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
Do You Enjoy poetrywatch?
Want to see it continue? Then please, send your poems to us and let the Whatcom Watch share them with our readership! Seriously, we really do want your roughly 25-line poems though length is by no means a deal-breaker; it’s how you use those lines. Featuring or specific to Whatcom County and issues addressed by Whatcom Watch such as government, the environment and media. Send your poems to: firstname.lastname@example.org and let’s make magic happen.
Artwork by Hilary Cole
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 email@example.com.
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 permission for one-time publication rights in the paper and electronic editions._
by Richard G. Tucker
Holly Street sidewalk near the Drop-in Center-
Many people standing, sitting, lying down, sleeping, waiting.
Smoking lady, laughing guy,
Crying woman, old man,
Some are talking — “The sun comes in the doorway in the morning.”
Tony go?” “It’ll rain, you can have the sweater.”
Nomads in a desert of concrete.
Voyagers with outdoor faces.
Grocery carts into the wind.
Richard G. Tucker has not published any work of this type before, but has several songs published with Peer Intl., for which he receives biannual royalties.
by Timothy Pilgrim
Time to end climate debate.
Put snails, slugs to use —
revenge for eaten marigold,
iris, tulip, rose, anything else
green that grows. Creative payback
for half-eaten beans, grape leaves,
arugula, chard, peas. Toss each
in pail, swish them slimeless,
rinse clean. Next-door denier —
his second sin, Fox News
spewed loud at night — text him,
come, argue world’s end.
Offer Bread Farm loaf, or two,
non-GMO. Brie, aperitif, Pernod.
A neighborly pile of escargot.
Timothy Pilgrim, emeritus associate professor of journalism at Western Washington University, has published hundreds of poems. He is author of “Mapping Water” (Flying Trout Press, 2016). His work can be found at timothypilgrim.org.