Many thanks to those who participated in making nominations for our IBPC submissions this month. From the great selections available, we've chosen the following and we thank them for allowing us the pleasure of having them represent WPF in the competition.
To our entrants, please look over the poems. The poems will be submitted on Februay 3rd, as they appear below. If the entrants have any edits or corrections to the poems, please send them to me at email@example.com
by the morning of February 3rd. If you come upon this notice late and you have edits, please send me any edits anyway. I will try to have the submission updated before it's sent to the judge.
As a reminder, if there are no or not enough IBPC nominations in any given month from the membership, we choose from the eligible poems (those poets who gave permission) from the prior month. So, if your poem was not selected this month, please know that you still might have an opportunity for it to be submitted next month.
Congratulations to our entrants and best of luck in the competition!
February 2017 IBPC Submissions from Wild Poetry Forum
Poem # 1
Title: Clown Suite
Author: Sergio Ortiz
If I learn to paint existence,
if I keep a Bertold Brecht in my drawer,
(Man is born in the Bertold Brecht of his shirt.
Children's eyes and anxiety knock on his door)
this gulp of Japanese rum would be
just like a son of a bitch rose.
But this small insatiable country
of drunkenness promised us transience,
Pedrito, almost like a back-lit photograph.
It gave us many blank pages and some scribbles.
It also peed in our socks.
That's why I love clowns.
For their contribution to the theory of horror,
for their wide and happy shoes,
and for the Bertold Brecht that redeems the usury
of dwelling in this rough alphabet.
Poem # 2
Title: Dust Bowl
Author: Michelle Lepori
I clamored to the drop, spilled like a slinky compelled
in purest child’s play. Backbone bending, I bowed to you,
pooled transparent springs for thirsty needs. Over the edge,
I loved you like a waterfall. Lush for your hunger,
I knelt to be gnashed on the moons of your teeth. Offered
wishbone limbs as lightest ores to sail iron seas.
Pocket-placed in cotton walls, I was stuck in the seams,
a curiosity conquered. Lost, I went to seed.
Slipped, I saw your silhouette fade in the setting sun.
Relentless to reach you, I turned, bloomed clouds for shelter.
But the hazing mirror of distance remained. Alone,
I wilted into fault’s crumbled earth and trembling winds.
Light, I tumbled into the bended mirage, then laid
myself before you, a desert sand to warm your feet.
Poem # 3
Title: Theories of Us
Author: Erwin Fernandez
When I hold you it as if I held
primal matter in my arms, galaxies
not yet blossomed into spirals.
Immeasurably hot and dense
even our electrons splash like rain
on the windshield of the universe.
Let us leave echoes for scientists
to discover for ages, a cosmic song
that radiates into the depths of space.
Let them wonder at our shadows
they cannot sense and yet burst
with the molten abandon of meteors.
I want to be the spark that ignites
the singular into realms of possibility
that even light itself cannot catch.