Boris Schleinkofer, poetrywatch editor
“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
Do You Enjoy poetrywatch?
Want to see it continue? Then please, send your poems to us and let the Whatcom Watch share them with our readership! Seriously, we really do want your roughly 25-line poems though length is by no means a deal-breaker; it’s how you use those lines. Featuring or specific to Whatcom County and issues addressed by Whatcom Watch such as government, the environment and media. Send your poems to: firstname.lastname@example.org and let’s make magic happen.
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 email@example.com. 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.
Wild and scenic aneurysm
by Timothy Pilgrim
Love dies like river — slows, ceases
to flow, she says, tearless, then goes.
My fuchsia future lies ahead,
signals loss around the bend,
beyond swallow breath, stop, hold —
like a waterfall gone dry, nothing
wet below. Even campfires fade
to glow, become timid embers,
give off a scarlet warning — black
follows gray. Sullen sun, hung low
in the sky, clings to red,
plunges over night’s black edge.
Timothy Pilgrim, emeritus associate professor of journalism at Western Washington University, has published hundreds of poems. He is author of “Mapping Water” (Flying Trout Press, 2016). His work can be found at timothypilgrim.org.
Two x Two
(two Raven pairs flying)
by David P. Drummond
Through a swirling
mystical fog, the moonsun
in his roundness
Beaming, not beaming
Left to right, black ink
fingers flip-up, flap
down, in unison, utter mythical
“Kroaks of Knowing”
Waving their Wings
of Wonder and
Away > >
(Ominous Omens, Not)
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.