Honorable Mention Poem

"Not without my Daughter"
(A Dedication to Betty Mahmoody)


Not without hope,
Not without fear,
She knew deep down,
You would always be there.


Not only a Mother,
but an Angel within,
That battled with a Demon,
Who went far beyond sin.


You had the will,
The Creator the way,
To go through anything,
Come what may.


A Savior to others,
and a Blessing thus far,
A miraculous happening,
Just as a Shining Star.

 

©2014 Mary Poe

About the Author Mary Poe

Mary was born in Apple Valley, Ca to Mary Trujillo, and Arnold Earl Poe, and her mother taught her to read when Mary was around 3 years of age. Her early love of reading and writing continued when she won an award in the 1rst Grade at Oro Grande Elementary School, Ca, for reading the most books/writing the most book reports winning the California Gold Medal Reader Award Certificate and $25.

Mary said, “It was the first year they had introduced that, and my Mother was extremely proud.”

She writes poetry off and on when she gets inspired in Life, and she attended Honors English in college. She is currently working on writing a book titled "Dedication's to the Real Heroes of Our Nation" full of dedication poems to various real life hero's. She was honored to meet David Pelzer and had him autograph his book, A Child Called “It”.

Mary said, “I gave him a letter full of 3 of My Poems and a small blue dream catcher I had personally made for him.”

 

She is currently a stay at home mother and for 13 years now sells antiques and vintage items on eBay. Her plans are to go back and finish getting her degree as a School Guidance Counselor. Later in her “Good ole' Wrinkled Lady” days, she’d like to retire to Hawaii.

Fourth Place Poem

Devil's Kiss of Fire

 

You think you know me,

I have power in my eyes

And destruction running through my blood.

I'm full of hatred and regret.

Rejecting affection in my wicked ways.

Lightning and thunder is my game

Heartache and suffering is my name

Fire over earthen waters is what I present to you.

Vanishing without one care in the land.

My presence will always leave a scar in your heart.

©2014 Carmen Borrero

About the Author Carmen Borrero

With a great upbringing, She learned to view the world around her, turning thoughts and ideas into penned, written words. Her poetry has been featured in Hardaway High School's Talon Literary Magazine (2000) and the US Library of Congress (2001). Her poem entitle "The Passing of Time" placed in the HBO Sharing the Stories Then and Now Creative Expressions Contest (2002). Carmen received a honorable mention from the Columbus Consolidated Government Rails to Trails Naming/Art Contest (2010). In addition, this is herfirst time entering a piece in The Political Poet Contest. She resides in Columbus, Georgia with her mother, Peggy and sister, Sheila. "I enjoy everything life has to offer, joining in multi-cultural events, attending church regularly, spotting a frog or two, and especially Atlanta Braves baseball- (just to name a few)!"

Fifth Place Poem

I look around

I look around this world and see… so many things crying out to me!

Politics have just became a constant battle; “Who’s right, Who’s wrong?”

Instead of having open-mindedness, people’s stubbornness causes blindness!

People seem to just ignore... what’s going on and what’s in store...

Instead of fighting with each other, open your heart and love your brother!

We need to get together and stand for what is right for this DEAR LAND!

For just this once forget the “Labels”, Stand up for “Right!” Look at the tables!

There’s so much truth in this one call; “Together we stand, Divided we fall!”

©2014 Lisa Koohns

About the Author Lisa Koohns

Lisa Koohns was born and raised in Connersville, Indiana. She attended school at CHS. Lisa enjoys hunting, fishing, gardening and all outdoor activities. She is the mother of two sons; Dan and Dusten Koohns.

First Place Amateur Poem

Broken

My government is broken
It’s plain to see
A bunch of idiots for the world to see
Unable to compromise on such serious matters
Go away people your vote doesn't matter

Everyone wants to be the boss
All want to win, no one want to suffer the loss
Both sides sit around with stupid grins
Not understanding the depths of which the nation hinge

Sitting around making foolish rules
Lord have mercy on us, we elected these fools
They spend millions of dollars on other nations needs
Forgetting our own not hearing our pleads
It matters not to these worthless fools
They cause us to suffer and forget who really rules

Go out and give your life to protect our land
What you get in return is a empty hand
Come home wounded and filled with despair
You gave your courage to a country that did not care

Concerned only with their own foolish obsessions
Determined to please their own constituents and make new connections
Thus leaving the nation with permanent disconnection

So here we sit in wonder and haste
Wondering how to prevent such waste
A waste of time, energy and money
Only the elected officials enjoy the abundance
I won’t forget them when it’s time to vote
I'll remember when they offered no hope

Beware of Americans who have no hope
Beware of Americans with a good memory and a vote

 

©2014 Delores Almond

About the Author Delores Almond

Delores Almond is a native of Detroit, Michigan who currently resides in Virginia. Delores occasionally performs "open mic." Delores is currently working on a collection of poetry and short stories.

Honorable Mention

WE ARE NOT BLACK

Our world is covered in darkness

Yet it is broad daylight.

No, it is not that eclipse of the sun

It is the eclipse of our dark mind.

It is the eclipse of our gloomy politics and economy,

The incandescence overshadowed by the bushel of civilized prejudice, complex and

greed.

We are not black because our skin is dark,

Someone must have thought us dark and called us black!

God nor Science calls us black

We are black because we were painted black.

We are black because the devil is black.

The mistake we made was to accept the epithet, and admit the connotation.

For God is not white because good is white,

White is superior to black so God has to be white.

White chalk is good on blackboard,

So is charcoal on whiteboard.

But the whiteboard is a product of modern invention

Hence, white is superior to black

Not by precedence but by preference.

 

he who invented the word, 'black'

did not create the dark world.

It is the myopia of our mind eye.

Adam and Eve enjoyed the bliss of naked ignorance.

The serpent and the fruit cured their innocent blindness

Who says white, pure and black, bad?

The rest is history.

 

White and black are colours,

Both colours have their use.

White can be bad and black can be good

It is all a matter of the use, colours are innocent.

But mixture of white and black is equal to...?

For if black is bad and if white is good,

If dark is evil and white is godly,

Shall we remove the colour black from among the colours of the world?

©2014 Laide Salako

About the Author Laide Salako

Laide Salako is a graduate of English from the University of Lagos, Nigeria, also certified to teach Cambridge IGCSE ESL. He has written a couple of published and unpublished, fiction and non-fiction poems, plays, articles and short stories. His poems have appeared in Foliate Oak Magazine, on Allpoetry and Poetryclub websites while some of his articles and other works are being considered for publishing. He is married with a child and currently the Head of Language Department in Queensland Academy, an international high school in Nigeria.

First Place Poem by Bob McNeil

Text to Resurrect Revolution

Countee Cullen

and I are of this consensus:

Prejudice drafts psychopaths. 

Their warpaths 

transfix our people to many a crucifix. 

There resides the reason why

my protest must never relax

from typing its attacks.

Addressed to your psyche, 

my compositions are microphones for

Emmett Till, Michael Griffith, 

Yusef Hawkins, Amadou Diallo, 

Sean Bell, Ramarley Graham,

Trayvon Martin, Darius Simmons,

Jordan Davis and Renisha McBride.

Addressed to your psyche, 

you can hear the murdered entreat:

“Don’t allow another name to join

a homicide report sheet. 

Don’t allow another name to join

a homicide report sheet.”

Addressed to your psyche, 

the compositions 

I’ve written are parts of a bulletin,

the passages transmit 

to our terra firma’s retina.

Addressed to your psyche,

my protest wants life

to evict the combustive

and discriminative. 

If armed with you,

Lawfulness will live.

©2014 Bob McNeil

About the Author Bob McNeil

Bob McNeil recalls, at the age of six, A Child’s Garden of Verses planted a seed in his mental soil.  Now, since the Autumn of Adulthood has descended upon him, Mr. McNeil feels his harvest came in the form of a position as Poetry Editor for BLACFAX and the publication of his two books.  Both of these poetic compositions, Secular Sacraments and The Nubian Gallery, A Poetry Anthology, can be found in various libraries, universities and bookstores.

Bob McNeil was influenced by the Imagists and the Negritude Movement.   Furthermore, even after all these years of being a professional illustrator, spoken word artist and writer, he still hopes to express and address the needs of the human mosaic.   

Besides writing professionally, Bob McNeil is an orator of some renown.  For example, he was the Featured Poet at numerous libraries throughout the tri-state area.  He looks forward to performing again with his spoken word and music group in the future. 

Kindly refer to Facebook, mcneil_bob@yahoo.com or YouTube for more information about poems, songs and videos.  If you prefer postal mail, Bob McNeil can be reached at P.O. Box 144, Hollis, NY 11423.

Second Place Poem

McDonalds and Disneyland in Baghdad

 

 

A critical strike—

Locusts swarm Baghdad.

Hands on general watch point north;

We know the hour.

Onerous change—oppressors change.

And we who walk through the valley of the Shadow of Debt

Shall fear no Skull and Bones,

Though a president’s brain be splayed

Over Grassy Knolls.

History’s violent melody replays

With variations.

From sea to shining sea, We The People lull

On soporific sofas watching oligarchy opera.

Dan Rather serves US polite Pepsi perspectives,

Big Mac American arrogance,

News Cheetos!

We lick orange agent from our limp lips,

O tranquil frenzy!

As embedded recorders with the Pentagon

Daily News,

Laud the 3-7^th Cav “mopping up”

Post-nocturnal engagement.

Back home in the Heartland

SUV super tanks hump bumpers, want to run you

Into a ditch. Dodge Ram you!

They’ll Custer you out.

They’ll show you stars and bloody stripes!

“God, Guts, and Guns—American Justice.”

V-8 diesel and United States flag,

Mud flap silver sex dolls and “The Power of Pride.”

Inside the cool cab Limbaugh wipes the Greasy Grass from his chinny chin.

He hardens,

And repeatedly violates Hillary.

God bless our Disney World dynasty!

We sow seedy embryos and reap

Sanitary solace in Fantasyland.

When Minnie minds

The Superstore,

Watergate McBurglars and Enronald McDonalds loot tills

Prevaricate with Goofy excuses,

Blame matronly Mickey Mouse Marthas.

O Dumbo Democracy!

Our Pinocchio president can barely reach

The end of his nose to scratch it.

“Rule by the People”

With money and power?

Plutocracy! In thin disguise.

Who dispatch fighting forces to dominate the globe as burning oil wells rain

Petroleum drops on dead jarheads in deserts;

The dumb grunts die

To advance

Elitist empire.

And We, The Petty Perfect People back on Main Street,

Huff and cower before TV altars

Eating Freedom Fries,

Supersized.

Waving Wal-Mart flags, we cheer the new Grand Opening:

McDonalds and Disneyland in Baghdad.

 

©2014 Shawn Hamilton

About the Author Shawn Hamilton

Hamilton's primary vocation is teaching, but he has also served as a capitol reporter in Sacramento for Pacifica Radio and has written for the Sacramento Bee and other local publications. He is dedicated to the development of Buddhist principles in the West.

Third Place Poem

These Blues

(for Shane)
 

These blues have covered my window

in black, blocking out endorphin sun

     and soothing rain.

 
These blues have faded me
to grey, gripping mind
            and squeezing out emotion.
 

These blues have sent me

past red, pruning thorny anger
            and weeding out soft memory.
 

These blues have bled me

to beige, blinding me to hopeful sky
            and barring me from restful earth.
 

These blues, they have wed me

to muffled music, baffling oblivion
            and thwarting silence.

 

©2014 Taunja Thompson

 

 

About the Author Taunja Thompson

 

Her poetry has appeared in The Cincinnati Poets’ Collective, The Cincinnati Poetry Review, and The Licking River Review.  Her poem “Seahorse and Moon” was nominated for the Pushcart Award by the editors of The Licking River Review in 2005.  Additionally, her work has placed in The Political Poet’s yearly contests from 2010 to 2013, and her poem “Promise” was selected to appear in the 2012 Book of Poems and Drawings on Peace and Justice.  The April edition of The Aurorean will feature her piece “I Dream of Orange.” 

She currently reside in Cold Spring, Kentucky, with her husband and seven cats, where she practices water gardening and Flamenco dancing.