| InterBoard Poetry Competition | |
THE BRONZE AGE Sean Callahan (Curoi) CALL ME ‘CHOCOLATE’ Kathryn Wells-Vogel CANVAS Joyce Wakefield
there is a smell of earth
from behind your neck that lives
in the treetops of my nostrils.
rising solid,
i could hammer it
into plates of tin.
your tin neck curving
over the odor of brown,
moist earth.
softness of flesh is warming,
like a peel of sod released.
it gives.
When you call me “Darlin”
In that silky, smooth kind of way
That you do
I melt like a piece of chocolate
That’s been tucked away
In your back pocket
And when you finally remember I’m there
Resting soft and gooey against you
The only way you can taste me
Is by licking me from my cellophane wrapping….
Test point 1
“If we do not learn from this, then from what shall we learn?”
The brain has teeth like a heart never could
Vincent Van Gogh
and it watches the heart
laying in its own pool of blood
with a buzz of ego.
There is a faint pulse in the brain
the heart unclenches and is still.
Test Point 2
“The time for making dark studies is short.”
I have replaced the sheets
Vincent Van Gogh
on my bed
now that the body is gone.
Where is my ego now --
lost in one of those
crooked alleyways in my brain.
Test Point 3
“So there is in every moment something that moves us intensely.”
It was a pretty truth hewn in a moment
Vincent Van Gogh
of madness, unraveling words
that will not silence me again.
Giving birth to a prayer
will not bring one ear back
but it will hang stars in the sky
like you have never seen.
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