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
Poetry has a voice in our community, and the Whatcom Watch is adding to its chorus. You all love poetry, right? Well, here you go!
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 firstname.lastname@example.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 express permission for first-time publication rights in paper and electronic editions of current or future volumes of Whatcom Watch.
Free the Snake
by Eric R. Kosarot
In a quiet mind
the pools of past grow still
and I see right to the bottom.
Wading in the creek
shadows slither by my legs.
Salmon have returned
many times before
any dam blocked the wild flow
snaking out to sea.
Eric R. Kosarot, born in the Pacific Northwest, practices writing as a path to connect with self, community, and place. He currently lives with his family in their yurt beside Squalicum Mountain in Whatcom County.
“In the Now”
by Tony Noordmans
As I approach the Good Harbor Bay shore, I am greeted by the laughter of Gulls (just being gulls) flying sorties, picnicking and dropping along the waters’ edge.
I watch as the waves form and reform the sandy edge.
As I continue to stroll barefoot along the watery sand edge;
ahead of me, a covey of Sandpipers tease me on with short flights and intermittent runs,their light footprints creating filigree patterns in the soaked sand, only to be washed out in a moment, right before my very eyes.
The birds again lifting in short flight — landing,creating another Now moment for me to see.
I watch with wonder, the easy ebb and flow of the blue green water transforming the shore with each wave, at each moving moment, Now, never to be the same again.
Viewing my foot prints in the wet sand, I noticed, they too appear and disappear with the timing of the waves; onto, off to shores for Now; realizing, within these moments, I too am living in the Universal NOW.
Tony Noordmans lives in the Ferndale area. He’s a retired construction trades instructor and enjoys addressing the issues of energy options now.