The Poetry Society of Virginia: 2008 Contest Awards

Mel Edwards (C'es moi) is a WINNER!

POETRY SOCIETY OF VIRGINIA
2008 Annual Adult Contest
Awards Program
April 19, 2008

Category 14. Laura Day Boggs Bolling Memorial,, Marguerite Watkins, Judge. First Place: “My New Neighbor”, Dr. M. Lee Alexander, Williamsburg, VA. Second Place: “Hats”, James Garrett, Richmond, VA. Third Place: “Teachers”, Mel Edwards, Simpsonville, SC. 1st HM ”My Secret”, Laura Bobrow, Leesburg, VA. 2nd HM “Colder Light”, S. Nagarajan, Mason, OH. 3rd HM “Upon Visiting the National Zoo in Winter”, David Essex, Alexandria, VA. (55 entries)

Category 20. Come Out Swinging Prize, Henry Hart, Judge. First Place: “Breakfast at Sea”, Lynn Veach Sadler, Sanford, NC. Second Place: ” Song Written for Sophia”, David Essex, Alexandria, VA. Third Place: “Pro Se Blues”, Peter H. Desmond, Cambridge, MA. 1st HM “Apiary Act”, Mel Edwards, Simpsonville, SC. 2nd HM “Simple Simon’s Song”, Richard Raymond, Roanoke, VA. 3rd HM “o daddy long legs”, Trilla Ramage, Hampton, VA. (60 entries)

Mel's winning entries follow:

"Teachers"

by Mel Edwards

There are short ones,
tall ones,
skinny ones, too.

Watchin’ what you’re doin’.
Watchin’ what you do.

Some they crawl out in the night.
Others stand in broad day light.

Who are the easy ones?
Who be the bad?
Who are the worst ones that you’ve ever had?

Their paychecks may be nothin’ but I will tell you true.
Their benefits are somethin’ – maybe one of them was you.

There are round ones,
wide ones,
average ones too.

Showin’ how to do it.
Showin’ what to do.


Who were the great ones?

Who weren’t that bad?

Who was the best one you ever had?

**************************

"Apiary Act"

by Mel. Edwards

You flew right in and snubbed my worker bees
Saying, “Hey Queenie, mama, take a look at me.”
I spun around. I had no fear.
I knew Big Daddy, where you’d be in a year.

I said, “Yeah?”
You said, “Yeah.”

You walked right up and said with a smile,
“Come one Queenie, baby, let’s play for a while.”
I said, “A drone of mine will be put to the test.
If you know what you’re doin’ you’ll get no rest.”

You said, “Yeah?”
I said, “Yeah.”

I should have known then that you knew your scam
You claimed, “I was made for dancin’ the old wham-bam.”
You looked into my eyes, then lightnin’ struck.
In a heartbeat you were my broncin’ buck.

I said, “Yeah!”
You said, “Yeah.”

Well, months have passed. The hive is full.
Your life is done. Honey, that’s not bull.
“Mother Nature said it’s time for me to fly.
It’s been fun, Daddy, and that’s no lie.”

You said, “Yeah?”
I said, “Yeah.”

You took a step back and tripped on the rug.
Lying on the floor you sighed and shrugged.
“If that’s how it goes, I’m not sorry, ma’am.
There are worse ways of livin’, like the ol’ flim flam.”

I said, “Yeah.”
You said, “Yeah.”

Evernow

It began with a seashell
so delicate...

The words flowed
with adolsecent angst.
They continue through
life's surprises and goals
I never hoped to realize.

It will continue:
as long as my fingers move
even if the letters wobble
like Anna's did...

All the while my eyes see
even if those visions
exist only in my head...

As my ears receive waves
even if no one else hears
the voice within....

Beyond the everlasting day my spirit
enters eternal rest
past the hours that will flow
evermore in the distance...

Evernow,
I am
and
I will be
a poet.

Hub City Writing Conference

Hi, folks! If you are looking for an intimate writing conference to attend this summer, check out Hub City's 2008 Writing in Place conference, which will be held Aug. 1-3 at Wofford College. They only allow 72 people to register and I'll be there focusing upon poetry.
I signed up after I found out Hub City published Marjory Wentworth's first book, and one of the presenters is the ever-intelligent poet Vera Gomez, who I met at TRAM last Saturday.
I love that when I follow my passions (storytelling, writing, teaching) I meet more and more fabulous people. Jayne Jaudon Ferrer is rumored to be attending this conference as well...so if you're looking for more fantastic folks to share your love of word wrangling with, Hub City is the place to be in August!
For more details visit:
http://www.hubcity.org/
(And, no, I do not benefit financially or otherwise from speaking about this conference or any of the women mentioned above. I'm just so excited that I wanted to invite you to join us!)
Hope to see you at Wofford!
-Mel.

TRAM: Marjory Wentworth workshop

Call it luck, synergy or Divine Intervention, but on Friday night I attended a poetry reading at a cafe in Traveler's Rest given by Marjory Wentworth, our state poet laureate. While I was there, it was announced she was giving a FREE workshop on Saturday for two hours. So, I cancelled my plans for Saturday and signed up. What a gas!

The main thrust of the workshop was writing about stories you find in magazines, newspapers, etc. that just catch your mind in a spin. Marjory brought her file and we looked. I found in the pile our local library's ad for a teen event -- not related to reading or libraries at all, but toward environmentally-related crafts: making floor mats out of plastic shopping sacks. It struck me funny that no reading was promoted in the advertisement. I then brainstormed and thought of all the times people have been hushed in the library. I combined that silence with all the things we as adults don't talk to teens about even when all the information is right there under our noses. Below is the poem I came up with:

Trash Bag Floor Mats
by Mel. Edwards

Conformityville Library:Calling All Teens!
Create kitschy quirky foundation
to combat global strangulation!

Sssshhh!

Shop on
and drop
crunchy carpet for
park pavers and
football field.

Fashionable obfuscation found.

Poohie.
So sad.
Sam Walton’s shop
switched those sea-tone sacks.
Cement County seeks coastal view.



Free use with author credit given. MelEdwardsConnect@yahoo.com
© 2008. Mel Edwards

Farewell Teaching

Well, this week I turned in my resignation effective the end of the school year. What does that mean to the rest of the world? Ready or not, here I come!!!!
I have a list of 18 things I want to be working on this year. I won't post the entire list here, but some of the basics include:

1. Votre Vray - Finding Your Truth workshops
2. Storytelling, poetry crafting and other literary support and entertaining in schools
3. Writing boatloads more poetry
4. Writing a book with a colleague
5. Many, many poetry readings and other related festival events

Somewhere along the line I hope to see more of my husband and bunnies and meet YOU!

I'm OPEN FOR BOOKINGS most days and nights beginning June 14th. (Before that I have a summer camp, National Boards of Professional Teaching Standards assessment test, and, naturally, the end of the school year.

I look foward to meeting you soon!

-Mel.

Poem wins contest

I just heard the inside scoop that one of my poems for young people has won third place in a nationally advertised contest. I'm thrilled. Once the information goes public I'll publish it here and give a link to the contest website. Until then, keep on writing!

Story Quarterly Sponsors Love Story Contest

StoryQuarterly Contest Guidelines:
The StoryQuarterly Love Story Contest is open to all writers. We’re looking for the heart of the story presented in fiction or nonfiction in the following categories: short stories, short short stories, novel excerpts, essays, memoirs, and excerpts from book-length nonfiction. Entries must be previously unpublished, no longer than 8,000 words, and must not have previously been chosen as a winner, finalist, or honorable mention in another contest.

TOPIC: The subject is love in any and all of its varieties and incarnations — familial, filial, romantic, platonic, the love of place, nature, animals, possessions, beauty, or truth, love that is intellectual, erotic, patriotic, real or imagined, fulfilled or denied, tragic or comedic.
Tell us the truth about love!

Awards: First Prize is $2,500, Second Prize is $1,500, and Third Prize is $750. The prize winners will be announced in SQ online and will be eligible for inclusion in the 2008 StoryQuarterly Annual. Additionally, ten finalists will receive $100 each. We’ll announce finalists in the magazine as well.

There is a $20 fee for each entry. And with your entry, you’ll receive six months complimentary access to Narrative Backstage.

Entries will be accepted between between January 1 and March 31, 2008. The contest will be judged by the editors of the magazine.

Winners and finalists will be announced to the public by by April 30, 2008.
All writers who enter will be notified by email of the judges’ decisions.

We accept online entries only. We do accept simultaneous submissions, but if your entry is accepted elsewhere, please let us know as soon as possible (and accept our congratulations!). Entries should be formatted as follows: Double-spaced, with 12-point type, at least one-inch margins, and sequentially numbered pages. Please give the author’s name, address, telephone number, and email address at the top of the first page.

https://narrativemagazine.com/SQ/shared/contest.php

Call for Letters

Votre Vray – Living Your Truth, Your Way.

Call for Letters
Tell Votre Vray about your experiences in finding your “place” in the world.

• Was it easy and natural to follow your life path?
  
• Did someone dictate who you were to be?
  
• Did you make several choices before you settled on where you are now?
  
• How does who you are link to what you surround yourself with and your roles – such as your choice of living quarters, geographic location, job, race, faith, relationships with friends and family, sexual orientation, decisions about parenthood, etc.
  
• If you could change anything about your past, would you? Why or why not?
  
• Have your found your true self or are you still searching?
  
  All letters must include:
• Author’s legal name, mailing address, e-mail (if available) and phone number for verification purposes.
• Author’s signature and date written.
• Acknowledgement form (attached below).
  
• NOTE: All Letters MUST be received by February 28, 2008 via snail mail (no e-mailed letters will be read or accepted for consideration) to: 404 Capewood Rd., Simpsonville, SC, 29680
  
  Author Acknowledgement
  
  ________ (initial) I have not received, nor shall I receive, any remuneration (pay, favors, gifts, etc.) for my decision to write a letter for Votre Vray or its publication A Year to Save My Life (working title, which may be changed by publisher).
  
  ________ (initial) I understand my name, city and state, and letter (in part or whole) may appear in print in Votre Vray publications, including http://www.votrevray.blogspot.com/, or in A Year to Save My Life (working title, which may be changed by publisher).
  
  ________ (initial) I also certify that everything that appears in my letter is true and my own original thoughts, ideas and writing.
  
  Author’s Name (print) ___________________________________
  
  Street Address: _________________________________________
  
  City _________________ State _____ Zip/Postal Code ____________
  
  Daytime Phone ( ) _____ - __________
  
  E-mail: _______________________
  
  Author’s Signature: ____________________________
  
  Date: ___________________

A Year to Save My Life

Votre Vray – Your Truth, Your Way.

A Year to Save My Life

A Year to Save My Life is the working title for a memoir-in-progress by Mel. Edwards

The Good News:
Mel. Edwards, to the best of her knowledge, is not dying anytime soon.

The Reality:
She is, however, at a crossroads where she is trying to take back control of her physical and fiscal health, her mental and emotional strength and to allow her spiritual side to guide her life choices over her temperament.

About Mel:
Mel was born in Glens Falls, NY and has lived and worked in

New York, Arizona, Montana, Tennessee, and, currently, in Greenville County, SC.
She is a happily married bunny mama (to Poppet and Foofer)

and is also a writer, professional storyteller, educator and has several creative hobbies.

PLEASE HELP !!!

Tell Votre Vray about your experiences in finding your “place” in the world!

Why you?

Why not!?!
Mel. is an average, everyday American. She is the first person in her family history to go to college and to hold a professional certification. She owes a mortgage, credit card debt and student loans like many Americans. Although she’s a trained yoga teacher and has a strong personal spiritual faith, she’s still overweight, out of shape, unmotivated to exercise when she’s already worked a ten hour day (or more) and the girl just needs a hand up! Mel. knows for certain that she is not alone and she wants this memoir to be available to women who are in the same emotional, mental, spiritual and physical place.

Please see the Call for Letters for details and submit your 2¢ today! Who knows, you may get to see your name in print! Remember, every opinion counts and Mel can’t do it alone.

Thank you!
-Ms. Mel. Edwards

Mel Enters Contest

Well, I just put together my envelope for another poetry contest. These entries will go to the Poetry Society of Virginia's Annual Adult Contest. ( No...not adult material, just written by adults, ladies and gentlemen.)
I won't know until April if any of my entries have won, but I'm excited to say I specifically created four new poems because of this contest, and revised/reworked three others. I have one other entry I didn't tinker with at all, but it is one of my favorites and I'm too love-struck to see any wrong in a work I love. Ah, the parenthood of poetry!
Unfortunately, contest rules prevent me from publishing any of the entries until the contest is over. I did sneak in one stanza from my villanelle, and hope that my choice to do so doesn't disqualify my entry.
Wish me luck --
and to all my readers, I hope you've have had a safe, healthy and happy holiday today.
-Ms. Mel.

Poetry Villanelle

Students often do not know the forms and rules of poetry. This villanelle keeps to the rules of the form while also offering some instruction, a look into the life of a poet, and a heaping dose of fun.
A villanelle is nineteen lines long, 5 stanzas of three lines and the final with four lines. The rhyme is aba throughout and the first line of the first stanza and third line of the same stanza are repeated in set locations, as appears here.
I began this one last night and got up at 5 a.m. today to complete it. Believe it or not, for those of us who love to write, it is delightful to stay up late and then get up early to do our craft. (I'm sure my students would cry out that I'm a nut job for getting out of bed so early on our first day of holiday break just to write!)
I hope you enjoy the first stanza.

Poetry Villanelle

Upside down, dangling – me – hanging from the poet tree.
Hands do flit, grasp at sound. Toes? They tap the beat around.
I live cadence, lyric, free. Verse has meter? Joyous be.

[Remainder of Villanelle will appear after April, 2008, because it is in a contest and cannot be published until winners have been announced.]

Most Wonderful Time of the Year!!!

Today is the last day of classes before students and teachers get a two week break from each other. All I can see in that unending little filmstrim in my head is the office supply commercial when the father is happily filling a large cart with back-to-school supplies and his son and daughter are standing there dumbfounded and disgusted. In the background is the song "Its the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!!!" as dad whizzes by riding the back of the cart with a grin on his face. That is the way all teachers and students feel today...and I bet there are more than a few parents feel like the kids in that commercial.

I wish all my students and colleagues a safe, peaceful and blessed holiday season. I look forward to seeing you all in the new year with renewed virve to get the job we must do, done.

The Changeling

I often get my students to write their journal entries based upon pictures I've taped all over the walls of my classroom. One picture was of a cute baby but the florescent lighting of the room made her eyes look dark and sinister. As a result, I though we needed and "evil baby" story. So, I began this in class and shared it with my students. I promise I'll complete it one day and enter it in a short story contest. (When I get the time. Really.)

Kenzie, albeit with new teeth and the ability to walk and talk like a child way beyond her years, was normal as can be for the rest of the day and every day after that for a full week. The problem happened at night. Somehow, between the hours of ten p.m. and 5 a.m. she transformed or adapted to her surroundings in a way that any normal human child would not. The second day yielded another leg ringed like the a ‘coon’s tail. The third morning she woke with points to the top of her ears like an elf. On fourth she could jump up on the roof in a single bound. By the fifth, much to her parents’ dismay, she looked like a kindergarten aged child. On the sixth, she could run a three minute mile.
Her parents didn’t want the seventh day to come. But come it did, and on that day, miraculously, nothing changed.

“Even the Lord took the seventh day off,” Angelo joked.

Keisha didn’t bother to snap back. Tears welled up and she just shook her head. This was not the family they’d planned for.

Late on the seventh day, a stranger came to the door. She was a round little woman who spoke with a Celtic lilt. “Good day, dear ones. It has come to my attention that perhaps you may need my assistance.”

Angelo didn’t know what the woman was speaking of.

“You do have a changeling for a bairn, don’t you?” the lady inquired.

Angelo didn’t ask how she knew. At this point, he figured Jesus, Mary and Joseph were bound to knock on the door next. He just nodded and stepped back from the door letting the woman enter.

“Ms?”

“Slainte.”

“Ms. Slainte, we are at odds.”

“As any normal family would be. Donna fash yourself, lad. I will tell you how to catch the Good Fellows behind this mischief and all will be well.”

“Good Fellows?”

“Aye. The faeirefolk is what you’d be callin’ ‘em. They’ve snatched your wee one and put a changeling in her spot.”

Keisha had entered the room just in time to hear the visitor’s explanation for her daughter’s myseterious transformation. “What? Where is our baby? We must save her!”

“Aye. If you follow my instructions you will. Don’t get your knickers in a knot just yet, Missus. If you do as you must, your girlie will be jus’ fine. More likely than not, she’s sleeping peacefully in the hall of the Elfin king. When she wakes, she’ll be in her own bed, none the wiser.”

“We’ll do whatever you say,” answered Keisha.

Angelo nodded but remained mum.

“Good. Then let us be started.”

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Soldier's Wife

Not to long ago, I had a beau who was into medieval reinactments and the SCA. He had a lovely hand-made suit of armor and was going to an event where he and his friends were going to spar in a tavern. He asked me to go along to take pictures for their SCA website. When his time came to spar he got hit hard in the shoulder, and it dislocated, unexpectedly and painfully. Now, imagine us -- he at 6'2" tall, and I'm only 5' tall. I drove a Geo Metro at and had to gingerly get him into my car and take him to the ER while his armor was still on. This is a song/poem that I created after the event. (If you're wondering, he and I had already broken up when this happened, but remained friends, and he does enjoy the song.)

Soldier’s Wife

I was a lonely maiden
sitting by a lily pad
hoping and a prayin’
that I’d find a lad.

Along came a fella
in a suit of green
saying, “I promise you if you kiss me dear,
I’ll treat you like the queen.”

I didn’t stop to ponder,
for I found it grand,
to be living as a wealthy lass,
ruling my own land.

But it didn’t take Culloden,
or the Foggy Dew
to have me trompin’ through the field
pickin’ up after you.

On the morn you met your foe
you raised your mighty sword
your shoulder jumped its faulty ship
and then you cursed, “Dear Lord!”
The surgeon pumped you full of juice
and popped that bugger in,
but to care for you for a month or two,
that would do me in.

Aye, to care for you for a month or two,
THAT would do me in.

As a lowly soldier’s wife,
things may turn out so.
I’ve packed me bags and to the hills
tomorrow I must go.

Advice to all young lassies,
before I hit the road:
Sometimes a man may be a prince
but a frog is still a toad.

Aye, sometimes a man may be a prince,
but a frog is still a toad.

Remember

One of my long-time friends was my Dine neighbor in Flagstaff, Arizona. I helped her with her three sons when I could as we were both single and I love children. Her middle child was always very bright and advanced in school. Unfortunately, he crossed over unexpectedly this year. This haiku was written in rememberance of this young man, who would have been eighteen this year.

Remember

Snow in the desert.
Unexpected enigma.
Gone from sight – not heart.

Fortune Teller

I have a long-time friend who is able to see things that most of us cannot. For years I went to her for a reading -- mostly because I wanted to know if whomever I was dating was "the one" so this poem is actually a song I wrote for Peggy. I sing this in storytelling events and will have it for sale on iTales.com very soon.

Fortune Teller

“Peggy, oh Peggy, please take this ring.
Tell of my future and what it may bring,
For I am still searchin’ for one love so true;
He’s not come. What shall I do?”

Liam, my fair lad, with curls all in gold.
Will you be my son, before I am old?
Babe, I dreamed of you somehow.
Go fetch your father. Find him now.

Guardian angels and loved ones dear,
Whisper the answer so I may hear.
Come to me in dark of night.
Tell me the secret. Make it right.

Johnny – or Willy – whoever you are,
Wishin’ for me on this mornin’s star,
I’m spinning my wool, here in my home –
As a good wife I shall not roam.

Peggy, oh Peggy, please take this ring
Tell of my future and what it may bring.
I am beggin’ ye Peggy and G-d above,
Fortune be mine with blessings of love.

Divine Light

This poem was truly written when I was going out for Sunday breakfast. I do a great deal of writing in my head as I drive. Luckily I've never been in a collision. I just say the words aloud to myself over and over until I have a rhythm and a few phrases I can remember. Then, whenever and wherever I stop, I write like made to get the basics down. I carry a journal in my purse that has a cover like an old pulp novel and have more notebooks and journals at home than I can count. A version of this poem is being entered in a sacred poetry contest this month. Wish me luck!

Divine Light

As I crested a hill
the morning sun filled my mirrors
and momentarily blinded me
from looking back
or even forward.
Awash in warm light
I felt
Divine
acknowledgement
and acceptance
for my journey.

My shadow
could not reach me.
Fear was
vanquished.

Oh, if all journeys were so blessed!

Too bad…
I was only driving
for Sunday morning
donuts.

The Vow

Before you make those New Year's resolutions and promises...perhaps you might want to reflect upon how you did this year.


"The Vow"

gulls on december fifteenth
skim the opaque sky of
suburban shopping centers
and cry their banshee death knell:
this year…
this year…
this…
year.

another sacred vow broken
to yourself, by your self
of your
self.

three hundred fifty days
intentions failed to save.
on thanksgiving a tinge of
guilt visited
and overstayed its welcome.

next year.
next year…
next…
year.

To Do List

Ariel Gore says that a woman never finishes her to-do list. Therefore, I've decided to rearrange my list a bit. The last item will always be the same: to die. That way, I'll live forever, or at least as long as I want to and rearrange my list. Here's hoping the Master of the Universe agrees!

To Do in the Next 6 months:
1. Survive the last three days of school before winter break with finesse.
2. Over break I will: a. Finish knitting at least one item in my UFO cradle (yes, my knitting is in a doll cradle that I've had since I was a kid); b. Type of my dozen or so poems I've written this month; c. Work on finishing the half bath in the basement.
3. Take a bubble bath
4. Watch a movie or read a book for the fun of it -- not for what it will teach me.
5. Send off a poem to a contest.
6. Do at least one other thing on my home-improvement list on my fridge.
7. Record some of my stories and songs.
8. Put our house on the market (Approx. 1100 sq ft, 3 BR, 1 1/2 BA, bonus room, new paint, new carpet, new fridge, new stove, used washer/new dryer and tons of little remodeling extras, .33 acres in quiet neighborhood close to I-385 and shopping, little ones can walk to elementary school all for $104,700).
9. Pay off our credit card debit
10. Finish (and pass with flying colors) my National Board certification portfolio and test.
11. Take the Principals of Learning test for middle grades (because some government yahoo says this test will prove I know the same stuff I needed to know to be certified to teach grades 7-12 but that certification will be obsolete very soon)
12. Get a body like Angelina Jolie
13. Write a best seller and get a big fat advance.
14. Write my will -- just in case.
15. Die.

See? It is that simple, I am very UNlikely to do #12 mostly due to lack of effort, and partially linked to genetics. #13 isn't very likely either since I teach all day and #10 and #11 will consume most of my non-teaching hours through the end of the school year. #14, if I get that done, I certainly can live for a very long time because the Reaper only visits those who are sick, old, and not prepared. Ha! I've got it sussed! I am immortal!!! (At least for the next six months...)

Our World and Balance

Alliteration, consonance and assonance are often new concepts to writers. Here are two pieces from 20+ years ago that I share to get students thinking about telling their opinion about an event or object using some of these literary devices. (Yes, I was a typical teen who thought the world would go to hell in a handbasket before I ever reached 21 if the adults kept running things as they had been...so this work shows that sentiment.)

Our World

Ticking Time, Changing Children;
People are purposefully paranoid through
Wild war. Stealing Secrets.
Painfully persecuted people
clicking clocks. Terrified Teens
spinning in Circular Synchronicity.
Looking lifeless, Feeling Frightened –
searching for a silent sanity.
Prostitutes prosecuting possible
plagiaristic paralegals!
And SUDDENLY a scream is
Squealing through their simple minds,
then….
THEN….


nothing.
********************

Balance

Tossing, turning, twisting, twirling –
My mind spins a bit more each day.

Problems, people politics ---
Never go away.

Singing, dancing, smiling --
Learning to play.

Ability to do so is a gift,
Some they say.

Being able to cope is a feat
of present and past.

No matter,
In this world,
If you are first ---


Or last.

(Written as Melissa A. Bentley, 1986.)