And the winners are…

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I want to thank everyone who entered the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge. Thank you for joining me in this new venture, and thank you for sharing your work with me and my readers–it was a treat. And now, the Challenge has come to an end. The poems have been read. Votes have been cast. Scores have been tallied. That means the only thing left to do is announce the winners of the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge, which I am quite happy to do. So, without further ado:

1st Place: Clare Greene, “Juicy Love”

Clare’s poem will be the inspiration for a handmade book by Christina Gay.

2nd Place: Jenny O’Grady, “Folding Laundry”*

Avelino Maestas will create a unique framed photo based on Jenny’s poem.

3rd Place: Michelle Jordan, “Stink Bugs”*

Michelle will be receiving a unique handmade journal from Jenny O’Grady.

4th Place: Erika Ferrin, “Meat Dreams”

Erika will be receiving a $15 gift certificate to Powell’s Books.

Learn more about the prizes these amazing poets will be taking home.

*As stated in the initial challenge rules, the prize contributors were eligible for the challenge, but they are not eligible to win the prize they themselves have donated. Jenny O’Grady, who donated a handmade journal for the second prize, was voted into second place. To resolve this issue, the prizes for 2nd and 3rd place will be switched. Jenny will be awarded a framed photo based on her poem and Michelle will receive the handmade journal.


Lecture by Meagan Noel Hart

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Lecture

Sometimes
My words tumble from my tongue
and bounce like rubber balls
smacking my students’ foreheads
like concrete
rejected, they quickly fly away
and settle lost within the corners
of the room.

I wish my words would always flow like water
washing over their faces
causing sensitivity
to subtle changes in the air
and seeping in
through their pores.

Something from Nothing by Steven Moravec

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Something from Nothing

Not feeling it today
who cares whatcha got
knocking at the door
no answer, no one home
steppin up in spite of me—delivery

pen to page here we go
dodging thought of a rhyme
just don’t panic write it down
energy focused emotions abound
mission accomplished for now

Rules by Suzanne McAllister

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Rules

Temper is a wonderful thing. Don’t lose it.

Patience is a valued thing. Don’t abuse it.

Love is a splendid thing. Don’t misplace it.

Memory is a solid thing. Don’t disgrace it.

Childhood is a happy thing. Don’t harm it.

Youth is a fragile thing. Don’t alarm it.

Laughter is a necessary thing. Don’t forget it.

Tears are an important thing. Don’t regret it.

Friendship is a strengthening thing. Don’t bend it.

Truth is a shining thing. Do defend it.

Life is a welcoming thing. Dare to live it.

Death is a peaceful thing. Learn to forgive it.

Hope is a heartfelt thing. A gift we all give.

Faith is the cornerstone. By which we all live.

Dear ones to all the above, please to pay heed.

Laugh…love….cry
Live life indeed.

Future Preference by Tijuana Johnson

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Future Preference

Exposing myself to the outside world
makes way for much fatigue;
consolidating the hours to seconds
enforces pressure beyond belief. This
loyal campaign can only prevail if I
decide to pay it forward.
Running through this daily mission
deliberated my style and I can’t
stop rejuvenating this life-line
for the outside world is waiting.

Cancer’s Wings by Latonia Valincia

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Cancer’s Wings

There is this foul congress, a gathering of doctors
whispering about mama’s condition— don’t utter the “C” word
or say it aloud—cancer

carrying on its wings more crosses to build; blood clots
have travelled up mama’s leg splitting in twos to her lungs
and cancer is the subtext; and chemo has to wait for Coumadin

to labor like our laughter about memories stored-up in basins
of dirty water—mapping the miles that juxtapose where mama is
and where I type. Words are my habitual comfort

phone calls crumbs that don’t satisfy my need to see her eyes
airplane tickets— I can’t afford to buy another one. Gas priced
above my head and I’m chaired to a city I’ve never loved

mama’s hands too far to rub; gray strands holding to
her aging scalp I can’t braid; my son prays

I write, breathe and remember coffee cups and
mama’s contagious love for fresh white bread

What a Mess by Tom Carpenter

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What a Mess

He’s so bad
But he’s so good
That damn dog
My furry son

Random Shoe by Jane Sellman

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Random Shoe

A random shoe on the file cabinet
resting on its heel
stiletto actually
awaiting
the return of its owner
or at least its perfect mate.

forgotten in the midst
of a holiday soiree
AAAAAA—as is the elegant woman who hopped away in the night

it remains months later
waiting to be filed under “Heels, High”

or become a work of found art.

In my imagination, I see the docent, in sensible shoes,
pointing to it.

Murphy’s Welcome by Dayna Carpenter

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Murphy’s Welcome

caramel colored
puppy paws,
milk chocolate eyes,
rough-tongued kisses,
a strong toothy grip
and wagging tail,
he welcomes us home.

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