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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