Title Poem Contest Winners!

just wrapped up its first contest--check out the winners!

First Place -- Teeter, by SeaPlume

This poem flows like the sea.

  Star LightI used to stare into the night
Reciting the words my mother taught me
I wish I may...
Cold seeping under the closed window sash, my fingers leave wet, misty marks
on the pane
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
Hoping you would be okay
Wild, reckless.
Trusting fate to bring you home
The crashI saw it happen. Miles away—a flash of light—No sound, like a movie
Dark clouds covering the milky way.
Now I sit
Watching this haunted star
No such thing as magic. 

Second Place -- rock bottom, ocean floor, by Sammur-amat

Third Place -- Winter's Words by BlakeCurran

  Wisdom ExtractedThey extricated my three-quarters wisdom
When I was not yet an adult, not yet
A legal all-grown-up. The cannula
And the ceiling slid away and were replaced:
Pain and manufactured atmosphere and a
Numbing over all of it. Take the analgesics.
They left behind their trail of surgical twine
And instructions and a woozy contemplation.
Rinse with warm saltwater. Use icepacks.
So I did.
They never forgot the price, the dollar-signs
Flashing, flashing, flashing in an epileptic fit.
Finish the course of antibiotics. Finish:
It was always about completion, I thought,
That satisfaction, that absence of absence,
And a few nights after I watched that film
With Keira Knightley and the new Spiderman,
And best of all Daisy from Luhrmann's Gatsby.
My wisdom was extracted, in some bizarre
And mandatory initiation ritual. Bed rest
Is recommended. I wanted to sleep, wanted
So badly to do something, but a side-effect
Was nausea and a sick worry pooled like pus
In the gap 

Honorable Mentions!

  Dance backwards, darlingA confession:
    ma, there are seahorses dancing in the library
Autumn has come to my hometown.
Today; cool, clear and sunny--
April, a stuttering fool.
3am, and kings slumber;
Sunday falls heavy,
eyes wet with gasoline.

 

The Old God, Savitrॐ भूर्भुव: स्व: तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं ।
भर्गो देवस्य धीमहि, धीयो यो न: प्रचोदयात् ।।
I.
The wind blew sand into your nonchalant soul,
and your heart coughed. I entered the circle
at night, and I was consumed by fire. I did not
know of you then. I have fractured myself into
a thousand souls: but they are all whole, for I did
see you in my absence. Yet you? - you
were sailing, and your head was
full of water light.
II.
I was significant when your mother poured out water
in a copper pot from a balcony; water, which
caught and held the moon, and then spilled over
with a quiet radiance. You wondered whether
the moon l  

I Found A Nose Outside The DoorMy love despises the rabbits.
(He who devours brains.)
A headless corpse. I bury it.
And consider:
Fluffy. Perhaps he is a (lovely) zombie cat.

 :thumb363557151:

This is Not All We AreWe are imprisoned, in an open cage,
and through the cage,
we’re the same.
We reach for infinity and
our arms touch briefly which
almost makes me think...
there must be something more.
Beyond the gate,
we can light the darkest night.
But I still believe that
sometimes the stars and the clouds
will explode alone...
without anyone waiting or
expecting something more.
They tried to tell us we’re
forever lost
but there’s beauty in the breakdown
and we are broken down...
into pieces.
But we must believe,
and hope and pray
and wish for something more.
We had promised ourselves lies,
inside our cage of secrets...
And so we try again,
like ugly birds in a beautiful cage,
to reach out to anything
or anyone else,
if only...
for a dream of something more. 

SW: She Knows Her Logic is Flawed"Crime?"
Infidelity!
"Sentence?"
Infertility!
...karmic victory.   Friend or Food?Sun-bathing reptiles
play french-kissing games with flies;
Friendship or breakfast? 

  You Linger on the MediterraneanDesperate to leave this home,
my August lover,
it is not enough to write
our latest love letters.
You’re killing yourself,
my August lover,
for seashine;
and the queen is calling
down by the riverside.
This poem is not about you,
my August lover,
(not anymore).
Forget tsunamis and Pompeii --
I don’t need to breathe
or Atlantis as a lover;
and the wind will blow
me and my monsters
by bridges to Babylon --
city of ghosts.
(And no, I won’t be sorry.)

Congrats, all!