ONLY poems listed here or in the current printed anthology are eligible for the 2017-2018 competition.
I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom, ...
When others run to windows or out of doors
To catch the sunset whole, he is content
With any segment anywhere he sits....
A professor invites me to his “Black Lit” class; they’re
reading Larson’s Passing. One of the black
students says, “Sometimes light-skinned blacks...
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields, ...
They explained to me the bloody bandages
On the floor in the maternity ward in Rochester, N.Y.,
Cured the backache I acquired bowing to my old master, ...
Remember when you love, from that same hour
Your peace you put into your lover’s power;
From that same hour from him you laws receive, ...
I collect them now, it seems. Like
sea-shells or old
thimbles. One for ...
a peach he said
and held it out just far...
Fire ran horrified
from its ashes.
Today is a trumpet to set the hounds baying.
The past is a fox the hunters are flaying.
Nothing unspoken goes without saying....
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