Poems eligible for 2017 Rhysling Awards
Download 58.49 Kb.
|
- Navigate this page:
- You Always Said You Could Swim Like a Fish
- Adam’s Rendezvous with Dante
| Poems eligible for 2017 Rhysling Awards
John C. Mannone jcmannone@gmail.com A Few Select poems (7 of 29) in the Short Poem Category: Contents Stellar Quake, New England Journal of Medicine, Sep 2016 http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMc1606937#t=article Wormwood, Pedestal Magazine (Issue 79, edited by Bruce Boston & Marge Simon), Dec 2016 http://www.thepedestalmagazine.com/john-c-mannone-wormwood/ undying, Eye To The Telescope, Issue 22, Oct 2016 http://eyetothetelescope.com/archives/022issue.html Emancipation, Eye To The Telescope, Issue 21, July 2016 http://eyetothetelescope.com/archives/021issue.html You Always Said You Could Swim Like a Fish, Altered Reality Magazine, Aug 2016 http://www.alteredrealitymag.com/you-always-said/ White Lightning, On the Veranda Literary Journal, Issue 1.10, Nov 2016 https://ontheverandaliteraryjournal.wordpress.com/issues/issue-1-10/ Butterfly Wings, Peacock Journal, Dec 2016 http://peacockjournal.com/john-c-mannone-four-poems/ A Few Select poems (7 of 29) in the Short Poem Category: Poems Stellar Quake, New England Journal of Medicine, Sep 2016 http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMc1606937#t=article
of a neutron star caused by a quake below its gravity-hard crust. Superfluid protons spew out with other exotic blood if only for a few moments before intense magnetic fields suture the star shut. Yet it still spins on its axis, pulses with precision, before the next burst. It’s amazing what one can learn about stars from a television in a hospital room. The good doctor, making his rounds like clockwork, stands at the door with his clipboard, for a moment —a silhouette in frazzled glow of hall light—before coming in with the news. I sensed the tangled light in his eyes. And I knew the hardened skin of my heart would break tonight in the darkness of my own universe. Wormwood, Pedestal Magazine (Issue 79, edited by Bruce Boston & Marge Simon), Dec 2016 http://www.thepedestalmagazine.com/john-c-mannone-wormwood/ Wormwood He goes to the only church he ever knew. The observatory entrance is littered with gum wrappers and cigarette butts. His mother’s King James, tucked in the folds, leathers his spring jacket. She insisted he take it—a worn edition bookmarked to Revelation 8. He shifts his gaze to the naked sky, it sparkles innocence, but the star he stares at—the one she called Absinthian—bitters the night. He opens the dome, slews the refractor above the treetops to Corvus, the constellation rooking the night. The waning moon spotlights the patch of stars. He zooms in; watches the image grow out of the soft blur into hard focus on the computer monitor. Comet Walker-McQueen, an Everest-size rock, falls from the heavens. The ultimate catastrophe. He calculates as he had a dozen times before, hoping, praying they are faulty. They are not. The wishful echo of a hoax had faded months ago. When he left his mom’s, the TV blared—so much looting, riots. He mumbles we are all pawns, that the world is going to hell, but his sister found religion. His coworkers had spoken of their spirituality—the stars gave them birth; the stars will scatter their dust to the infinities. He empties his pockets: coins, keys, a Waterman safety pen…his father’s straight razor. It shimmers in the computer-green light. The comet’s getting bigger. He pours a whiskey and swivels to the chess set; pieces already positioned. Dials the phone. “Grandfather. It’s my move…Knight-to-Queen’s Bishop 3.” undying, Eye To The Telescope, Issue 22, Oct 2016 http://eyetothetelescope.com/archives/022issue.html undying let the spirits of the dead slip through God’s fingers || re-enter your bodies || feel yourselves quiver exhaling black dust || unchoke coal from your throats || watch tons deluge from walls || ceiling || move away from the final entrance || step back into the elevator || start laughing halfway up the shaft || at a joke about mine safety and waiting for someone to unkill the bill for more inspections || try to forget the undying allegiance || laugh some more || slip past the door || put your helmet & gear in the corner of your shanty and unbreak your wife’s heart || unpress your lips hard to hers || sit at the kitchen table || unswirl the coffee from the cup || untaste the eggs before they’re returned to pan to shell || don’t pray with your wife
untouch her || don’t listen to the rooster || don’t let the dawn in Emancipation, Eye To The Telescope, Issue 21, July 2016 http://eyetothetelescope.com/archives/021issue.html Emancipation It’s a hundred years later and I imagine sharing a bowl of collard greens and cornbread with Abraham Lincoln, but he isn’t dressed in his presidential garb, just jeans and a red plaid shirt; clean shaven. We’re sitting in a small diner in Baltimore. A hickory tree just outside our window. There’s a chill in the air and we order a good hot cup of coffee and… apples. Mr. Lincoln likes apples, all of them. (We saw a bowl of bananas and Golden Delicious on the counter when we came in.) But the coffee is tepid and a bit bitter. Food is supposed to be simpler than politics. But some places are integrated in name only, overt inequality continues to lurk in the smallest corners. We talk about the war, the promises. The creases in his forehead deepen as we look at the still black & white TV, its raster flickering the Riots: looting and fires; smoke. Tears well up in his eyes. You Always Said You Could Swim Like a Fish, Altered Reality Magazine, Aug 2016 http://www.alteredrealitymag.com/you-always-said/ You Always Said You Could Swim Like a Fish You, in that black cocktail dress, red heels stiletto-ing floor. Legs, sinuous in the ballroom. We embrace, my hands on the arch of your back. Outside, salt water sings. Beckons. Caribbean air mists its magic over us. Let us have a drink of that ocean, I said. My eyes follow the curve of your hips all the way down below the waves of silk frilling your dress, your legs twisting into one sensuous form. Sequins on your tight gown glitter as pearly scales, your long brown tresses scent the cool breeze with hyacinth. The ocean whispers. You, the siren of my dreams I wrap myself around, let us sink into the inky depths with just one flick of our hearts. Let us dissolve in a swirl of sea foam tinted with rose-red shimmers stolen from the moon. Let us disappear with one last breath of air. White Lightning, On the Veranda Literary Journal, Issue 1.10, Nov 2016 https://ontheverandaliteraryjournal.wordpress.com/issues/issue-1-10/ White Lightning
September 2015 Jim Beam, that bourbon whiskey, still in a warehouse when lightning struck. Fire-gutted walls gave way to deluge of 800,000 gallons of liquor, burning all the way down the throat of the mountainside to a retention pond. This lake of fire—swill and swirl— caught the thunder of a devil-mean tornado. It sucked up the fire liquid into its own mouth. Hundreds of drunken fish stared. ____________________________ Based on a true event, a Firenado: https://youtu.be/LKTNMbEoOKE Butterfly Wings, Peacock Journal, Dec 2016 http://peacockjournal.com/john-c-mannone-four-poems/ Butterfly Wings The way clouds stencil the Appalachian skies Like wisps of angels The blazing sun disrobing its alate splendor In lavender and gold, quenched in a mountain lake The hourglass wings—remnant of a dying star Whose white dwarf heart embers the dark That swirling in my center when the day-glow of spun light Sifts through your hair when you drift to me within a kiss’ reach Our souls lofted beyond the crystal light, our wings folded Into each other in metamorphosis Our spirits returning on wings resting on oyumel firs, Prayers on our lips Showers of cherry blossoms perfuming air Before lifting into the warm wind And scattering all over the world, touching Everyone, as if grace fluttering from the hand of God Other poems (22 of 29) in the Short Poem Category: Contents Only Zombies of the Sea, 2016 Halloween Podcast, SFPA, Oct 2016 http://www.sfpoetry.com/halloween.html There’s a Howling Among the Stars, Eye To The Telescope, Issue 19, Jan 2016 http://eyetothetelescope.com/archives/019issue.html Pharaoh's Eye, Altered Reality Magazine, Aug 2016 http://www.alteredrealitymag.com/pharaohs-eye/ Phantom of the Trains, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Dec 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/12/phantom-of-trains-by-john-c-mannone.html Blank Pages, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Dec 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/12/blank-pages-by-john-c-mannone-frequent.html Sir Hew Paints Crickets, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Aug 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/08/poem-of-day-sir-hew-paints-crickets-by.html The Rocket Ship in the Attic, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Mar 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/03/poem-of-day-rocket-ship-in-attic-by.html An Mhaighdean Mhara, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Mar 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/03/poem-of-day-mhaighdean-mhara-by-john-c.html Birds on a Wire, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Feb 2016 http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2016/02/poet-of-day-birds-on-wire-by-john-c.html When the Comet Dust Settles, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 Perhaps There Will Be Roses, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 Pebble In Robot Stars, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 The Planets, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 https://tspj3luminari.wordpress.com/2016/04/02/90/
http://visualverse.org/submissions/i-am-light/ Eye of the Stallion, Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words, Vol 3, Ch 11, p 65, Sep 2016 http://visualverse.org/submissions/eye-of-the-stallion/ Face Recognition, Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words, Vol 3, Ch 5, p 109, Mar 2016 http://visualverse.org/submissions/face-recognition/ On the Psychology of Quantum Mechanics, Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words, Vol 3, Ch 4, p 38, Feb 2016 http://visualverse.org/submissions/psychology-quantum-mechanics/ Small Boy on the Dock, Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words, Vol 3, Ch 3, p 83, Jan 2016 http://visualverse.org/submissions/small-boy-dock/ The Free Ride, Last Darn Rites Anthology (Whitesboro Writers, eBook), Dec 2016 I see darkness, Last Darn Rites Anthology (Whitesboro Writers, eBook), Dec 2016 Texas Heat, Last Darn Rites Anthology (Whitesboro Writers, eBook), Dec 2016 The Relative Size of Things, Last Darn Rites Anthology (Whitesboro Writers, eBook), Dec 2016 https://www.amazon.com/Last-Darn-Rites-Whitesboro-Writers-ebook/dp/B01N0FAUDS/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8
https://www.amazon.com/Last-Darn-Rites-Whitesboro-Writers-ebook/dp/B01N0FAUDS/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8 The Scattering of Stars, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 [55 lines] https://tspj3luminari.wordpress.com/2016/04/02/90/ Long Poem Category: Poems Adam’s Rendezvous with Dante, Last Darn Rites Anthology (Whitesboro Writers, eBook), Dec 2016 https://www.amazon.com/Last-Darn-Rites-Whitesboro-Writers-ebook/dp/B01N0FAUDS/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8
I dreamed a dream and saw visions. I tagged along with a fellow named Dante and his poet guide. I listened to him and Virgil rant about a place they called Inferno, but it looked more like a junkyard dump. I had to run from a three-headed dog in the third part of hell and slip into the back of the boat crossing the river Styx to the nether parts. And then again I ran, this time from the Minotaur guarding the seventh gate, wherein there flowed the Phlegethon—a river of boiling blood. I heard splashes, saw pitchforks plunged into bobbing sinners who dared to poke their heads above the hot and roiling waves. Their heads would pop like bubbles, collapse into the turbulence, the violence against humanity gushing there. I wimpered, Where is my son? The one who killed my Abel? How deep has he sunk? Dante said to me, Murderers of lords and kings and kin, have been condemned to the frozen stench below. When I reached the icy wasteland —last of nine godforsaken hells— I found no Cain. There was no fire except from the burning cold. I peered into the abyss, for a moment only saw the leathery warp of wings, heard the whoosh of frigid wind, and the anguish, the weeping & gnashing of teeth, and I saw the three faces of Lucifer masticating the treacherous, the traitors—gore of Judas mixing with the devil’s tears. But I rubbed my eyes and saw no vile beast wearing red-handled underwear nor wielding a three-pronged pitchfork. Instead, I saw an empty place lit only by a dim glow from the baby-faced man with soft blue eyes wearing a garment full of gems. He only feathered his angel wings. Out of the darkness, its voice, Adam! Adam! Why dost thou vilify me? I simply offered you knowledge of the gods. And I said, Sure you did, just as you seduced my wife with gold & silver fruit—no savor, only bitterness of truth, the acid taste of evil. And I… I could only see its glitter. But it was you who killed my two sons. The devil looked up at me from the bottom of the pit, a blaze in his eyes showed his countenance. I gaped at the paltry sight and said, Is this the man who plagued the world? It merely leered. The Scattering of Stars, The Syzygy Poetry Journal, April 2016 https://tspj3luminari.wordpress.com/2016/04/02/90/ The Scattering of Stars When I was young I’d shoot marbles Now I dream Of shooting stars I held a clear glass jar of marbles up to the light in astronomy lab. Challenged my students to count them without twisting the lid and spilling them
that I used to wipe the cat’s eyes, the solids, steelee’s, and boulders with.
with its own universe of stars. Did you ever try to guess how many
inside a foot-high fish bowl at a Ben Franklin five and dime store?
fingering each one of those gumballs from the counter as if to shoot them.
a bright blue pouch of marbles, scorch a circle on the hard winter ground
I pulled from a burning pile of wood— flames bursting the cold edge of air.
tossing four marbles into a sack, shook them well and emptied them
lots. I shot first. Flaming red hair crowning my focused eyes.
to the elbow, and worked a marble from the palm of my hand
under my forefinger, to the nook of my boney catapult.
and jettisoned a clear red marble. It sped along the universe of dirt,
of its glass fins. It rolled like a supergiant full of glass layers.
and the scattering of stars. Then splintered into shards.
of the ring, its onyx glass not flung as the other ones were one-by-one.
God always shows his hand. Who would have thought
weaved in between those marble stars? Directory: 2017 2017 -> 2017 afoCo Landmark Scholarship Program 2017 -> Florida Supplement to the 2015 ibc chapters 1-35 icc edit version note 1 2017 -> Florida Supplement to the 2015 ibc chapters 1-35 icc edit version note 1 2017 -> 2017 global korea scholarship korean Government Scholarship Program Application Guidelines for Undergraduate Degrees 2017 -> Department of natural resources 2017 -> Kansas 4-h shooting Sports Committee Application 2017 -> Astronomy (C) Teams will demonstrate an understanding of stellar evolution and Type Ia supernova. Bottle Rocket (B) 2017 -> Alabama Association of Educational Opportunity Program Personnel College Scholarship Competition 2017 -> Alabama Association of Educational Opportunity Program Personnel Survivor Scholarship Competition 2017 -> Recitals 2 Article 1 General Provisions 4 a 1 Purpose 4 b 2 Applicable Law and Regulation 4 Download 58.49 Kb. Share with your friends:
|