Nate Jacob has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2021 Poetry Contest Mourning Doves Looking back, the choice seems obvious. A man is given the chance in life to select from a pantheon of plumed angels which will carry his tune forever on winds. My father, from what I can only imagine was a young age, took to mimicking the mourning dove with two gentle hands cupped just so together and a breath gently pressed from pursed lips: two poofs, he blew . . . and blew . . . and blew He taught that … Continue reading Mourning Doves by Nate Jacob→
Elizabeth Nowak has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2021 Poetry Contest Dear Mi-Kwon Before the whole world went mad, you wrote to ask about my life in beautiful America. I could not then describe in words we both know how gray the sky is. There is little these days except skinny arms passing money and brown bags through a hole in the wall of the Big Red Liquor store. I’ve grown sick watching it and the chitter of birds outside my window. I am thinking often of that day in spring when you took … Continue reading Dear Mi-Kwon by Elizabeth Nowak→
Zeina Azzam has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2021 Poetry Contest Forgive Me For lying to the teacher in the school yard Talking ill of my friend behind her back For making an excuse to leave early while visiting my mother in her sick bed For walking away from a lover without explanation, running from remorse I have felt guilty about slapping my small son’s hand so many years ago About acting impatient, bitter, callous, spiteful, unfriendly, or mean with those I love and those I don’t. These thoughts return often like mosquitoes in … Continue reading Forgive Me by Zeina Azzam→
Victoria Korth has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2021 Poetry Contest Mr. Abraham You would unstick huge floor-to-ceiling windows with a metal-clawed broom handle, soak the floor where someone vomited, clear sleeted walks while we waited in line, quiet the boiler, keep water flowing in fountains, walk around the school’s perimeter in faded green pants, head down, and into the basement while in the classroom, at the window or in the hall I watched you. Although I have lived the question of how one person knows the other and accepted that we did not, … Continue reading Mr. Abraham by Victoria Korth→
I’m not squeamish about getting my hands dirty, knees soiled, but I never thought I’d be writing about garden club ladies. The county Garden Club (founded 1935) recently donated their records to the local Historical Society of which I am a member. By happenstance, I began reading the Minutes book for 1937-1939 and was immediately taken by the many and varied activities of the group. Beside the flower growing and arranging and public space beautification that you would expect, the club took on many civic causes such as supporting rural dental and immunization clinics, sponsoring … Continue reading The Garden Club Ladies Visit the Historical Society by Fred Wilbur→
William Prindle has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2021 Poetry Contest Apologizing to Ferlinghetti You never took the deal the hand America dealt what did you have to lose anyway father and mother dead or gone mad you spoke French first so why not bat the English words way out there fungoes of the mind screw the form screw the State just write and how you wrote wrote and sold sold like hell turned on the Lights published Howl screwed the Court didn’t thank the Academy that did … Continue reading Apologizing to Ferlinghetti by William Prindle→
What man would not look back when claiming a celestial voice commanded him to go away from pleasures of wine, games of chance, lust, secular music, dance, art, poetry? The men who deny life’s gifts and joy, who kneel and coerce in the name of one unknown, unseen, beyond reason or proof, men who control by unified power and fear deemed it so that woman should not turn lest she turn to a pillar of salt. The greater choice is to turn, to escape the clutches of piety and power at any cost, becoming salt … Continue reading Salt by Les Brown→
feels this way. Familiar like the abstract place you grab for when you’re curled in despair on your own kitchen floor begging to go home, not knowing where you mean. No matter whose hair and breath lend the other pillowcase its scent, which farm grew this squash so delicately sliced, whose face you lean toward, lips to their ear, cupping a joke. No matter which gone person you scan the crowd for year after year. Whitney Hudak is a CNM and poet living in Newport, R.I. Her work has appeared in Burningword Literary Journal and … Continue reading Each Year by Whitney Hudak→
I have always thought that John Donne’s metaphor of the drawing compass in “Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” one of the most ingenious in English poetry. Not simply about two lovers parting, it describes a coming together through love. Another metaphor I greatly admire (along with everyone else) is the choice depicted in “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. These two ideas in juxtaposition seem to conjure the structure of ‘theme and variation’ so elemental to art: the certainty of the circle with the uncertainty of lines pointing in different directions. Not exactly opposites, perhaps, but … Continue reading Simple Instruments by Fred Wilbur→
In school we learn to lie down in the face of Evil from the skies. “Take cover,” the first commandment during air-raid drills as we duck under our desks, then “All clear.” No one dares to say that with or without these precautions, if a bomb fell, we’ll all be toast. All day we wait on the edge of seats for firehouse sirens to sound the alarm. Part of the Civil Defense system, we Boy Scouts chop trees, clear brush for a circular space deep in the Poland forest, use the logs for an … Continue reading The Cold War in Poland (Ohio) by William Heath→
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