A WINNER IN THE BUCKET!

I have to tell this good news to somebody!
So I guess I will tell my blog readers. I only know some of you personally, but my statistics now say that over the years you number in the thousands, and that makes you special to me.

So here goes nothing-- Yesterday I received a phone call from Tina Cane, the Poet Laureate of Rhode Island. She called to tell me that I had won the poetry in motion RIPTA contest. The  poem selected will be on the RIPTA buses during the month of January.
I was surprised and really thrilled,  I had sent in an entry in November at the suggestion of Patti McAlpine, the poet who organized the Galway Kinnel Poetry Festival in Pawtucket.

I  submitted three poems in three different forms: a sonnet, a linked  sijo and a contemporary ghazal (pronounce guzzle). I like to play with traditional forms because they are so rich, and they must continue to sing in our own times with contemporary content and not be seen as relics of the past.

The poem that won is a poem about Pawtucket. It is actually an homage to a great classic poem of American modernism, HOWL by Allen Ginsberg. I used a line from that poem: "I am with you in Rockland" becomes the refrain of my ghazal "I am with you in Pawtucket".

WELL HERE IS THE WINNER!!

GHAZAL HOWL IN PAWTUCKET-- Circa 1959

I trembled as I sneaked a smoke with O'Dowl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

A leather-jacketed boy with a scowl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

On the Bridge I feared some gossip, who knew my mother, was sitting

spying from the bus, cheek and jowl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

Me standing there: cigarette dangling, blue uniform skirt rolled

thigh high, turtleneck my only cowl, I am with you in in Pawtucket.

Hiding my Catholic school badge, mouth smeared with white lipstick.

Eyes outlined in kohl like a baby owl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

Where is little Lucille, who would skate with me those cold starry nights?

At the Blue Pond we were on the prowl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

Where is Roland-- red sweater, white '51 Ford with fairy fringe?

All dazzling smiles, jokes, no scowl. I am with you in Pawtucket.

That boy I met in the Back lots showed me where he hunted.

Seeking flints, shard of Indian bowl. I am with you in Pawtucket.

Oh,we married for a while; our son called last night.So where am I?

I read Bronte; hear Heathcliff's yowl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

First and Last Chance to walk past Peerless, Shartenberg's,Windsor.

The LeRoy for a late show--one last howl, I am with you in Pawtucket.

Stroll up Broad to Warner's Ballroom, sounds of “Harlem Nocturne”.

Blues sax paints the world, mirror ball rolls, I am with you in Pawtucket.

Speckled light on gingham, your cheek pressed to mine.“This is our song.

Norma, it'll always be our song,” you growl. I am with you in Pawtucket.