Callahan's 1998 Poetry Contest

Our Winning Entries

This year, Callahan's Annual Poetry Contest focused on "Politics and Society", along with our permanent category, "Poems About Callahans." All forms of poetry were welcome, from haiku, to free verse, to verses rhymed and metered.

Callahan's also offered prizes (both cash and books) in this year's contest.

Participation was excellent, and we hope you enjoy the following winning entries. For more selections of Callahan's Poetry, visit our Poetry Page, or join us in live chat on alternate Thursday nights for Callahan's Poetry Evening, with Peter PHDESMOND.

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We hope you enjoy our first place poem, The State Is A Chill Parent, by Stormdanced (Jo Lady) as well as our second place winner, [battering], by Janie Bowman and our third place poem, Bad Air Day, by Cortland Richmond. Finally, there was an effort worthy of an honorable mention, Soldiers by Debra Grace Khattab/Sciaf

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The State is a Chill Parent

By Jo Lady

come into my steel cold arms
I will protect you
from those
who dare
discipline you
in ways not ordained by me
your parents aren't qualified
I do not respect them
I judge
there are no rules but mine and
I create them at will
my will
You're safe in my metal grip
safe from conscience
from love
come into my cast-iron mouth
I will carefully
mold you
roll you
round my barbed tongue
or spit you into the streets

Copyright (c) 1998 by Jo Lady

Jo Lady is a writing workshop/event host on Prodigy and an assistant for Rest Stop Writers on Delphi. She is currently working on a novel.

Jo Lady's Home Page
Stormdanced's (Jo Lady's) Delphi Page

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Second prize goes to Janie Bowman JANIEBOW for:

[battering]

By Janie Bowman

she was a young pine
imprisoned by the wind
a spindle in the midst
of a tireless battering cyclone
there was a certain comfort
an addictive continuity
in the rage around her
where sometimes she could stand
never making a stir
and fade into the quiet center
the cyclone would bear down
on nothing but dirt
spin off a storm of insults
building its own exhaustion
but sooner or later
no inconspicuous time
would calm the craving
for shallow roots
to rip and twist
and slam to the ground
contorted beyond recognition
as the one living thing
too wounded to refuse
pouring for mercy
that sugary sap
thicker than any blood
and for as long as it could
stand to live
never daring to run
dry

Copyright (c) 1998 Janie Bowman

Janie Bowman is a data processing manager and a native of western North Carolina. She currently lives in coastal Georgia, and writes poetry in every minute of spare time she can find.

Finally, third prize goes to KA5S:

Bad Air Day

By Cortland Richmond

Bad air day, the radio says;
Bad air is when is when you wish
You'd stayed in bed,
Instead of driving to work, choking
On the smog and the stale breath
Of the guy stalled next to you
With a garlic sandwich.
Spare the air, the radio says,
That must mean,
Don't breathe today:
Affirmative action for corpses.
You got any spare air, buddy?
How about some oxygen, slightly polluted?
Bad air day?
BAD air! Go to your room!
Lets have vacuum for a while,
And clean the place up.
Ill just go off in a corner
And commit respiration
With bad air.

Copyright (c) Cortland Richmond 1998

Cortland is an engineer/poet who has been known to compare falling in love with the science of aerodynamics. And not many poets spent 21 years in the Army.

Honorable Mention

(whispered)
"Don't you know the soldiers come
the soldiers come for everyone"

They broke down the church door
and scattered all the pews
silenced the preacher
before he gave his views
the couple to be married
were dressed in black and white
they ended life together
shot out of our sight

They broke into the hospital
barged in every room
herded out the doctors
the orderly with his broom
the nurses brought the injured
the father brought his child
the soldiers left their corpses
twitching in a pile

(Shouted)
"Don't you know the soldiers come
the soldiers come for everyone"

(whispered into a Shout)
"Mothers hold your babies, clutching them so tight
Fathers guide your children out into the sunlight
people help your elders stumble down the street
while you watch your buildings crumble round your feet"

The wealthiest banker
the old woman who sews
they won't let you hide
you've everything to lose
they'll come in your bedroom
they'll come in your store
the motels are not safe
not even the whores

They'll come with their rifles
and guns at their side
their uniforms are pressed
in unity they hide
they'll bury your mayor
they'll bury your wife
don't try to run
they'll cut you with their knife

(Marching)
"Don't you know the soldiers come
the soldiers come for everyone"

We once owned the soldiers
believed all their lies
said that we needed them
to help run our lives
now our lives are over
and they will carry on
they've left us a graveyard
and this simple song

(mournful resignation)
"Don't you know the soldiers come
the soldiers come for everyone
Don't you know the soldiers come
the soldiers come for....you"

Dedicated to those who lost their lives in Sarajevo, in the Holocaust, in Central America, in Tibet, in the Middle East, in Afghanistan, and on and on...

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