Sol Magazine
October 2002 Edition
Sol Magazine © 2002


Guidelines and submission requirements are posted at:
http://www.sol-magazine.org/rqmts.htm


This is a complex issue, with many sponsors, and many dedications.  We'd like to salute Sol Magazine's many sponsors and volunteers, including its hard-working staff.  Thank you for your support and dedication.  You get it done, and you get it done fast and right!

CONTENTS:
LETTERS
FROM -- LAURA HEIDY:  Thanks to everyone who had a hand in the September contests.  It meant much to me to wake up in a strange hotel in Pittsburgh, turn on the laptop and find that I had won the Ashes and Rubble contest.  I think this one meant more to me because it was first judged by the editors as worthy of competition, (which in itself is a thing to be proud of) and then judged by a vote from the peers and poets I so respect and admire.  Every poem entered was written from the heart, and I thank all who voted for taking the time and for giving my own heart something to grow on.

Back to contents


TOPIC ONE:   FAVORITE POET
JUDGE:   JANET PARKER
SPONSOR:   JANET PARKER
DEDICATION:   To poets and all those who love poetry.




FIRST PLACE - WINNER OF:  $25.00 electronic book gift certificate.
 

Alfred Noyes
(1880-1958)

I always loved a tale of magic brew,
Of bold romance or landscapes bare and stark,
Of highwaymen in nighttime rendezvous,
Of starry rivers flowing to the dark.

I always loved a tale retold in song,
A story handed through the years in rhyme
The flowing verses carry it along
A story that has stood the test of time.

I feed my soul on tales of magic books,
I laugh at tales of pirates on the sea:
I turn the pages, read with lingering looks
The stories that have come through time to me.

Let others cheer free verse and brief quartets,
But I praise haunting rhyme without regrets.

Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  This poem is true to form and holds the reader's interest all the way. Good job.
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SECOND PLACE - WINNER OF:  $20.00 electronic book gift certificate.
 
Vachel Lindsay
(1879-1931)

Naive, I fell, a captive to your verse:
There lost within the native tribal beat
The rolling power of your poem immersed
Me in your singeing, boiling broth replete.

Vachel, how could I know what you had faced?
The strange and heavy burden you had borne?
The bitter light and darkness you embraced
Abandoned you, to leave your spirit worn.

So as "The Congo's echoed rhythms failed
The distant jungle's drums fell quickly dim.
While from your napkin Harlem's Langston sailed
When Lincoln walked you mourned the night with him:

As midnight called you saw the nation's dead
But failing light, you chose your dark instead.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Conforms nicely to structure.  Beautifully expressed.
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THIRD PLACE - WINNER OF:  15.00 electronic book gift certificate.
 
Edgar A. Guest
(1881-1959)

Amongst the many verse I’ve ever read,
A plethora have left their mark on me.
Some briefly - just a moment - then they fled,
But Edgar Guest’s, they linger soulfully.

A masterpiece of everlasting hope,
"They’re Waiting Over There," he comforts grief.
Thanks to those gentle words I came to cope
With life and love extinguished much too brief.

Now when I mourn the loved ones I have lost,
I find solace in my faith that life goes on.
Like autumn nights that lead to winter’s frost,
Some morn my last warm breath will too be gone.

Yet that final moment holds for me no fear.
They'll welcome me - those I have held so dear.

Kathy Kehrli, Factoryville, PA, USA

COMMENTS:  Well written and delightful content.
============
HONORABLE MENTION - WINNER OF: A signed copy of "Trends Vol I, A Collection of Sonnets," by Mary Gribble and Janet Parker.
 
Ogden Nash
(1902-1971))

Although Old World poets are inspiring
I like Nash's metrical outrages
While poems of others become tiring
He slaps surprises over the pages.

I find his observations insightful
They sparkle with verbal agility
Every piece penned is quite delightful
Showcasing his stunning ability.

Luckily his writings were numerous
My shelves are over-burdened with his works
His pointed wit is deftly humorous
All clever verses containing new quirks.

Ending his poems was not a problem
Nash coined a word to stick at the "boblem."

Lois Lay Castiglioni, Galveston, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Very well done.  Ogden himself would have loved the ending.
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OTHER ENTRIES COMMENTED UPON BY OUR JUDGE AND EDITORS
============
William Wordsworth
(1770-1850)

I wandered through the pristine Lake Country
Searching for Wordsworth's dancing daffodils
Drank in bright beauties of the peaceful lea
Heard his poetry echo through the hills

I found beside the lake beneath the trees
As eloquently expressed in his lines
Bonneted blossoms nodding with each breeze
The words rang true though penned in distant times

I uttered thanks at the poet's gravestone
For inspiring me to follow his ways
To hone my captured thoughts into poems
And leave them for others after my days

Back home, his verses fill my inner ear
Visions of daffodils again appear

Kay Lay Earnest, Smyrna, GA, USA

COMMENTS:  One could almost hear William himself in this well expressed poem.  Lovely, pictorial and visual poem.  Easy to see, nice to hear read aloud.
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Emily Dickinson
(1830-1886)

Wandering about the somber forest,
Not a drop of sunshine splashed on my head.
Coleridge, Keats, Blake and Burns I thought best.
Though Whittier, Whitman, and Poe I read.

Those towering giants obscured my days.
Until glints from the sun parted those shadows.
I came to a clearing and felt sun rays.
I happened upon Emily's meadow!

Her airs were fresh, alive and innocent.
Her candid words evoked wonder, surprise.
Her gardens of verse went straight to the point.
Her simple elegance shined in my eyes.

Words from her heart - no sense of sedition,
Paying no mind to fenced up tradition.

Tim Floto, Scotts Valley, Ca, USA

COMMENTS:  Emily shines throughout this poem.  Simply elegant writing.
============
Emily Dickinson
(1830-1886)

She told the truth but always told it slant
Perhaps a way to make her point with charm.
I've tried to emulate her eye but can't;
However, I keep trying -- what's the harm?

She lived her life within a blizzard of white,
A flurry of words that contemplated
Brazil, a robin's eye, a frigate's light
Uniquely stated, not complicated.

Sometimes I know that "zero at the bone"
From poetry that strikes -- a deadly aim;
And like an athlete who finds the zone,
I want to feel my pen uncoil, untame.

What makes a writer reach for such a goal?
Society's selected by the soul.

Avonne Griffin, Greer, SC, USA

COMMENTS:  This poet has captured Emily's style quite well.  The first line is
remarkably descriptive of Emily.  Nicely expressed.
============
Willow Katsumi Relf-Discartin
(1996-    )

My daughter asks, "What are you doing?" and
then I say, " I am writing poetry".
We take a walk and then she stops to stand,
beneath a neighbor's leafless, fruitless tree.

"Is this a poet tree?" she asks, then starts
to clamber up its outstretched branches, to
reach the furthermost tendrils of my heart.
So many trees, yet this one she did choose

to imbue with certain magic powers.
High above the sidewalk, ecstatically
she proclaims herself Muse of the Bowers,
while her loyal subject grins happily.

In awe, and yes so very humbled, still,
she's the better poet-yes, that's my Will!

Terrie Leigh Relf, San Diego, CA, USA

COMMENTS:  Wonderful expressions.  Quite entertaining.  Good form.  Excellently done.
 

Back to contents


TOPIC TWO:   POETRY IN THE ARTS
-- AUTUMN LEAVES --
JUDGES:   JANET PARKER, PAULA MARIE WHITNEY, CRAIG TIGERMAN
SPONSOR:   POETRY IN THE ARTS
DEDICATION:   To the opening of Poetry In the Arts 20th season on October 31st.

FIRST PLACE - Winner of a $100.00 electronic book gift certificate

A Fall

To look at leaves that once were poems
and poets: branches against which
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

in elm, oak, magnolia perfumes
the unfolding buds strangely twitch
to look at leaves that once were poems.

Faint greens harden to verdant gloom
a depth and strength, vascular pitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

bright, fiery hues, the verse consumes
balanced on stems, a poet's stitch
to look at leaves that once were poems

that tip and tumble: falling looms
a failing voice, worn, graveled hitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

The scattered forms at earthly tombs
are folded, crackled, the soil rich
to look at leaves that once were poems
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, TX. USA

COMMENTS:  This villanelle is a masterpiece, poetry at its best.  Death images laced with irony ("verdant gloom," "falling looms," "earthly tombs," "autumn blooms") are creative and striking.  Well-developed diction with a continuous flow of action words.  The experience of reading this poem takes one's breath away.  "To look at leaves that once were poems and poets" - A beautiful line that repeats throughout the poem giving it unusual depth.  This poem breathes colors and emotions, skillfully interweaving the two with the basic poetic concepts we all live with.  Beautiful comparison of nature with a poem and with poets, an unexpected contrast.  Excellent example of a villanelle, so well done the reader doesn't even realize that this is a contrived poetic form - it seems so natural.  Nice almost-rhymes between the "oom" ending sounds and "poems."
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SECOND PLACE - Winner of a $50.00 electronic book gift certificate
 
Anticipating the Lion of Winter

She hides from me in
shorn, brown grass
-- late summer mown

Peers out through red-gold leaves
that carpet ground beneath
newly naked branches

I smell her scent in
bonfires burning
upon manicured lawns

Am chilled by
feral breath grown colder
morning by morning

Her fur clad paws steal
hour upon hour of daylight
-- and days grow shorter still

Across this
tame savannah that is fall
a lioness waits

Stretching her slender fangs into
the ripening jugular of Autumn
bleeding it; bleeding it dry

Like a deer stalker
hanging the carcass of a 10-point buck
head down to

Watch the crimson
pool beneath its
lifeless form

SJ Baldock, Lancaster, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Unusual expressions, with the coming of winter subtlety recorded by this
poet. Ravenously hungry for recognition, this poem rightfully recognizes Autumn as a "roaring lion" seeking to devour the last vestiges of summer's laziness.  Beautiful comparisons of Autumn's feline grace to a lioness, lurking, waiting.  Images could easily have been too graphic, but were so well treated that they instead shone with beauty and clarity of form.  Almost frighteningly clear, in a gloriously poetic way.  It is obvious the poet revels in the words.
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THIRD PLACE - Winner of a $25.00 electronic book gift certificate
 
Fall’s Feast

A tantalizing amber
To whet your appetite;
A copper caramel
For a gooey, cream delight;
A spicy goldenrod
To lend a bit of tang;
A satiating apricot
To ease your hunger pang;
An acid dose of bittersweet
Electrifies the tongue,
While fiery sienna
Sets ablaze the throat and lung.
The autumn leaves comprising
October’s stunning array
Rival even Thanksgiving
For most savory buffet.

Kathy Kehrli, Factoryville, PA, USA

COMMENTS:  Turning Fall into a classic metaphoric buffet is well-done.  The rhyming of every other line is superb.  Delicious!  This poem would whet any sane reader's appetite with its loving attention to the many splendors fall brings - and the clever twist at the end leaves the reader surprised.  Very neatly done, with luscious adjectives and carefully chosen words.
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HONORABLE MENTION - Winner of a $10.00 electronic book gift certificate
 
true colors

against the glowing coals
of sunset
trees rise like black ribbons

autumn leaves
against the sky
bright as broken glass

lemon of memory,
rust of war:
sweetgum trees in September

how lightly the leaves
in the wind
come dancing the season

crimson of history,
bronze of hope:
oak trees in October

on the ground, one brown leaf,
curled and crisp,
cupping a dust of diamond frost

burgundy of patience,
purple of thought:
Norway maples in November

the conversation of owls
fills the forest night
with wisdom

Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

COMMENTS:  This poem deftly leads the reader through the subtle progression of autumn from late summer to early winter, leaving off at the darkness of implied December, which only owls dare discuss. Delightful in its imagery, this poem educates, enlightens, and entertains. Bravo!  A very intriguing poem using colors to represent emotions.  Well expressed in chosen form.  Beautifully quiet in its simplicity, subtle colors well-chosen to convey the feeling of serenity and peace.  Gorgeous diction.  Particularly of note - "lemon of memory / rust of war," among many others.  Nice pinpointing of the single leaf on the ground.  Color abounds, but is used carefully, with an eye on the calm spirit of the poem.  Wonderful closing lines!
 
Poetry in the Arts, Austin, Texas' longest-running poetry venue, now offers contests, publishing, a vision of a more vigorous arts community, and ways for artists to become involved. For more information, visit:  http://www.poetryinarts.org/

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HIDDEN ONE:    THE DIARY
JUDGES:  MICHELLE M. ANGELINI, WARNER CONARTON,
LAURA HEIDY, PAULA MARIE BENTLEY, CRAIG TIGERMAN
SPONSOR: MARY MARGARET CARLISLE
DEDICATION:  To Houston poet, Radames Ortiz, whose poems
bring light and warmth into an ignored and almost forgotten place.

FIRST PLACE

Estate Sale

Boxed, thought provoking treasure
Blue striped cloth with rambling red rose
Inside, an embellished inscription on
Onion skin parchment grown ecru with age
Hundreds upon hundreds of gilt edged pages
Silently blank as the day they were milled

SJ Baldock, Lancaster TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Tricks the reader and adds a delightful sad little twist at the end that deepens earlier lines of the poem.  Lyric and descriptive qualities evoke sharp images, allowing feel ("onion skin parchment") and scent (newly milled blank pages) to create tranquility.  Vivid description of the diary, right on topic, with a stunning revelation in the last line.  Two simple words, "silently blank," say so much, evoking an emotional response in the reader.  Excellent piece!  Deceptively simple language unveils a purely beautiful poem in and of its own love of words.  Very nice attention to specifics such as color, type of paper, edging, with a very thought-provoking final line.  This is a perfect textual example of how silence speaks louder than words.  While it is full of solid outward visual description, it also carries an undertone of the sorrow found inside of nothing.
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SECOND PLACE
leaves of lost autumns

cover the texture of dragonscale
scent of leather, color of sky;
pages sleek as new cream
cool against my fingertips;
tickle of ostrich plume
against my cheek: I
am a scribe adrift
in time.

Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

COMMENTS:  Brings every sense alive as it moves to its thoughtful, lingering conclusion.  Touch, scent, and sight, awakened by uncommon words like "dragonscale," "leather," and "ostrich plume," have the affect of recalling a memory, as seen in the receding shape of the poem.  Fine double meaning in the title leads into multi-sensory (texture, scent, appearance, and we can virtually taste the "new cream") description of the diary, right on topic.  The wispy wistful "scribe adrift" nicely contrasts the solid inanimate object she holds.  Fine poem, exceptional writing.  Lusciously tactile, a nod to the more sensual side of the cool, crisp pages.  This was a delightful read.  The melody is simple and yet it is dramatically presented.   The cadence lilts and dips and carries the reader along with both smile and  vision.
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THIRD PLACE
Faded

Faded ink and soda stains
Mashed between powder blue
Covers painted with sunshine
And a smiling brown teddy
Or maybe a pink-ribboned cat
Memories as lost as childhood

Betty Dobson, Halifax, NS, CAN

COMMENTS:  Stops the heart. Careful, subtle description, well painted poetic canvas.  Nice description of a childhood memory, especially using "mashed" to describe what the diary contains.  Well-written Word-pictures.  Wistful, nostalgic;  this is a lyrical remembrance of a faded remember-when in time.  The stains and doodles can be as compelling as anything else.   Innocence shines in this poem.  We can "see" the book, and child who owned it.
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HONORABLE MENTION
In Plain Sight

Three-ringed binder seemed carelessly tossed
Buried under mail on battered stool
Written in surreptitiously at night
Ignored by sloppy roommates every day
Strange pages added indiscriminately as needed
Scrap paper, napkins, backs of menus
Lovingly placed in plastic coverings
Stuffed red binder replaced by blue or green

Shelley LaRue Crabtree, Enid, OK, USA

COMMENTS:  Squirming, apt description conveying much beyond the words.  A casual, rather than formal, tone.  This diary has a comfortable and lived-in feeling.  Wonderful revelation of diary-scrapbooking as secret, and what a clever hiding place, too, where no one would think to look.  Lots and lots of good description here.  Colorful and visual.
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HONORABLE MENTION
Writing Down the Years

Unassuming little books
In burgundy, brown and cream
Some with locks, some without
Daily events compressed like haiku.
From teen to borderline crone
I record my life faithfully.  This year
Beetles and butterflies contain it.

Mary E. Gray, Newport News, VA, USA

COMMENTS:  Choice words that leave the reader wondering what that awesome final line described.   Similes, colors and nature images add interest.  Whole collection of diaries described.  Outstanding economy of words and images: "compressed like haiku." Smile- provoking conceptualization of our thoughts as contained between caricatures.  Good use of alliteration makes this poem pleasing to the ear and eye.
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HONORABLE MENTION
Dear Diary

September 29, 2002
I had forgotten you holding ramblings of my past
the early 80's filled with teenage angst
between cardboard covers of faded purple
I found you today old, sad, used, holding yellowed pages
what secrets do you keep
miniature silver key halved in your lock
those memories locked within will remain unremembered

Kathy Paupore, Kingsford, MI, USA

COMMENTS:  Builds mightily on familiar contagious mood with grateful release at the end.  Sad emotions developed with the use of words such as "angst," "faded," and "unremembered," telling of an unhappy time and moving past it.  Tantalus modernized - the knowledge that she could easily rip open the lock is held at bay by the sentimentality of keeping secrets secret.  Well-said.  Sad tone underscores the plainly stated visual.
 
Hidden contests are not posted on our website, and are only seen by member poets.
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HIDDEN TWO:   TRANSFORMATION
JUDGES:   JANET PARKER, PAULA MARIE WHITNEY, CRAIG TIGERMAN
SPONSOR:  LEO F. WALTZ
DEDICATION: To October's Guest Editor, Josh Staton.

FIRST PLACE - WINNER OF:  A copy of "Feeding the Crow," edited by Susan Bright, donated by Carlyn Reding.
 
Keeping Promises

It came at first
like silk,
soft and cool
covering everything
with a bridal veil
lacy, slick and white.
Unhurried, a caress touching
peaks and curves, lingering
a moment in the valley
then sliding slowly down
to rest -- hiding
a world of imperfection.

Before the winter snow
is gone, before the cold winds
die, from a white womb
they emerge sleepily
birthing a new season.
Crocus nod sleepy heads,
Daffodils trumpet loudly
and Tulips pucker red lips
to kiss the soft blue skies
of spring.
These tiny embryo keep
earth's covenant.

Linda L. Creech, Bellefontaine, OH, USA

COMMENTS:  Delicious imagery, with vivid and memorable phrasing.  Luscious words, decadent images - this poem is both earthily sensual and utterly innocent in its portrayal of winter's first snow.  Beautifully chosen words evoke care in thought, and the phrase choices are keen with twanging emotion.  Plays skillfully on the dualistic nature of Nature.
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SECOND PLACE - WINNER OF:  $20.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE
Star Crossing

The sun passes through Aries,
The tulip time, then Taurus, bluebells.
Gemini looks both ways before
Crossing the sky.  Cancer wavers,
Leo roars a challenge.
Then shy Virgo tiptoes forth.
Libra balances the scales, but
Scorpio plots revenge.  Swift
Sagittarius canters in.
Stern Capricorn stands fast.
Water-bearing Aquarius brings rain
For Pisces to swim.

Summer scrolls on to autumn,
Skirls into winter, and then
Into spring.  The sky-wheel
Has not changed its course;
Only we color inside different lines.
I remember the lost constellations
Hadrian’s companion Antinous
Carried by Aquila, and
Cerberus, brave guardian
Of Hades’ gates.  Only their names
Remain, fading lines of light
Like vapor trails behind falling stars.

Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

COMMENTS:  Mythology alive in the sky.  Excellent personification, and interesting narrative.  Richly steeped in astrological meanings, this poem brings the night sky alive and intertwines it with the changes of seasons, marked as of old.  Very skillful weaving of one image into the next, giving the poem an enviable seamlessness.  Wonderful words such as "skirls" give the poem a uniqueness.  Beautiful correlations between stars and seasons, ending in final lines like majestic chords.
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THIRD PLACE - WINNER OF:  $15.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE
EDITOR'S CHOICE
 
Imago

From flames of form
you flow in pirouette
circling the light
of an imagined sun
fluttering en pointe
on the forever of a breeze.
Chimerical dancer, lover
of the art of motion
turbulent emotion in storm
yet in sunlight a rainbow
arched in arabesque
curling your colors in carnality.

Capricious rhythms inscribe
this aerial ballet
as specters spiral from you
in rivulets of images
swirling strands of reality.
Once a child in toe shoes
mercurial passions matured
and you painted turbulent skies
in the glitter of your whispers
liquid lies, fluid truth
as you smear the sun
in the span of your wings.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Beautifully crafted poetry, with dense imagery, rich language, and joyful point of view.  Well done, poet!  Astoundingly kinetic, this poem leaps and crackles like firelight;  gorgeous opening lines spark a flurry of kaleidoscopic images.  Very nice usage of ballet terms to lend further feeling of movement to the lines;  one must also note the careful and excellent use of alliteration.  Amazing closing lines leave the reader feeling spent.
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HONORABLE MENTION - WINNER OF $10.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE.
Passion Primordial

Cathartic, the
Distinct rumblings
Deep within the
Belly of a
No longer dormant
Volcano
Spewing forth
Noxious gasses
Prior to
Bursting
At its seams
With molten magma

Lava flows
Long ago
Cooled and
Over-crusted with
Nutrient-rich ash
Innocuous incubus
Fertilizing a
Quiet mountain's
Virginal valley
Soon to erupt with
Lush, tropical
Vegetation

SJ Baldock, Lancaster, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Tense, dense, solid writing.  Wonderful word-choices, edgy fast-paced story-telling.  Heaving lines mirror the topic of the poem, with short-of-breath punctuation and line endings.  Poem-as-art is nicely done here, with the visual appeal of the poem matching the subject matter.  Very nice word choices to convey the cathartic change.
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OTHER POEMS COMMENTED UPON BY OUR JUDGE AND/OR EDITORS
=============
the sky smiled

heavens ceiling vanished
into the black
ice sky where
star diamonds shimmer
daylight long forgotten
frigid void
where atmosphere
once dwelt
no creature stirs
frozen motion
life stands still
the air shivers

a worldly welcome
for springs blanket
azure sky smiles
drops of sunlight
sprinkle the
awakening earth
arousing its
inhabitants with
renewed commotion
rebirth unfolding
life a-buzz
airs warm breath

Tim Floto, Scotts Valley, Ca, USA

COMMENTS:  Chill view written in precise, vivid language.  The sounds of this piece are strong in music and meaning, meant to be read aloud, again and again.  Beautifully simple in its images, yet complex in its subject, this poem artfully captures that "air shiver" turning into the smiling sky.  Wonderful choices of words to form unusual phrases and images.
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Upon the Back of Shu

and beneath
the calculating contraption
of Ra's eye
gold-flecked faces
of sunflowers
nod homage
drop seed-tears
of gratitude
into the fertile
brown belly
of Geb
to slumber

the dried tears
are infused
with tender life force
from Ka who cradles them
in his tender palm
until blessings of Isis
release them
into stiff-backed spines
of green genuflection
in flowering fields
beneath the bold
blue shoulders of Ra

Maryann Hazen Stearns, Ellenville, NY, USA

COMMENTS:  Lovely writing.  Gorgeous imagery.  This style is so very easy to read.
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Nature's Unpredictable Nature

Ashen clouds tethered to suspended sky,
Pulpmill smokestacks' cumuli
Tumble up a burnt mountain,
As the forest fire climbs
On back of the fanning wind,
And all falls down
Into our valley-haze,
Tucked away
By the mother of all
Climate change,
Keeping us - her children -
Praying for white wonder.

Snowshed's arsenal,
In sudden haste,
Melts away
Into the deep
Wells of spring.
The river will take more
Than its fill from glacial taps,
As people back away
From the danger of being
People
In the fearsome face
Of unpredictable nature.

Tanya Ruth Larson, Kamloops, BC, CAN

COMMENTS:  Fine writing.  Clear description, tense and direct, makes fear a reality.
============
Chrysalis

Ugly gracile caterpillar
banded in yellow
black and white
inches along
consuming protective
milkweed toxins,
monotonous journey
two to three weeks
growing plump, weary
emits a silken patch
under milkweed leaf
attaches in repose.

Dangling vulnerable
skin splits, drops
translucent green
chrysalis emerges
golden ringed
punctuated brown dots
camouflaged now
dreaming, changing
metamorphosis transparent
awakens breaking free
stretching mosaic
orange-black wings.

Kathy Paupore, Kingsford, MI, USA

COMMENTS:  Nicely described, in dancing language that brings science up close and personal, and makes the reader wish for more.
============
Pumpkin Harvest

During spring
pumpkin seeds are
deposited in the
moist, soft earth.
Over the course
of the next few months,
plants appear,
runners take root,
providing a green shade cover
during the summer months.
The leaves get bigger
hiding the brown ground.

At the end of the summer
the garden grows prolifically.
Fruits and vegetables are harvested
and made into scrumptious recipes.
But not the pumpkins.
They’re not ready.
Green gourds appear
seeming to grow bigger everyday.
Until the air gets chilly
and the gourds turn orange
a color like no other in the garden.
telling us it time to harvest.

Eileen Sateriale, Bowie, MD, USA

COMMENTS:  Good description of harvest time.  Love the phrase, "a color like no other in the garden."  Excellent cadence and rhythm, easy to read outloud.
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Cold Front

Autumn comes late
This far south.
Heavy heat hangs in the air
Still in early October.
This afternoon
The heat gains weight.
Dampness hangs in the air,
Clings like spider webs.
Drops show themselves before rain.
Gray dandelion puffs sail above.
The air rumbles.
Then comes the first cold gust.

Leaves are flying south.
The sky crackles,
Then the air releases its dampness.
A waterfall blots out the trees,
Drowns out all other sound.
When the air dries
It truly dries.
The fresh-washed scent remains
Even behind the puddles.
The heat is now in hiatus.
Autumn comes at last
Even this far south.

Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA

COMMENTS:  Feel the weight of heavy heat and fall right into this poem.  Tactile, sensual, and concrete in details.  Wonderful writing.
Hidden contests are not posted on our website, and are only seen by member poets.
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BEST POEM OF OCTOBER
JUDGE:   CRAIG TIGERMAN

A Fall

To look at leaves that once were poems
and poets: branches against which
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

in elm, oak, magnolia perfumes
the unfolding buds strangely twitch
to look at leaves that once were poems.

Faint greens harden to verdant gloom
a depth and strength, vascular pitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

bright, fiery hues, the verse consumes
balanced on stems, a poet's stitch
to look at leaves that once were poems

that tip and tumble: falling looms
a failing voice, worn, graveled hitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

The scattered forms at earthly tombs
are folded, crackled, the soil rich
to look at leaves that once were poems
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, TX. USA

COMMENTS:  This villanelle is a masterpiece, poetry at its best.  Death images laced with irony ("verdant gloom," "falling looms," "earthly tombs," "autumn blooms") are creative and striking.  Well-developed diction with a continuous flow of action words.  The experience of reading this poem takes one's breath away.  "To look at leaves that once were poems and poets" - A beautiful line that repeats throughout the poem giving it unusual depth.  This poem breathes colors and emotions, skillfully interweaving the two with the basic poetic concepts we all live with.  Beautiful comparison of nature with a poem and with poets, an unexpected contrast.  Excellent example of a villanelle, so well done the reader doesn't even realize that this is a contrived poetic form - it seems so natural.  Nice almost-rhymes between the "oom" ending sounds and "poems."
 
There is no immediate prize associated with a poem having been picked as the Best Poem of a particular month, only the knowledge that our editors picked it over all the other prize winners of that month.  However, all poems chosen for BEST POEM of each month in the year 2002 will be automatically entered in the BEST POEM OF THE YEAR 2002 competition, voted on by Sol Magazine Members at the end of the year.  The winners of that contest will be awarded prizes and will be invited to enter Sol Magazine's Poet Laureate 2003 Competition.


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SOL MAGAZINE'S VOLUNTEER STAFF:

CRAIG TIGERMAN, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
BETTY ANN WHITNEY, POETRY EDITOR
PAULA MARIE BENTLEY, FEATURES EDITOR
MARTHA KIRBY CAPO, ASSISTANT EDITOR
LEO F. WALTZ, WEB MASTER, PRIZE MANAGER, PHOTO EDITOR
MARY MARGARET CARLISLE, MANAGING EDITOR

SOL MAGAZINE'S OTHER VOLUNTEERS:

AMY SUTHON, PROOFREADER
JANET PARKER, PROOFREADER





 
 

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