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Lanier bust

 

SIDNEY LANIER POETRY COMPETITION

The Sidney Lanier Poetry Competition, sponsored by the Lanier Library, is open to poets from both North and South Carolina whose works have not been published in book form. Please check in December 2013 for information about the 2014 contest. The application will be updated at that time.

Please click HERE for a downloadable contest application.

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The fifth annual Sidney Lanier Poetry Competition awards were presented at the Lanier Library on April 27, 2013.

 

Prizes amounting to $1,150 were awarded as follows:  in the adult competition, 1st, Lee Stockdale of Tryon for "The Barn"; 2nd, Richard Danforth of Columbus for "Deadbolt"; 3rd. Lynn Paul Elwell of Durham of "Do You Remember?",   Chelsea Regoni of Campobello won all three prizes in the student competition, 1st. "Fourth Grade Gym Class", 2nd, "Camp 14", and 3rd, "The Year You Taught Religion".  Prizes in the humor category went to 1st, Lynn Paul Elwell of Durham for "Insanity Plea", 2nd John Steele of Black Mountain for "Lament for Cat, My Cat", and 3rd, Tom Hooker of Hendersonville for "Eponimosity".

The following entries in the adult competition were awarded an Honorable Mention:  Richard Danforth of Columbus for "Breaking Fast" and for "Work for Food"; Aly Goodwin of Spartanburg for "Field Pilgrim"; Suzanna Linton of Florence for "Red Bank"; Monica Jones of Tryon for "Softly Sleeping"; Lynn Paul Elwell of Durham for "Snowglobe"; Sherry Champion of Landrum for "Horsefly"; and Janet Atkins of Greenville  for "Retrospective on an Empty Nest".  In the humor category poems receiving honorable mentions were "Sonnet for the Class of 2014" by Bill Dalton of Beaufort, SC, and "Ode to Eflexor" by John Steele of Black Mountain.

 

In the student competition the following awards were given for Honorably Mentioned poems:  Nicholas DeSoiza of Greer for "The Child in the Corner", Katelyn McCall of Landrum for "On Drowning", Canon Blackwell of Simpsonville for "Vater, otoc, agus athair", and Chelsea Regoni for "Geese, Dolphins, and the Death of a Mate" and "A Playlist for the March of We".

 

 

"The Barn"

by Lee Stockwell


The resistance nonexistent
Phantom ghosts or pathetically inept
They said there’d be one candle in the window
There might as well be a candle
In every window of every house in the village

There’s straw everywhere
They’ve scattered it all over the streets
Like a bandage
To heal them
Make everything all right
To cover the putrid smell

Women shrieking
What are they shrieking for?
This is nothing

Cur dogs licking bones

Children
Wide, terrified eyes
In bombed-out stairwells
What could you do?
Put her in your backpack?
I had nothing
We had nothing

We felt like savages
Not conquering heroes
Pride!
No one had any pride
Dignity, pride
In the sewer

For what?
For pride

We found a barn
And collapsed inside
Tobin starts blabbering
To the pigeons
To the lantern’s waltzing shadows

Tobin!
Shut up!
Go to sleep!

He’s onto the swastika now
Ruminating
Says it’s really an okay symbol
It’s got sty-yle

I got up and took down the lantern
Crashed it across his California skull

The straw went up in flames
We tried to put it out
The Captain says Forget it
Get your gear and get out

We invade these people’s houses
Bully our way in
They feign a welcome
What could they do?

I went into one and turned right around
Eyes so confused
Soldiers!
Americans!
Teeth literally chattering
In unison
Four or five families
Huddled
Cowering in a corner
Waiting to be murdered

That sound
Teeth audibly clicking
I thought
You know
Teeth chattering
It’s just a saying
I still hear teeth clicking

I wished
I was back
In the burning barn

 

"Fourth Grade Gym Class"

 

by Chelsea Regoni

Consider a group of children herded

beneath the shelter of cameras. Consider

 

them whipped until baseball diamonds

 

hide blades of late November's grass.  A mound

of dirt.  Consider the boy named Andrew

 

and six children are herded behind painted

lines.  They are the legs of caterpillars

 

waiting to be fed the dew running across

the seams of fallen baseballs.  Few children

 

guard diamonds and a plate named home.

Many shape themselves into the field

 

back there in order to avoid the impact

of strike one, two, three.  They made

 

it all up and were umpires to a game

they never wanted to play.  Consider the

 

girl who picked up a club and tasted

the freeze of air as sphere came

 

rushing in and her arms swung like see-

saws.  Consider the leather as it rushed toward her,

 

smoothing tension into the children's breathing

and the club was lost to the feet of caterpillar

 

after the impact of wood against cow skin and

the tips of feet pounding against the earth.

 

She pressed herself into the air and

flew across diamonds before her knees

 

and chin tasted filth, the quiet of winning

for the first time.  Later, she will spiral the

 

victory around her tongue, push it against

her teeth.  She will think of Andrew and how

 

he crouched like a field of lions, waiting

for her to hush herself into submission.  She

 

will consider her arms as they reached toward Andrew.

Consider her lips as they pushed into his feet.