From ever-changing nature to everyday horror, poets' words engrave experience on us
Eclectic and powerful are words that come to mind when reading the five winning poems chosen this month by professional poets who volunteer on the monthly Cape Cod Times Poetry Contest board.
Of note this month is a tanka, a Japanese short poem written in 31 syllables of free verse, built by a 10-year-old who was inspired by tripping over her classroom rug.
The Cape Cod Times is proud to present the work of local people - from beginners to veterans - who wrangle words into shapes that allow experience to live always in our memories.
To submit your poem, see the rules below. In the meantime, may you enjoy and ponder the beautiful and terrible human experiences set out in these poems.
Bio: Geoff Knowlton lives in Hyannis. His poetry has been published in various journals and anthologies.
Poem inspiration: I believe the best poetry is short but impactful and should capture a moment. This poem does that. One day while mopping the kitchen floor, a bird feather floated in and I ended up on my knees trying to retrieve it from under a cart. Just then, Mary walked in and laughed at the scene. Just a little moment that set off a poetic reverie.
Chasing a Memory
By Geoff Knowlton
A downy feather
Floats on a summer draft
Across the tiled floor.
Disappearing under
A cabinet
Like a memory
I once held dear
From another summer
When a laden breeze
Blew a feather into
Her hair.
Chasing after it
Trying to snag it with
A wooden spoon
Fails to get it back.
She asks what I’m looking for
And laughs when I tell her
I’m searching for a memory.
It’s erased with her touch
That asks if
I’d like to make a new one.
***
Bio: John Arnold is a published nonfiction author in Mashpee who writes poetry as a hobby.
Inspiration: After my father-in-law made me pass a wine taste test at the age of 24 in exchange for permission to marry his daughter, I married into a family of oenophiles despite being a neophyte myself. I wrote "A Wine Life" in appreciation of my wife’s uncle Walter who passed after living a fabulous wine life and imparting fruitful wisdom we all share.
A Wine Life
By John Arnold
Which wine goes well?
Cork, pour, swirl, smell.
Nose, sip, taste, trill,
fruit, tannin, big, thrill.
Shop, purchase, stock, store,
drink, share, buy, more.
Read, study, learn, know,
map, region, plan, go.
Name, label, vat, owner,
vine, grape, terroir, grower.
Auction, bid, win, cellar,
three-lipped storyteller.
Age, body, full, mature,
finish, wine life tour.
***
Bio: Gail Rasmussen lives in South Yarmouth and has read and written poetry her whole life.
Inspiration: I lived most of my life in New Hampshire before settling here on Cape. There, autumn was filled with the radiance of the changing foliage. Here, I noticed more muted tones in the color of the trees, especially when compared to the brilliance of the Cape’s natural light, so I imagined the trees purposely taking a back seat to the colors of the sky and water.
Humility
By Gail Rasmussen
In the fall,
the trees on Cape Cod
do not explode into brilliant color
like those to the North.
Instead,
Their leaves gently fade
into pale greens, yellows,
burnt orange and rust.
Perhaps,
they stifle their color in deference
to the magnificent sunrises and sunsets
they witness each day.
Perhaps,
They wish to compliment, not overwhelm
the beautiful red and orange
of sky
over water.
***
Bio: Emily Clatworthy lives in Falmouth and is the author of "Leaves." She attends The Vineyard Montessori School
Inspiration: This poem came to be through tripping over a rug. Quite strange but it happened while I was walking in my classroom and I tripped over a rug. This somehow opened up a segue to another place in my mind with one thought: Leaves. And here it is.
Leaves
By Emily Clatworthy
A tanka
Leaves fall around town
Swirling with the windy sky
Jumping and laughing
In their own special language
Just leaves falling in the fall
(Author is age 10)
***
Bio: Steve Kramer is a resident of Mashpee and a native of Western Massachusetts. He has written many opeds and political articles.
Inspiration: The visit to Auschwitz a few years ago followed a day long visit to Stalag III where my father had been a Jewish POW during World War II.
Reading historical descriptions of the Holocaust provided third hand descriptions of the horrors that occurred. Seeing the facilities, including the gas chambers, crematoria, hair and glasses of victims and photos of small children gassed was an entirely different experience. Creating an image, rather than a mere historical description, was the goal of this poem. When murder of millions becomes commonplace , it deserves to be more than just a sad footnote to history. That is the goal of this poem.
Images of Auschwitz - Man´s Inhumanity to Man
By Steve Kramer
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”
His clothes were always neatly pressed, his boots were cleaned and shined
Though his job was difficult, he never seemed to mind
Daddy worked at Auschwitz where the guards he supervised
Unloaded people from the boxcar trains when they arrived.
Elders, parents and children, tired, starving and in pain
Many soiled in their own waste when they came off the train.
Little children held their dolls with fear upon their faces
As parents reassured them they’d be safe at this new place
All then were told, “remove your clothes, so you can take warm showers”,
Daddy added, “you’ll be safe and warm in just an hour.”
Women and children were directed to a concrete room
Guards told them the showers above would all be turned on soon.
But then the entrance door slammed shut, the room turned dark with gloom
A gas masked Nazi poured the poison pellets in the room.
Daddy stood and listened to all those trapped inside
They screamed and cried, they gasped for air, fell silent, then they died
Children who, an hour before, had held their teddy bears
Soon were smoke and ashes rising in the Auschwitz air
Daddy’s routine was the same at Auschwitz every day
Killing thousands who arrived was all in a day’s pay.
At home each night, his wife would ask him “how was your day, dear?”
He’d reply “the usual,” sit down and have a beer.
Then, after dinner, Daddy took his family for ice cream
Back home, he put his son to bed and wished him pleasant dreams
When some speak of the “the Holocaust”, they claim it isn’t true
They should visit Auschwitz and stay a day or two
Every generation has to do the best it can
To learn, then teach what happened there
To make sure “never again”.
Submitting a poem
Here’s how to send us your work:
Submit one poem single-spaced, of 35 lines or fewer per month *
Poems cannot be previously published (in print or online).
Deadline for submission is Dec. 1, 2022.
Submit by email to cctpoetry12@gmail.com.
Poems should be free of hate speech and expletives (profanity, vulgarity, obscenity).
IN THE BODY OF THE E-MAIL, send your contact information: name, address, phone no. and title of poem; then, IN A WORD.DOC ATTACHMENT include poem without name or any other personal info, so that the poem can be judged anonymously.
Poets not previously published in the Cape Cod Times are welcome to submit a new poem each month; those poets previously published in the Times, 3 months after publication.
Poets will be notified only if their poem is accepted.
Poems will be selected by a panel of readers on the Cape and Islands who are published poets and editors.
This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Cape Cod poets etch good and bad memories in glass
