poetrywatch

“When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.” — John F. Kennedy

Artwork by Hilary Cole

Subject matter is unlimited, but poetry featuring or specific to Whatcom County and issues addressed by Whatcom Watch (government, the environment and media) will likely get first preference. Please keep it to around 25 lines; otherwise, we might have to edit your work to fit. Don’t make yourself unprintable. Send poems and your short, two- or three-sentence bios as a word document attachment to poetry@whatcomwatch.org. The deadline is the first day of the month. Please understand that acceptance and final appearance of pieces are subject to space constraints and editorial requirements. By submitting, authors give Whatcom Watch permission for one-time publication rights in the paper and electronic editions.

        Vagalume

by David P. Drummond (with Jucelia Gil Pinton)

(social commentary)
Without a home, save for
the “big church of life”
Only a one lumen Light
but, 100% “efficient”, he
wanders without social
economic or ego-centric
tether o’ responsibility
A viable and attractive
portfolio with 13 genera
planet-wide, not bad for
a “bug,” yea, despicable
and Very suc-cess-ful
Always amongst us, but
seldom seen, look late
in your youthful backyard
night, or overhead amidst
brightest night sky stars
Meet my Mentor
Mr. Firefly~
_________________________________
David P. Drummond is a wildlife biologist, naturalist-educator who loves Being in Nature, where the poignant experiences of life often inspire him to surreal expressions.

 

XVIII

by Vincent Sementelli (writing as Fjord Bjornson)

Glistering gold and bright surgery
Brilliant in their fetters
Curettage for unwanted thoughts
Swimming swans dart about
Forming patterns in the waves
Little rainstorms of meat
And mind, making residence
Over bodies of salt
And water

Dripping along in growing spirals
Crawling deep down hyperbolae
Sung in white-golden song
And spun out in wheels of bright
Nature

Cozy little warmths
All rich and waiting
Black moths in sources
Ensorcelled in a snare of yellow
Heat just begging for infinite
direction

And diminishing needs to guess,
to work,
To see, to eat, and to encapsulate your
stress
__________________________________________
Vincent Sementelli writes as a scientific journalist for the National Park Service, publishing within the Sonoran Desert Network. Selected poems as S.L.V. Stronwin published at The Writing Disorder, and self-published poetry and prose is available under far too many pseudonyms online.

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