Winners
Year 3 LIKE
YESTERDAY I
remember the heaviness of my dad's pants
and belt I
see my legs aren't growing anymore, and my
belt has been His
habits, bequeathed to me, become a shirt I
put on every morning. --
Submitted by Renton Rathbun from Taylors,
SC The
two winners for January A
MOTHER'S HANDS One
yellow morning I watched you asleep in
your bed, Your
hands that would hold me, now torn with
age, Oh,
sweet giver of life, Now
I am learning what it is to be a
woman, --
Submitted by Meghan Curley from Long
Beach, NY The
winner for February WHAT
HAPPENED TO JOE? Latte's,
Mochas, Cappuccinos abound --
Submitted by Tamara Sue Bernick The
winner for March HER None
have known the love I've shown Few
have lost or count the cost Some
may see each rose, each tree --
Submitted by James Patrick Cole The
winner for April I
probably should have brushed them Yes,
I can stand the ugly The
pain will throb and travel --
Submitted by Goody Quam The
winner for May A
shadow moves across the street A
warrior watching through the night When
daylight breaks, with lamps no more Sleep
and eat and dream all day --
Submitted by Kathleen C. Fijalkowski The
winner for June GETTING
AWAY FROM IT ALL We're
going on vacation to visit the beach I've
ordered the news to be forwarded each
day We've
hired a kid to mow the lawn, Our
swimsuits and play clothes are all in
bags, There's
just one little thing that keeps nagging
my mind, --
Submitted by Cynthia Hammond The
winner for July I
rise from my bed at five each day Fed
and dressed I finally go I
pull onto the freeway ramp With
bumper to bumper traffic But
that's not to be, I soon find out --
Submitted by Margie Sue Hess The
winner for August Packing
up the night before The
photographs are in my hand Our
dog that died and the rat that got
loose It
seems too fast that I have grown Well
it's time to go, the truck's pulled in I'll
scatter photographs along the way --
Submitted by Leslie Stewart Schafer The
winner for September Summer Sweaty
dances, heady flings, Autumn Sweet
romances, golden bands, Winter Children,
grown, have all moved out, Spring A
single glance, a warming spark, --
Submitted by Rebecca Adams The
winner for October "Sir
Chuck the Pang
Exterminator" When
woes beset maturing joints, One
patient brings her aching back, Alas,
no sooner that that's licked, A
dauntless smile Sir Chuck displays, "Oh
thanks," we hear the patient blubber, Then
wham!---the front door slams wide
open, "I
need massagin'!" Elroy claims, The
sound machine has one black knob, The
buns both seem quite fit for cookin', But
Chuck is not so quickly thwarted, With
ample wads of cellulite, One
moment Elroy moaned and grunted, --
Submitted by Timothy R. Oesch, MD. The
winner for November-December A
NEW YEAR CHEER They
say that time can heal all wounds Or
antics we perceived to be Oh
time's a curing thing all right, --
Submitted by Richard J. Bischoff
Category: "Moms and Dads"
And how they seemed inseparable like
varnish on cabinets.
I remember his shoes being this
unobtainable size
That I could fit almost my whole arm
inside.
And the smell of leather and work and
musk.
And then, like a great idea at three in
the morning,
The memories walk away in code words and
pictures,
vanishing on the tip of my
tongue.
around my same Dockers for as long as I
remember them
Draped like peanut butter over my jelly
chair.
My shoes neatly sleeping under have been a
half size bigger
than my dad's since the tenth grade, and
my childhood
rolls around the back of my brain like
mouthwash.
I laugh through my nose like him. Words
interrupt my vocabulary
Like "davenport" and wondering what "ails"
this world.
And as I watch his face wrinkle with
laughing like shattered glass
and his eyes that remind me of babies,
I am terrified that I won't grow to be
exactly like him.
e-mail: beefoven@gateway.net
Category: "Moms and Dads"
your eyebrows crinkled in certain
dream,
and I remembered a time when I was small
enough
to curl up inside those arms,
to breathe mother's breath.
I would feel your body rising and
falling
with that same delicate rhythm beating
beneath my own skin.
retain some of their tender youth in
mine.
Those artist hands that shaped me,
that would brush hair from rain-streaked
cheeks,
that took my shoes off when I was lost in
embryonic sleep,
that cradled my insecurities,
that sharpened my defenses.
time has settled in your crevices
and lost itself in the lines of your
palm
that told stories of lives gone by,
of smoke-soaked skin -- the sweetest scent
for me.
Fingers that curled my ponytails,
that broke picking roses for my hair.
Hands that held a legacy of stories time
forgot.
to be a mother of a thousand breaths
And I am like your fingers,
an extension of your hands.
e-mail: DRGNFLIE@aol.com
Category: "Coffee"
But poor ol' Joe is nowhere to be
found.
Espresso's "the thing," "all the rage,"
they say.
Do you take yours skinny? Tall or
Grande?
If it keeps you up way past your
bedtime,
Drinking "Decaf," instead, is your best
line.
But if, like me, you don't go for this
stuff,
Then join my quest, mind you it may be
tough.
Our mission's quite clear, we just want to
know
What happened to our plain ol' Cup o'
Joe?
from Aloha, OR
EMAIL: tsbernick@bpa.gov
Category: "Springtime"
unbidden from my eyes
None have seen the grass so green
or perfect azure skies
I laugh out loud at those young and
proud
who think they own romance
And humbly sing my ode to spring
and dance the new spring dance
of nature's loss of time
Few can say they've ruled the day
or conquered every climb
I challenge all both great and small
to take her by the hand
And dance the dance that brings
romance
and feel the fires fanned
and all the great outdoors
Some will gaze through mist and haze
the land, the sea, the shores
I will take her hand and make
the most of every chance
And humbly sing my ode to spring
and dance the new spring dance
from Spring Lake, NC
e-mail: greywolf@netquick.net
Category: "Toothaches"
Flossed and gargled too
Then I wouldn't have these discolored
pegs
And breath like an old shoe
Eat mints to kill the smell
But when I get a toothache
It's nothing short of hell
Makes you wish that you were dead
I've got to find a dentist fast
Before I amputate my head
from Warwick, ND
EMAIL: ksquam@stellarnet.com
Category: "Cats"
Under quiet lamplight's glow
Seeing only padded feet
Like footprints in the snow
For a difference in routine
A simple motion through the light
That makes ones eyes go mean
I hear a scratching at my door
Slender, sleek and witty waits
To enter through my palace
gates
My shadow rests before tonight
When mice and predators come to play
My shadow waits behind the
light.
from Las Vegas, Nevada
e-mail: kathleen.fijalkowski@nellis.af.mil
Category: "Vacations"
We'll all be gone for more than a
week.
Our bags are packed, filled to
overflowing
With flashlights, batteries, and lantern
lights glowing.
Packed all the toys so the kids can
play.
We're taking the dog, and both the
cats
Instead of leaving them all at the
vets.
But decided to take the houseplants
along.
Our water is bottled and packed in the
car,
As is a port-a-potty, so we can travel
far.
The kids' swimming floats, separated with
tags,
A camp stove is in there, a fridge to keep
things cool,
A few books to read before returning to
school.
Am I leaving any trivial thing behind?
If I am trying to get away and be
free,
Why am I taking it all with me?
from Greenville, South Carolina
EMAIL: cleech88@hotmail.com
Category: "Traffic"
bleary eyed and half asleep
I stumble through my morning tasks
so weary I want to weep
from the apartment to my car
and though I've hurried, done my best
I know I won't get far
With a heart so full of hope
That maybe this will be the day
that I finally learn to cope
so thick I want to shout
"I've had enough, it's way too long
Please, just let me out!"
and I think it's really a sin
to leave for work at six a.m.
when I don't arrive till ten
from St. Louis, MO
e-mail: msuehess@earthlink.net
Category: "Leaving Home"
scattered boxes on the floor
sifting through my memories
brushing off the used to be's
oh yes, that time was really grand
and there I am in my pink dress
my hair in bows, what a mess
and oh, there's Felix, our pet goose
These are moments I'll always treasure
this sentiment, too sweet to
measure
to now be living on my own
far away, so far from here
oops, there goes another tear
I'll have to shake this state I'm in
I'm on my way, so here I go
waving sweetly, so they'll know
to keep the memories of
today...
from Lake Worth, FL
e-mail: lurlei1@evcom.net
Category:
"Love-the second time around"
Touches, kisses, highschool rings.
Burgers, baseball, fairs and rides,
Sun and water, truths and lies.
Lots of break-ups, lots of starts,
Overactive, pulsing hearts.
Long, slow walks while holding hands.
Traded secrets, sacred vows,
Kissing in a brand new house.
Rocking babies, locking eyes,
Building up a paradise.
An empty, silent, chilly house.
Lifetime partners in their graves,
Lonesomeness that comes in waves.
A waning moon on frozen snow,
John Denver on the radio.
That wakes an ancient, dusty heart.
Paper kisses, herbal teas,
China cups on balanced knees.
Waltzing slowly up the stairs,
A second chance with one who
cares.
from Grand Ledge, Michigan
e-mail: Salem667@aol.com
Category:
"Doctors, Nurses, Hospitals"
with loathsome pains at crucial
points;
to get relief, right now---not later,
call Chuck, the Pang
Exterminator.
which creaks and cramps and seems to
crack;
Chuck kneads her spine like doughy
bread,
'till every thought of pain has
fled.
the patient says her neck is cricked;
she holds one ear flat on her
shoulder,
a mournful sight to each
beholder.
he reaches for magnetic rays;
the sound machine cranks into gear,
and muscle cramps all flee in
fear.
her neck now rolls around like rubber;
her grateful eyes are all aflutter---
no verbal praise seems fit to
utter.
in staggers Elroy, blindly gropin';
"My back! My back!" he whines aloud;
it's plain to see the man's not
proud.
plops on the floor, and there remains;
and in Chuck's mind, there's no
mistakin',
that this big turkey's simply
fakin'.
which Chuck turns 'till he feels it
throb;
he lifts the wand, which now is
spittin',
and tries to pick the spot most
fittin'.
but not with several others lookin';
and Elroy's shoes are much too thick,
to melt his toenails to the
quick.
he knows how every nerve is charted;
he looks, and stares, and
contemplates,
until his sharp brain
compensates.
there shows a site which looks just
right;
the tailbone rises bare as brass,
a target Chuck cannot surpass.
the next, his feigned distress was
stunted;
he stood erect, completely cured---
a second treatment was
deferred.
from Oak Ridge, TN
EMAIL:
oeschplace@sprintmail.com
Category: "The New Year"
But I prefer to say
In truth that time can wound all heels
And haunt them in a way
That makes them sorry, if it happens
That they have a conscience.
Most of us, we can recall
Contributing to nonsense.
Funny when we did them,
Looked at analytically,
We wish that we could rid them
From our guilty memories
And bring on absolution
Which each year we try to do
And make a resolution.
Although it goes so fast,
Here's hoping that your New Year is
Better than your last.
from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
EMAIL: bischoffrick@hotmail.com
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