Sol Magazine
www.sol-magazine.org
August 2004 Edition
 © 2004 Sol Magazine


Sol Magazine, A Poetry Journal:    An international organization of Members and Volunteers interested in the education of poets.  E-mail us at Sol.Magazine@prodigy.net .  For Submission Requirements and Membership information, visit: http://www.sol-magazine.org.

SPONSORS:
SOL MAGAZINE
& "ANONYMOUS"

JUDGES:
HELEN DAVID
MARY BURLINGAME
PAULA MARIE BENTLEY
BETTY ANN WHITNEY


STAFF DEDICATION
To the memory of Betty Ann Whitney's father, Charles E. Mitchell, of Zephyrhills, Florida, who passed away on August 7, 2004.  We will keep you in our thoughts and hearts.  (Betty Ann is our Poetry Editor.) 

 
DEDICATION: To poet, professor and human rights activist Lalo Delgado who recently died in Denver at age 73.  Widely regarded as one of the Chicano movement's premier authors, Delgado's poems and essays became internationally known as Delgado crusaded for humane treatment of immigrants and their families. 

FEATURED ARTICLES - August
Note: These links are on separate web pages and will exit you from the current edition.
  • Famous Poets: Lawrence Ferlinghetti
  • Glossary: "First Person:  Personal vs. Invented"
  • Poetry Works: "My Poetry: The What, Why, When, Where and How of It"
  • Poetry Works: "The Grammar of a Few Archaic Words"
  • Poetry +: Avonne Griffin
  • CONTENTS of this page:



    CELEBRATE THE USA:  JULY WINNER

    WINNER OF A $10.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE
     

    Texas—A World Apart

    He called me from Santa Fe,
    said, since you live in Texas,
    how about running over to Amarillo
    and checking up on my client?
    I said, I live in Houston,
    run over yourself, you're twice as close.

    She called me from Albany,
    said, how're things in the desert?
    I said, I'll try to find a desert dweller to ask,
    as soon as I finish figuring out
    how much my insurance will go up
    now that the flood plain includes my property.

    I've heard people say,
    You're from Texas and you can't ride a horse?
    Mountains in Texas? What are you talking about?
    I met someone from Canada yesterday,
    he said, Americans don't understand us.
    I said, I know how you feel.

    Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA

    COMMENTS:  Delightfully tongue-in-cheek, this poet utilizes the difficult mechanism of satirical, sarcastic humor to convey a keen to-the-point sentiment about the sheer size of Texas, not to mention its diversity.  Excellent touching-upon of many different points of view, from desert to flood to mountain to plain, with a gloriously hilarious closing rueful line or two.  The lines are spoken with a casual Texas tone.  Each stanza balances the next.  Details like flood insurance, mountains, and riding a horse are good examples.  Solid poem with attitude.


    LAGNIAPPE:  SUMMER FLOWERS
    JUDGE:  MARY MARGARET CARLISLE
    SPONSOR:  ANONYMOUS

    FIRST PLACE
    Winner of a $15.00 Electronic Book Gift Certificate
     

    Dragonfire

    Golden-freckled Stargazers glitter
    beneath the moon,
    green spines
    curve
    slightly downward,
    offer due respect
    to the cool blue
    sky-gliding disc
    of night.
    But,
    come daybreak,
    their eyes blaze
    ferociously, heads lift high,
    dragon scaled petals
    quail, thrum
    beneath
    the miniature roar
    of ruby-throated hummers.

    Maryann Hazen Stearns, Ellenville, NY, USA

    COMMENTS:  This lyrical poem is descriptive without being overburdened by too many adjectives.  The metaphor is fresh and original in it's lovely comparison of a flower to a dragon.  Color, sound and emotion build to the satisfying ending, although the reader might wish that this narrative go on for pages.  Exquisite precise word choices, deliciously succinct, that leave a sigh in the air as the poem is read aloud.  Well done!
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Fireworks

    The large clay pot on the patio
    spews forth moss roses,
    tiny tissue paper flowers in brilliant
    reds  pinks  yellows  oranges  whites.
    Each tissue paper blossom eventually
    folds in upon itself,
    shrivels into a black-brown knot,
    but not before a new bud pushes
    the dying bud aside as if to say
    Okay, you’ve had your turn,
    now it’s mine.
    And in a few days more blossoms
    burst forth in yet another dazzling display.
    A timed film of this array
    might look like fourth of July fireworks
    bursting into colors against a blue sky,
    then fading,
    then bursting again
    and again more fading,
    bursting, the whole summer.

    Carol K. Cotten, Galveston, TX, USA

    COMMENTS:  Fine conversational writing evokes a unique image of tissue paper flowers, reminding the reader not only of fireworks, but also of childplay with glue and crepe paper.  Cleanly written, with a well-described comparison.  Great ending with repetitions that burst and fade as the poem ends.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Violets

    They are not invaders
    who come only to host the butterfly,
    feed the dove and dark-eyed junco.
    Some may call them common,
    but notice how each bloom stands
    independent, how they scatter the lawn
    with sun-light lavender
    and under the elm deepen
    a more serious hue. There is no need
    to pamper this heart-
    shaped spreader, this survivor
    who will not be driven
    from its ground. Transplanted
    from my growingup place, two
    became three, became ten
    and more--the web
    of life in action. And in spring,
    the yard carpeted with unassuming beauty,
    I walk remote reaches
    on a trail of time--sink into
    a sea of purplechildhood.

    Judith  Schiele, Brandon, MS, USA

    COMMENTS:  An ode to the violet, this writer has a firm control over words, descriptions, comparison, as the reader is coaxed across the lawn into purplechildhood memories.  Well-done.
    ==========
    OTHER POEMS COMMENTED UPON BY OUR JUDGE AND/OR STAFF.
    ==========
    Cerulean

    Call them impossible, if
    You like.  Blue poppies
    Take care to propagate,
    It’s true – they demand
    Conditions and attention, a
    Certain amount of stubbornness.
    But hope blooms in
    Unexpected places; it rises
    From seeds the size
    Of black sand grains.
    Labor over it daily,
    Then suddenly you turn
    To find fuzzy buds.
    Eyes tired by endless
    Blares of scarlet and orange
    Soothe themselves in blue,
    As fresh and clear
    As scarves of sky.
    Silken petals coax tired
    Fingertips to life again.
    Forget Flanders.  Plant blue
    Poppies instead, and hope.

    Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA
    COMMENTS:  Excellent writing in this well-done "process" poem that takes the reader from seed to blossom.  Good descriptions endlessly draw the reader forward, ever forward to the fine ending.  Forget Flanders.  This poet rocks!
    ==========
    Dinner for Three

    Sun Loving
    Golden dewdrop shrubs
    Serve apricot sulphur butterflies
    Cups of nectar
    From lavender blue blossoms
    Then prepare a smorgasbord
    Of orange yellow berries
    To entice flocks
    Of scarlet tanagers
    Creating feasts of color
    For the gardener

    Lois Lay Castiglioni, Galveston, TX, USA
    COMMENTS:  Beautiful descriptions abound in this fine poem as the poet uses words as paint to flood her canvas with varying colors from a palette of golden, apricot, lavender-blue, orange-yellow and scarlet across the page to the delight of the reader.
    ==========
    Winged Artist

    Yellow and black
    Bumblebee's drone joins
    Raspy notes of cicadas
    As he dances among
    Crimson, saffron and salmon
    Blossoms of nodding hollyhocks
    Unaware that he's become
    A Garden Van Gogh
    Spreading pollen
    To create fertile seeds
    For next year's
    Palette of color

    Kay Lay Earnest, Smyrna, GA, USA
    COMMENTS:  Very beautiful description of a bumblebee, with a glorious backdrop of a garden.
    ==========
    Petunias In a Whisky Barrel  (a Neville)

    Petunias play on weathered deck
    where Mother Nature grooms
    majestic trumpet blooms.
    Extended throats, a bottleneck
    a periscope on sub
    emerge from wooden tum
    like shadows at a discotheque.

    Yvonne Byrd Nunn, Hermleigh, TX, USA
    COMMENTS:  Well rendered piece brings the reader into the scene immediately, and delicately describes nature.
    ==========
    Monet's Pastels

    Monet's
    tulips paint dawn
    hues, yellow illusions,
    pink promise, white dreams, blossom
    from brushes.

    Kathy Paupore, Kingsford, MI, USA
    COMMENTS:  Visually pretty with a certain amount of surprise in the last lines.  Nicely done comparison.  Excellent job of using each word for description in this brief, yet somehow not terse, poem.  A cinquain from a true master of the form.
    ==========

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    CLICHÉD MUSE

    Crazy like a Fox/Unbalanced as a spinning top

    FIRST PLACE
    WINNER OF A $10.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE

    The Call of the Fleeing Raccoon
    Hunted by a pack of hounds
    In a dense and thick wood
    Travels wily into the night,
    Unbalanced as a spinning top.

    David Craig Keele, Manchester, TN, USA


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    EDITOR'S CHOICE

    Sol Magazine's editors choose one favorite poem each month for the honor of EDITOR'S CHOICE.  Each EDITOR'S CHOICE will be automatically entered in the FAVORITE POEM OF THE YEAR 2004 competition, voted on by Sol Magazine Members at the end of the year.

    Nocturnal Flight of Fancy

    This is the night, that once in a blue moon,
    when ice-blue stars, like diamonds, fill the sky.
    Grand milkyway is bathed in soft azure
    each star sapphire reflects until the dawn
    all nature strikes a chord - sweet overture.

    No silver gray, but blue now washes dawn,
    and garden pools dyed blue - by ebbing moon.
    White dew-fresh roses painted with the light
    as pale blue tones are filtered from the sky,
    a treasure to behold one time - finite.

    A full moon twice – one month, no rain to mask,
    be watchful thirty days, look to the sky
    its lunar light must burn from dusk to dawn.
    No hiding midst the stars, behind a cloud.
    Yet, can science truly grasp the magic drawn?

    Mount up on wings as eagles, search the night,
    between the earth and sky, icy-blue veil
    now casts its phantom hue on small white cloud,
    and traps the tranquil morning in its spell,
    while daybreak flaunts a filmy shrinking shroud.

    Jeanette Oestermyer, Roswell, NM, USA

    COMMENTS:  Breathtakingly beautiful in its word-pictures and poetic craft.  Repeating ending-words hint at a sestina-type structure yet this poem is much more relaxed in structure and in tone.  Strong, alliterative language, filled with clear images and lovely connections.  A very visual poem.  Simile, alliteration and pleasing rhyme set a wonderful mood.  The reader glides through the heavens on the skirt of a blue moon, treated to a rare show starring blue in every tone and hue. This poems captures the essence of the contest theme.  Its good use of detail describes the deep overpowering blue and mystery of the night.

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    ONCE IN A BLUE MOON
    FORM: LYRICAL POEM
    JUDGES:  HELEN DAVID, MARY BURLINGAME
    SPONSOR:  SOL MAGAZINE

    FIRST PLACE
    WINNER OF A $10.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE

    Nocturnal Flight of Fancy

    This is the night, that once in a blue moon,
    when ice-blue stars, like diamonds, fill the sky.
    Grand milkyway is bathed in soft azure
    each star sapphire reflects until the dawn
    all nature strikes a chord - sweet overture.

    No silver gray, but blue now washes dawn,
    and garden pools dyed blue - by ebbing moon.
    White dew-fresh roses painted with the light
    as pale blue tones are filtered from the sky,
    a treasure to behold one time - finite.

    A full moon twice – one month, no rain to mask,
    be watchful thirty days, look to the sky
    its lunar light must burn from dusk to dawn.
    No hiding midst the stars, behind a cloud.
    Yet, can science truly grasp the magic drawn?

    Mount up on wings as eagles, search the night,
    between the earth and sky, icy-blue veil
    now casts its phantom hue on small white cloud,
    and traps the tranquil morning in its spell,
    while daybreak flaunts a filmy shrinking shroud.

    Jeanette Oestermyer, Roswell, NM, USA

    COMMENTS:  Breathtakingly beautiful in its word-pictures and poetic craft.  Repeating ending-words hint at a sestina-type structure yet this poem is much more relaxed in structure and in tone.  Strong, alliterative language, filled with clear images and lovely connections.  A very visual poem.  Simile, alliteration and pleasing rhyme set a wonderful mood.  The reader glides through the heavens on the skirt of a blue moon, treated to a rare show starring blue in every tone and hue. This poems captures the essence of the contest theme.  Its good use of detail describes the deep overpowering blue and mystery of the night.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Dragon Whiskers

    Stand and stare, seek it there, so high above.
    You know it comes with golden crumbs behind.
    Find it if you can, folded fan of ice.

    There!  There it is, a distant fizz in space,
    Spun like a flag, a scarf, a rag, a mane
    Caught in a wind that does not bend or breathe.

    Stone turns to stardust, burns at the sun’s touch.
    Vapor sublimes; sand climbs free; the tail grows.
    Is it a ghost?  A host of angels?  No.

    Night sky like a pool of ink, cool and smooth;
    Silver swash of comet’s tail; wash of light
    And dance of dark – these things mark time’s slow tide.

    Call it an omen, fall on your knees if
    You wish.  Call it a fish or falcon, sign
    Of birth or war on Earth.  It’s none of these.

    But call it cold stone, hold it in your eye
    And claim to know its name – then you will hear
    The dragon’s laugh, feel his staff on your back.

    Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

    COMMENTS:  Alliteration, assonance and rhyme sweep the reader through the night sky with the use of wonderful word choices that provide sensual as well as visual impact.  The dragon against the night sky is electrifying and a bit frightening with the reader being challenged to gaze, to grasp and contemplate this rare sky show.  The use of second person and the direct tone of this poem captures the reader's attention and keeps it until the end.  Consonance and internal rhyme, sets a percussive pace that keeps the phrases rushing forward.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Guiding Light

    As I drove east at twilight,
    the sun at my back, black clouds rose in front,
    clouds dark as the smoke from a hundred wildfires.
    (A scene typical of Houston summer weather,
    where "scattered showers" are truly scattered.)
    Not a drop of rain touched my car at ground level,
    but against the not-so-distant smokescreen of thunderclouds
    the presence of water drops was advertised
    by the brightest rainbow I had ever seen,
    a rainbow painted not in the typical pastel tints,
    but in crimson red and fiery orange,
    yellow bright as the sun itself,
    green brilliant as precious stones,
    blue the color of a clear sky at twilight,
    and true royal purple.
    The colors shone like jewels of light
    against the thunderclouds.
    The ancient peoples who said a rainbow
    formed the bridge to heaven
    must have meant a rainbow like this,
    a sight truly worthy of the gods.
    That brilliant arch, ever retreating,
    like an entrance to some royal fairy courtyard,
    led me home before the moon rose.

    Katherine Swarts, Houston, TX, USA

    COMMENTS:  Alliteration, simile and metaphor bring a touch of fear and mystery to this smoke and mirror magic show of Mother Nature.  An ominous sense of foreboding evaporates into the sky to form of a rare, vibrant rainbow so brilliant as to portend a passageway to a mystical world, but instead guides the awed driver to the safety of home.
    ==========

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    FANTASY/REALITY
    JUDGE:  BETTY ANN WHITNEY
    SPONSOR:  SOL MAGAZINE

    FIRST PLACE
    WINNER OF A $10.00 ELECTRONIC BOOK GIFT CERTIFICATE

    Body Language

    As a kid
    My fantasy
    Was to eat
    Banana splits
    Every day
    But now I know
    My cholesterol says whoa

    Lois Lay Castiglioni, Galveston, TX, USA

    COMMENTS:  Excellent use of the Whitney form.  This humorously portrayed scene ends with a real a power-punch.  Vivid painting of a moment that double-backs on itself.  Nicely done.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    A Thorny Problem

    Unicorns
    in the garden
    look splendid
    with golden horns
    but are at
    heart still grazers
    and roses are expensive.

    Elizabeth Barrette, Charleston, IL, USA

    COMMENTS:  Light and lively, with a lovely use of both language and irony.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Phobia's Awe

    On life's trail
    Dread and terror
    Compulsive
    And persistent
    Fear inside
    Yet we stay calm
    Underneath the masks we wear.

    Carol Meeks, Artesia, NM, USA

    COMMENTS:  This poem is to the point, and its closing packs a surprise.  Well-written universal expression of emotion.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Euphony of Sound

    Symphony
    borne on the breeze
    nature’s notes
    through distant spheres
    enchanting
    woodlands and lakes.
    Man’s music smacks and rattles.

    Jeanette Oestermyer, Roswell, NM, USA

    COMMENTS:  Powerful contrast in this succinct work.
    ==========
    HONORABLE MENTION
    Pastures

    I am yet
    a wild pony
    fresh as milk
    energetic
    running free
    to the wild sea
    in dreams of my still young heart

    Lynne Craig, Terrell, TX, USA

    COMMENTS:  Delightful metaphor.
    ==========

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    Questions?  E-mail Mary Margaret Carlisle, Managing Editor: Sol.Editor@prodigy.net

    SOL MAGAZINE'S 2004 VOLUNTEER STAFF

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    Phone number:  281-316-2255
    Call weekdays 9-5 (CT) (1400-2200 GMT or UTC)
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    SPONSORSHIP

    We hate to ask, but providing prizes for our winning poets is an non-ending task.  Over the years we've offered many locking diaries, hundreds of book gift certificates and bookmarks, uncounted books and chapbooks, and even a few picnic baskets!  Only about one-fourth of our prizes come from Sponsors, and the rest are donated by co-founders Leo F. Waltz and Mary Margaret Carlisle.  Please consider adding your name to the list.  Become a Sol Sponsor.  Write to Sol.Editor@prodigy.net for more information.