The  2005  Harvest  of  Poems


                                                                First Prize  -  Poet's Purse Category
                                                                                    Beatrice Lagos - Petaluma, California


THE GOBLET

From the long-haired man's lungs
Air came out as distant
Sea-nourished wind
And through the pipe
Into unshaped chemical mass
Twisting among flames.
He smiled, seeing a warm
Setting-sun's ray trapped
In the finished goblet
With his breath.

We bought it after watching light
Turning into gold dust
Through its yellow translucency.
We played with reflections
Burgundy and white wine
Brought into the cup
Warm love-satisfied lips
Freshened many nights
Touching its hard edges.

I'm leaving the goblet,
Where I'm going now
There's no use for glass...
Looking at cascading golden powder
Through an artist's clear frozen breath,
You'll remember me and my taste for love.






                                                                Second Prize  -  Poet's Purse Category
                                                                                    Susie Joyce - Pacific Grove, California


    
Only Words


If this poem could please the eye
With the brilliance of rubies
Washed in violet twilight,

If this poem could tempt the nose
With July ripe blackberries
Warmed by the afternoon sun,

If this poem could taunt the tongue
With spice, black cherries and casis
And a long chocolate finish,

If this poem could touch the heart
Spark the stars in lover's eyes
And lay clouds beneath their feet,

If this poem could slide down the throat
Lighting the fire that warms the spirit
On a cold winter's night,

If this poem could sooth a bruised soul
Be companion to the lonely
And beckon the artist's muse,

If this poem was the elixir
That could unlock the joy within
And release it as a song,

If this poem could inspire
Gatherings of lively celebration
And honor the deserving,

This this poem would fill your glass
And you would be moved
To raise a glass to the poet.





                                                                Third Prize  -  Poet's Purse Category
                                                                                    Stephan Buffy  -  Sonoma, California


    
Ode To Our Mutual Intoxication


                    O' empty glass,

                    What salutation

                    Or
spilled lament

            Has led whom to consume

       The measure of your wet content?




                  What alchemy is this,

       That transforms emptiness to bliss?

                     Attractive as it
is,

              Me think myself most wise

                 To toast
unconsciousness.




                    Forgetfulness of loss,

               Forget who caused the stain,

                     Forgetfulness enough

                 That we may make you full,

                                 Again.






                                                        First Prize -  El Mejor en Espanol -  Best Poem in Spanish
                                                        Chris Giovacchini Ramirez

Sangre de Cristo
un triolet

Cristo dijo, "Esto es mi sangre, tomala y acuerdate de mi"

Intento recordarlo al tomar cada copita

El corazon arde y abre, se sente un sensacion agradable

Cristo dijo, " Esto es mi sangre, tomala y acuerdate de mi "

Se habla mas sincero, se perdona al enemigo, se ponen todos mas amable

Compartir la comida y el vino entre amigos hace la tarde bonita

Cristo dijo, "Esto es mi sangre, tomala y acuerdate de mi"  

Intento recordarlo al tomar cada copita






                                                                         First Prize -  Worthy of Another Sip Category
                                                                           open to poets that have never published or won an award
                                                                               Sandrew Montgomery


              
Ode to Pinot

NWAH ! . . .

Ahhhhhh . . .

That finicky little grape.
That gives all winemakers a fit.
And to wit,
Makes them want to say
" Oh Sh_ _ !
To hell with it ! "

I mean to wax the poetic prophetic
Of the likes of Ipson,
But I fell more
Like Henry Gibson.

Flavors elegant and broad in style,
Tremendously nuanced in its profile
That I, and an OENOPHILE,
Coined it, "DIVERSITILE".

It makes me merry -
Especially, when reminiscent of bing cherry.
It begets mirth
With scents of violets and earth,
Clove and cinnamon spice,
Paired withe sauteed mushrooms,
Oh! - so  -  nice !

From Burgundy to Santa Lucia,
Willamette to Santa Maria,
Russian River and Sonoma Coast,
And of course, right here in Carneros.
No other varietal can seduce,
Like the noble grape of EROS!



                                                                                          
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