Contest Awards And Guidelines All Explained

the henchmen came for Poetry in the end

to nab it in a cherry-colored dishcloth

but Poetry was non-compliant, a capella

laughing from the silver rafters;

 Firebird-flowing into every quadrant left

by the builders, frightened from the site

by the same old bullies who

showed up yesterday

the ones to decide, from year to year, the same,

if birds may sing

the songs they would sing anyway...

on a partyless planet,
imagine that.

and here's their process and the

cutting room floor and

here's the closeup of them:

stomping to glittering mica-smithereens

behind the doors of faux deliberation:

the cherry colored mandolin-

that kept on chirping.

ah, Poetry fluffed its sparkling feathers

far above the Zdhanov reborn guidelines of the

world-wide raffles:

unmindful of the spaghetti dinners, garlic bread

butter-soaked and the Bingo callers calling everywhere

the pre-arranged numbers by the coffee can

Christmas confetti candles you always wanted to buy

for the whole Family...

oh tell me why you have it in your grasp to grasp

the poem by the throat and shake out its diamonds

and then slit its throat in copy machine 
triplicate, triplicate triplicate...

after asking God to leave the room.

"Beauty, Truth and Goodness, still" an unawarded someone

whispered from the wings unto a final radiance
 still unpublished...

ah then I am not 

that paper boat floating in a green tributary about to be

choked off and clouded over, was muttered at the afternoon mail

what does Poetry itself need

with the long-stemmed roses and the

name in lights; it's

the Phoenix-Light-Itself, so stand-alone-

no matter how many contests strangle it-

mary angela douglas 17 june 2011;11 december 2014