosphorescence,” lately printed by Phrase Poetry.
Inspiration: Jamie Burnes — Weston native, now in Santa Fe — marries welded steel and hunks of wooden salvaged from fallen bushes to create artwork celebrating animals. Positioned outdoor, whether or not on a garden, pasture or the sting of a cliff above a freeway, the work, summary close-up, is strikingly lifelike. This poem makes an attempt to specific in phrases my admiration for what his wordless sculptures so skillfully painting.
ODE TO A YOUNG SCULPTOR
By Mary G. Swope
James Burnes, you understand
the way in which a cow focuses inward, ribs caged round her innards
— tender dreamy areas between rumination and bone;
the way in which the bear lumbers on ponderous pads,
her huge trunk balanced like a dancer’s —
thick chunks of muscle and fats sliding beneath thick fur —
claws swift to nail a salmon, slash a bee tree or maintain
her cub protected from perils that snake up by means of the grass;
the way in which a moose carries his weighty crown —
broad antlers branching from the dripping head,
beard pouring with water or weed —
on splayed legs, awkward, that brace him,
these elbows of bone anchored by hoofy pads
sucking the mud, the trodden reeds and cattails;
or how the thoroughbred blows by means of his younger nostrils
smelling recent grass or the sweat of the racetrack,
the scent of victory: alert on hoof-tip,
eyes large, ears a-tremble, all nerve, coronary heart, fiber,
able to bolt or be guided on the lightest sign.
Your eyes and arms comprehend every important nature —
their wildness calls out to your wildness, they inhabit
your deepest thoughts — and so, with fireplace and tongs,
shears and chisel, you carve heartwood, lower and weld
curves of metal, constructing areas they enter, respiration,
the place others can know them, too.
Mary Doering is a poet and artist dwelling in Brewster and at the moment writing her memoir.
Inspiration: My poem is predicated on a real story. I apply a type of meditation primarily based on the current second. I’m regularly humbled by the straightforward path “be right here now.” Nonetheless, after I handle, a number of seconds of consideration, I’m rewarded with a blessing I might have in any other case missed.
Breakfast with My Husband
By Mary Doerning
I apply being current
watch my blueberries float
in milk and oatmeal
problem myself to chew slowly
attempt to be
the style transports me again
to a childhood kitchen
father simply slammed out the door
shattered cup subsequent to the wall
mom on the kitchen sink
it’s arduous to swallow
haloed within the morning gentle
I see your sleepy face
quietly studying the paper
you look up and smile
it’s like discovering that one good
keeper stone on the ocean’s edge
tenderly I slip your love into my pocket
Sarah Barry Bellevue is a restaurant supervisor, and bartender from Mashpee.
Inspiration: After the passing of my father this previous July, I started to ponder the concept of “time.” My father at all times had a pocket watch; he was clued-in to all sides of time. After he died, it feels as if a few of these curiosities had been handed to me. I’ve begun to rethink the life my father led, and the impression he had on this earth. This poem derives from this grief, and peace.
The Satan’s Strolling Stick
By Sarah Barry Bellevue
In our youth we beg
For the arms to Transfer
To get to What we would like
Within the center we don’t discover
As they race
Of what we thought
Was to be
We develop previous
Of what was hoped
The hand’s tick
The Satan’s strolling stick
Click on click on click on
Tavis Linsin is a author, musician and educator. He flies cling gliders in Wellfleet.
Inspiration: On this poem I have fun our capability and can to heal, the ships that carry us on our journeys, and lights that information us. I hope that within the poem’s strains you may hear songs new and previous.
By Tavis Linsin
With this blessing of the fleet
we obtain benedictions of impermanence
and by the sunshine of the Pleiades sail towards new days
that may convey nice therapeutic
There however for our music
we go all the way down to the ocean in ships
lovefallen, bearing what we can not maintain
searching for all of the lights which are shining nonetheless
Columns of flame rise above these shores
from Lewis Bay to Nauset to Lengthy Level
at nice top we steadiness by feeling the horizon
tenderly inlayed with flocks of birds
Aglow with the pedagogy of ships
we develop nearer to at least one one other
and free the imprisoned lighting of all searching for refuge
that collectively we could sail on over the wonders of the deep
Tara Chhabra lives in Eastham and Saratoga Springs, New York. Her weblog is covid19chronicles.org.
Inspiration: My brother, an idealist and adventurer, championed cryptocurrency. He was relentless in pushing others to speculate. I wrote this in early 2018 when the Bitcoin bubble burst — values fell 65% — in response to the fallout. Given the latest GameStop/Dogecoin mania, resurrecting this appeared apropos. Postscript: My brother launches a B-corp this March devoted to educating youth about nature and mobilizing them to guard pollinators.
By Tara Chhabra
Bitcoin! Bitcoin! shouts Brother
Prattling on about Ethereum
Taking cash from weary Mom
All I hear and see is delirium
Proselytizing about rebelling
Foretelling a brand new world order
I can not hear you to your yelling
Only a completely different shade of hoarder
What is that this sphere you’re dwelling in?
What Utopia do you search?
I’m extra vulnerable to giving in
Casting my lot with the weak
Chaos is a part of this cut price
A deal you by no means made
Rumble with the uncertainty once more
Please rethink this path you’ve got laid
Bitcoin is however a bubble
Junk bonds, tech, actual property earlier than
Why invite nervousness and bother?
Let me recommend a distinct door
Watch a hen alight on a tree
Hear the laughter of your little one
Learn a library e book totally free
Stroll alone for a day within the wild
See the riches throughout you
Discover that better pleasure abounds within the small
Let not the ache confound you
That is life. You have already got all of it.
Submitting a poem
Right here’s learn how to ship us your work:
Submit one poem single-spaced, of 35 strains or fewer per 30 days *
Poems can not be beforehand printed (in print or on-line).
Deadline for submission is March 1, 2021.
Submit by e mail to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Poems ought to be freed from hate speech and expletives (profanity, vulgarity, obscenity).
IN THE BODY OF THE E-MAIL, ship your contact info: identify, deal with, cellphone no. and title of poem; then, IN A WORD.DOC ATTACHMENT embrace poem with out identify or some other private information, in order that the poem could be judged anonymously.
Poets not beforehand printed within the Cape Cod Instances are welcome to submit a brand new poem every month; these poets beforehand printed within the Instances, 3 months after publication.
Poets can be notified provided that their poem is accepted.
Poems can be chosen by a panel of readers on the Cape and Islands who’re printed poets and editors.