spring pulseSpring Pulse Poetry Festival poetry festival

PoeARTry North 2018 Contest Winners

First Prize

The Hand by Beth Jackson
The Hand by Beth Jackson

The soft slip-slap and shuffle.

The rush and the risk.

The poker-faced opponents.

The moments of loss,

but of grace, that too,

in those smiles from sweet Lady Luck.

The hand we’re dealt,

that’s all there is.

Courage, my friends.

Play on.

Second Prize

The Photographer at Eby Pothole by Sue Gamble
The Photographer at Eby Pothole by Sue Gamble

The photographer
at Eby Pothole quiet,
timeline geographer

Camera click clicks
soft beauty, almost divine
where birth and death mix

Blue water, sunshine
breezes soft over trees green
death cannot define

Camera click clicks
like a digital fine wine
sees mirrors, does tricks

Timeline geographer
at Eby Pothole quiet,
the photographer.

Third Prize

After You by Catharine Cribbs
After You by Catharine Cribbs

Roadside sacrifice
rowdy ravens celebrate
holy communion

Three Honourable Mentions

#MeToo by Michael Stacey
#MeToo by Michael Stacey

innocence buds   in spring
seeks a stage
attributes   talent   on display
catch attention   and an eye
desires butt   against desire
favours asked   demanded
a line   once crossed
free fall
should you   or   no
what comes with acquiescence
in negative   no path to sun
in both   anger and regret
no blossom   no bask   no shine
imminent decline
evolution in descent
no longer fresh   innocence stolen
energy   excitement   withered
dreams   once inspired
shrivelled   brittle   dry
life shattered

Luminous Past by Denise C. Ribson
Luminous Past by Denise C. Ribson

Beacon of hope

Trepidation’s path made bright

Calming fears

And sharing news from afar

Lodestar to the afterlife

And first light to the newborn eye

Warm embrace for a lonely soul

Companion in prayer

Future Enlightened

Luminous Past

Joseph's Coat by Claudia Radmore
Joseph’s Coat by Claudia Radmore

we live with what can not be shed
the honeysuckle we once planted

with our mothers or that quick
intake of breath when we lightly brush

our hand over a newborn’s fontanel
we won’t lose how we learned to love

yet special offers spam or otherwise
have slipped beneath our skin

dead zones in Lake Erie
deforestation in Temiskaming

so here we are: survivors clothed in plastic
in a biosphere warming beyond endurance

though we’re several parts star
we squander our brilliance

flaunt bitcoin and sequin
rather than preserve for our children

the colourful coat
of our earth