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FEATURED ARTICLES
(Note: Featured articles are located on their respective web pages and may also be accessed from the main Sol page.  If you click either of these, you will leave this edition's page.)

• WRITE - NOW
• WORKSHOP IN A COLUMN

• LETTERS
• FRAGMENT OF SKY - TRIOLET
• A SURVIVOR'S TALE - POET'S CHOICE
• ART & SOL:  SO SECRETS - EKPHRASTIC POEMS
• EDITORS' CHOICE
• RANDOM SUBSCRIBER DRAWING WINNER
• Staff info

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FIRST PLACE

1939

Were you there, too, while the world lay asleep -
or did you wake and watch and hold your peace
while spectacles and shoes became a growing heap?
Were you there, too, pretending with the rest to sleep
while dogs of war herded unsuspecting sheep
and a distant fragment of sky filled with frightened geese?
Were you there when the world could no longer sleep?
How could you wake and watch and hold your peace?

John E. Rice, Houston, Texas, USA

Shadow of a Drought

In his eyes there shone a certain shade of blue
Like a desert sky too long bereft of rain.
Though he said he would not leave, somehow I knew…
In his eyes still shone a certain shade of blue,
Just a fragment of sky, a half-tone off true.
When I offered help, he hid away his pain
Behind eyes that shone a certain shade of blue
Like a desert sky too long bereft of rain.

Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

Hope's Evening

Dark, roiling clouds obscured the sun
that yet emitted one beacon ray
of streaming, brilliant light.  Then it was done.
Dark, roiling clouds obscured the sun
but for the fragment of sky that won
the cleft and escaped from the boiling fray.
Dark, roiling clouds obscured the sun,
that yet emitted one beacon ray.

Lynne Craig, Terrell, TX, USA

Midnight Swim

During the night the sea becomes thicker,
the legs of the dreamer grow weak;
the eyes try to focus, the heartbeat grows quicker
for during the night the sea becomes thicker,
and stars in a fragment of sky start to flicker,
the outcome is no more than bleak!
During the night the sea becomes thicker
and the legs of the dreamer grow weak...

Maryann Hazen Stearns, Ellenville, NY, USA

The eye of Cyclops closes, earth knows night
For everything a season or a tide
A fragment of the sky withdraws from sight
The eye of Cyclops closes, earth knows night
And yet such things administered are right
No more a smiling iris opened wide
The eye of Cyclops closes, earth knows night
For everything a season or a tide

SJ Baldock, Lancaster, TX, USA
COMMENTS:  Mysterious in its imagery, inviting deeper ponderings of larger, more far-reaching patterns.
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The Call

My child, I see it in your eyes--
the distant places calling you,
if just a fragment of the skies.
My child, I see it in your eyes.
Alluring space forever cries
to search its wondrous depth anew.
My child, I see it in your eyes--
the distant places are calling you.

Roberta Pipes Bowman, Fort Worth, TX, USA
COMMENTS:  This bittersweet time of letting go is well described.
===========
Woodland Symphony

Musical maestros perch in ponderosa pine trees
Warbling scarlet tanagers serenade their young
Fragments of sky filter through tall canopies
Musical maestros perch in ponderosa pine trees
Notes: "ti, whee, zerri" create woodland symphonies
Chiming through the forest from dawn till dusk
Musical maestros perch in ponderosa pine trees
Warbling scarlet tanagers serenade their young

Lois Lay Castiglioni USA Galveston, TX
COMMENTS:  Great alliteration in line 1/4/7, excellent word pictures stimulating multiple senses.  Wonderful inclusion of sounds.  Excellent word choices.
==========
Window on a Taos Day

Past adobe roofs and struggling trees,
Higher than snow-topped Taos peak,
Fragments of sky dance and tease.
Past adobe roofs and struggling trees,
Clouds carry thoughts on the breeze
And invite words from my pen to seek
Past adobe walls and surrounding trees,
Higher than snow-topped Taos peak.

Betty Dobson, Halifax, NS, CAN
COMMENTS:  The poet comes to the foreground as the narrator of a pleasant moment.  She rises above the rigors of the form with clear particular language that well describes the scene.
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Not Quite the Same

Through paneled glass I spy the very same
Fragment of the sky I glimpsed with you.
Centenarian maples mat the clouds in frame
Through paneled glass I spy the very same.
Their leaves aflutter, whispering your name,
Flood long-lost memories back into view.
Through paneled glass I spy the almost same
Fragment of the sky I glimpsed with you.

Kathy Kehrli, Factoryville, PA, USA
COMMENT:  The impact of this poem is accentuated the  change of "very" to "almost," as hinted in the title.  Lovely word choice in "Centenarian maples," and "paneled glass."
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Obscurity

Shards of blue air obscure the rainbow's end
crystal clouds claiming our pot of gold...
...an orb of life's mysteries to transcend.
Shards of blue air obscure the rainbow's end
elusive fragment of sky, unopened...
...enveloping hopes and dreams we hold.
Shards of blue air obscure the rainbow's end
crystal clouds claiming our pot of gold.

Deborah H. Nunn, Atlanta, GA, USA
COMMENTS:  This poet proposes that our future is hidden, and our quest for fulfillment can proceed only by faith in what is now beyond sight.  She writes of dreams and wishes.  "Shards of blue air" is a wonderful visual effect.
===========
Let Me Fly

Looking for life's meaning
in a fragment of blue sky,
open weary eyes
looking for life's meaning
see all that is air,
gaze searches white clouds
looking for life's meaning
in a fragment of blue sky.

Kathy Paupore,  Kingsford,  MI
COMMENTS:  Lovely testimony about the very human desire to be free of problems that wear us down.  Nicely stated Triolet.
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Burdened

Mountains do not stand eternal,
Although they seem to do so -
For season turning season, autumnal then vernal.
Mountains will not stand eternal,
Rock crumbles in earth's relentless pull
Dropping fragments of sky shouldered long ago.
Mountains can not stand eternal
Although they wish to do so.

Jen Planxty, Arlington, TX, USA
COMMENT:  Nature's ways, powerful yet not indestructible are described by this poet, as she personifies the mountains. Lovely run of words in "autumnal then vernal...will not stand eternal."
===========
Artist's Medium:  Multimedia collage with torn photos and text

she rips out another fragment of sky
this one with steel gray clouds, a bit of blue
between the rocks, she'd begun to cry
she rips out another fragment of sky
he'd turned away, refused to even try
at that moment they were through
she rips out another fragment of sky
this one with steel gray clouds, a bit of blue

Terrie Leigh Relf, San Diego, CA, USA
COMMENTS:  The Triolet is a difficult form in which to express intense emotion.  This poet does it well.
===========
Stained Glass Afternoon

A kaleidoscope effect from taking fragments of sky
to reveal secrets the night securely conceals
creates spectral smattering illusions for eyes -
the clarifying effect of taking fragments of sky;
though an ultimate smearing of two destinies
blends colors black, and the paned canvas steals
the kaleidoscope effect from taking fragments of sky,
to conceal secrets the light starkly reveals.

Brady Riddle, Galveston, TX, USA
COMMENTS:  Intricately crafted, including the clever turnabout in the "repeating" lines 2 and 8.  Beautiful phrasings.
===========
Caught In The Middle

Compilation of words, forever infatuated
Miscellaneous phrases caught between layers
Between the layers, fragments of sky, mind so fixated
Compilation of words always so infatuated
Wriggling out of it all, I soon capitulated,
All intelligence drawn out into thin air and gone!
Compilation of words will never be enunciated
Miscellaneous phrases caught between layers.

Barbara Scroggins, Williston, VT, USA
COMMENTS:  This seems as much a comment about the formal aspects of the Triolet, as anything else.  Well described frustration with the limitations as the poet struggles with topic and form.  Nicely stated intelligent writing.
===========
Chicken Little's Little Legacy

Our tears fall hard like a fragment of sky.
When they collide, the universe is crushed.
The lost sun sets.  Even the stars must cry.
Our tears fall hard like a fragment of sky.
Luna's bright seas are no longer dust dry.
Her orbit is loosened, erratic and rushed.
Our tears fall hard like a fragment of sky.
When they collide, the universe is crushed.

Ruth Solomon, Fairhope, AL
COMMENTS:  This poet crafts her work well, using abrupt/harsh line endings to parallel the feelings of the poem.
===========
Jigsaw Formulations

Tree branches make a puzzle of the sky:
Formlessness formed into structure,
Though we cannot tell why.
Tree branches make a puzzle of the sky:
Each fragment of sky could make one cry
With wonder, no matter what the leaves obscure.
Tree branches make a puzzle of the sky,
Formlessness formed into structure.

George Stateson, Grand Prairie, TX, USA
COMMENT:  Memorable word picture.  An interesting and original composition.  Well-written.
===========
Glimpses

The darkest day may show a gleam of light,
Reflected in those eyes that still can trust
And search the clouds for something pure and bright.
The darkest day may show a gleam of light,
A fragment of blue sky, a hint of white.
When all the hopes of life seem ground to dust,
The darkest day may show a gleam of light,
Reflected in those eyes that still can trust.

Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA
COMMENT:  This poet hints that childlike trust can renew hope for a brighter future.  Soft words reflect the hopeful topic.
===========
Vertical Blinds

Glimpse the white striped fragment of sky
its distant grays ascend to blue
as I, window bound, subdivide
glimpse the white striped fragment of sky.
Blinds like bars imprison my eyes
binds me in each vertical hue
glimpse the white striped fragment of sky
its distant grays ascend to blue.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, Texas, USA
COMMENTS:  Gazing at unbounded sky from within confinement.  Nice approach to the topic that pushes the limitations of the form in a worthy way.
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Ice Cold

I cut your heart, bled your love dry,
Plagued upon your fears.
Mirrored in your eyes a fragment of sky.
I cut your heart, bled your love dry.
Frozen inside, I let you cry.
Dark clouds smothered your glossy tears.
I cut your heart, bled your love dry,
Plagued upon your fears.

M. E. Wood, Belleville, ON, CAN
COMMENTS:  This poet shows how easily emotions become intertwined in confusion.  Brisk and succinct, the combination of  brief repeating words work well to move this poem along.
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Lullaby

Her voice a languished lullaby
She's lost in her own miserable song,
Her fame a fragment of the sky,
Her voice a languished lullaby.
A tear reveals her sorrows
A life filled with sad tomorrows…
Her voice a languished lullaby
She's lost in her own hopeless song.

Mikaila Zeneth, Ridgeway, ON, CAN
COMMENT:  Poignant.  The poet invites the reader to sympathize with the plight of the subject of this strongly sentimental poem.

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This topic (A Survivor's Tale) was suggested by Sol Magazine Member Catherine Harper, from Austin, TX, USA.

We had many worthy submissions for this topic, too many to print here, and so published only those poems commented upon by the judge and editors.  We may repeat this competition later in the year.
============
FIRST PLACE:  Winner of a $15.00 electronic book gift certificate.

I Rain

Did I rain in grief, tears from a clear sky
sudden, unexpected, a cloudless squall
come and gone beneath a faint prismatic arc?

I consider the blue, the empty wide expanse
a slow path of sunlight as horizon blurs to dusk
shadows become night and darkness eases a pain.

Tonight I survive a world spinning without you
and in a clear, moonless sky I rain, silent and alone.

James M. Thompson, Baytown, TX, USA

Like the Phoenix

Thursday evenings we huddle, remember
cremation in the fire of sexual abuse.
Resurrection is desirable, but first
we must face and question memory.
What singles out one girl child,
not another for such initiatory rites?
Compelled to relive the flames, my sisters
of the blazing hair, urge courage;
facing pain naked, they say, leads to rebirth.

Pinfeathers sprouting into pinions,
plumage glistening like the phoenix,
we will arise, soar into the tawny-azure dawn,
beyond the scarlet trauma of our allotted fire.

SuzAnne C. Cole, Houston, TX, USA

Field of Existence

He suggested I write something true,
a tale of survival, known only to me,
something private that no one else knew.
I sifted softly through hidden debris,
sorrowful acts and pain that lay buried
then slowly I dredged up this dark memory:
my life at that time was much thinner and worried.
Misled and pregnant, all hope cast away.
Half starved and desperate, in darkness I hurried
into a snow covered field there grew hay.
I sobbed and devoured great handfuls in shame,
in darkness I grazed; Human-Cow. Now I pray
never again to revisit this pain
for this is one thing that I hide to keep sane.

Maryann Hazen Stearns, Ellenville, NY, USA

It Happened to Me

The father's secret lived captive behind the girl's locked lips
a squirrel in a chimney, mad to escape and powerless to go.
Imprisoned with walls of indignity and isolation,
the rodent shredded and scarred itself and her youth.

Then, in adulthood, unexpected as his first night's prowl,
the unspoken woman happened upon the key.
Easy as Ruby Slippers,
simple as There's No Place Like Home,
her throat unlocked her lips, unleashed his secret.
"It happened to me," she said. "It happened to me."

This is the truth: It happened to me.

Shannon Riggs, Honolulu, HI, USA

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Ekphrastic means a work of art based on another composition.  In poetry, this type of work takes as its theme a particular piece of visual art of any genre, virtually representing through poetic description something originally represented visually.

The following Ekphrastic poems were written about a work of art called "So Many Secrets," by Jasmine A. Hutchinson, posted in our Art & Sol Feature.
=====
FIRST PLACE - Winner of a $20.00 electronic book gift certificate.

Jeepers Creepers Peepers

This is what you see:
The eyes first moon-shot.
Then the shooting stars of dark lines
that burst across the surface of my cheeks.
Black, white, maroon. Two rings looped
through my ear. The funnel of my neck corded.
This is what you don't see: Green, yellow,
pink or blue. My heart, my hands, my home.
The way I dance alone at night on the front porch
to the crackling radio beneath swaying paper lanterns;
I've so many secrets to keep and no one to share them
except heat lightning and peepers of the creek.

Maryann Hazen Stearns, Ellenville, NY, USA

Your Face

a black and white portrait
charcoal lines etched in pain,
in your eyes so many secrets
that you hold in your soul
and so much grief
that beats in your heart,
desiring that which you tried
but could not embrace,
the unconceivable, the miscarriage,
the stillbirth, the malformed,
the missing, these are the children
that you could not keep.

Kathy Paupore, Kingsford, MI, USA

you don't want to know...

the things she knows, the shadows cast
by so many secrets, darkened pupils
dilated with bloated flesh that
refuse to name the ten-thousand
screams of hunger never sated; feed,
yes feed upon the haunted strokes,
the fevered welts of red, the trembling
of each bloody shield of overhanging hair--and yet
she wants you to taste the puff and swell,
the lines concave, convex, as leaning toward you
from the wooden slats of chair, her mouth invokes
a fullness of what you already know

Terrie Leigh Relf, San Diego, CA, USA

Half in Shadow

Face half in shadow,
eyes reflect light
yet turn toward darkness,
darkness that frames her face
on all sides but one.
She averts her eyes
from that one bright spot.
Face both young and old,
eyes showing yet concealing
some distant memory, some unknown pain.
So many secrets hidden behind those eyes,
eyes turned from the light.

Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA

Life's Burdens

No one really knows me.
There are moments of joy I could never explain.
There are seconds of terror I will never reveal.
I have had dreams dashed to ashes
and flashes of insight
in which I felt I knew all the answers
to every question every pondered.
No one could every really touch my heart,
or the things my eyes have imprinted there.
My soul lies buried deep inside.
It is weighted down with so many secrets
that the burdens of life are hard to bear.

M. L. Pezzuto, Maysville, GA, USA

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1939

Were you there, too, while the world lay asleep -
or did you wake and watch and hold your peace
while spectacles and shoes became a growing heap?
Were you there, too, pretending with the rest to sleep
while dogs of war herded unsuspecting sheep
and a distant fragment of sky filled with frightened geese?
Were you there when the world could no longer sleep?
How could you wake and watch and hold your peace?

John E. Rice, Houston, TX, USA
COMMENTS:  Superb, chilling, haunting indictment of a time when many preferred to sleepwalk through history.  A subject that's bit unusual for the triolet form, but well-exploited via the variations in the "repeating" lines.  This is aching in its language, choosing the most perfect words to convey so much more than just one meaning.  Iit is the sort of poem one reads and re-reads, and finds new and beautiful nuances in it each time through.  Excellent rhyming throughout.  Good use of probing questions which seem to fit the triolet form very well. Thoughtful work that forces readers to ask hard questions of themselves.
 

There is no immediate prize associated with a poem having been picked as Editors' Choice in 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 EDITORS' CHOICE of each month in the year 2003 will be automatically entered in the EDITOR'S CHOICE OF THE YEAR 2003 competition, voted on by Sol Magazine Members at the end of the year.

Once in a while we draw a name out of the hat and award a $10.00 electronic book gift certificate to a Subscriber and/or a Member Poet.  The winner in May was:  Leisa Pierce, Imperial Beach, CA.

Congratulations, Leisa!

Questions?  E-mail Mary Margaret Carlisle, Managing Editor: Sol.Editor@prodigy.net
Please refer to this page for Sol Magazine questions & email contacts:
http://sol-magazine-projects.org/prodigy/sol.magazine/question.htm
 
 

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