Judged by Polina Barskova
First Place
An almost kiss
by Henry L. Shifrin
Wild Poetry Forum
This little man, an inch or so under five feet, his scalp–
a sea of scalloped skin–closes his eyes as a shadow
of nurse passes. The passing is like a long, high branch’s
sweep. She loosens the downy strap of his robe and from
his shoulders a feather seems to circle down. His taut, urine
skin—skin pulling in the ribs to show—is moon to the naked
bulbs above. A smell of shit, shorts that must be
washed—a flavor of regret the fan blows. His flabby fingertip of cock
seems to have no mind to harden when her breasts press
against his face. She scrubs his back. Then looks at her watch, places
a hand under his chin, tilts his head so she can see into his eyes.
His lips curl as if to pucker; no, only a facial tremor. A smile.
"Enjoyable combination of crudeness of the subject and gentleness of the gaze expressed through the intensity of details: there is a very active, insistent, and compassionate eye at work here.
Also, very curious approach to laughter, the poem makes one grin--though with somber, sober melancholy." --Polina Barskova
Second Place
The Gray Wolf
by Douglas Pugh
The Write Idea
his skin no longer
binds muscles
rather, these days, he basks
in the setting sun
sucking old marrow between old tales
though sometimes
he can see doubt in the cubs’ eyes
nothing fits any more,
teeth drop from sockets,
legs from hips
why even the ground is not shaped to him,
argues against his nestle
though the naps seem longer
and the days short
the sun is setting
awkwardly
on a new trail
"Very sparse, non-sentimental poem. Its beauty is in its absence of overwriting. The poem perfectly follows in form its matter--brutal, minimalistic. And the conversation about the animal is convincingly bridged to/moves into the landscape." --Polina Barskova
Third Place
The Butterfly Effect
by Chris Freifeld
Delectable Mnts
Each deed, a unit of
measurement, a strung
bead
Wooden and weighted
with its own baggy
heft
Its signature
markings, concentric
effects
A pebble plays the rippled water harp
Where is the intention kept?
Hidden in the gears, perhaps
revealed in every stroke
of the machine or packed
in dreams or both, I think,
but mostly in between
The soft connective tissue
that we mean.
"Very subtle, light, delicate poem. Given its subject could be more more didactic--one imagines, but instead it lulls rather than preaches. As a visual text, as a sheer shape it's beautiful." --Polina Barskova
Poems that placed for IBPC October 2012
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