Thank you to all those who submitted to Being in Bodies. The judge, John L. Stanizzi, has made the following comments and selections:
These poems were a joy to read, and congratulations to all of you. It is quite lovely to be assured that “good” poetry, the “real thing,” is alive and well.
What stood out for me the most obviously was the incredible number of startling, compelling, unique, and fresh imagery. It was truly unbelievable. In fact, there were times when I read images that were utterly new – brand new ways to come at the notion of an image, and I was amazed.
Compliments and praise to all of you. This stack of work was brimming with first-rate poetry.
First prize: ‘Snowstorm’ by Maddy Sneep
i.
It’s 32° indoors and my breath is a cloud of smoke wafting out of the chimney. We are cold and uncomfortable and the elderly could freeze to death but there’s no work to do today. Everyone drops everything and puts on three pairs of socks.
ii.
It’s the only business in the neighborhood with power, a red-roofed gas station with no gas. We stand in line for an hour waiting to buy a cup of coffee. Hold the paper cups to our heartbeats like the hand of a lover.
iii.
Nobody goes to the playground during a winter storm. But then again there’s the empty swing-set and the midday sun and the crisp, diamond stillness. There’s wind that sounds like ocean and you can’t feel your ears. The world doesn’t stop for a faulty power grid, but doesn’t it, after all?
iv.
We use the gas stove to make spaghetti, sit around the table like a little family. Eat by candlelight and play a card game, phones all but dead. The man who never speaks about his feelings tells us he’s insecure. We are criss-crossed on the floor, shivering and alive.
Second prize: ‘Retrace’ by Erika Jing
When death comes by our window, I will first repeat all my words: Burn, bush, bird, breaking, breadth, have, had, has, lived, lift, lick, dark, hearth, heat, heap, leap, season.
I will brush his shoulders, once the doors open.
Third prize: ‘Bauernschlau’ by Ruth Beddow
bauernschlau (adj.): literally, “farm-smart”, the German equivalent of “street-wise”
When I’m watering the lettuce, I’m not thinking about that text I sent or the whereabouts of my IUD. Just how to make the roots as wet as possible in the least possible time, without burning the leaves.
The forty-something Bulgarian gardener has explained this process eleven times. I counted. Das habe ich verstanden. Das habe ich vielmals gemacht. As usual, though, his loneliness outweighs misogyny, tugs the heartstrings until they’re soft. So when he asks about my weekend plans, I tell him. In a way that says you’re not invited, but also, please don’t kill me with a shovel:
renting a car, driving alone, how I love to drive, it’s the only time my mind is still, smooth EU-funded tarmac through the Alps, caught in a shower then squinting, fumbling for sunglasses, looping the Eibsee and diving into its crystal blue water. Hast du kein Angst? is all he had to say on the matter. In other words, a woman should fear existence.
That night, walking to my trailer, the moon is a perfect half apricot in the undark sky. Long, damp grass grazes long-unshaven legs. If I believed in god, this place would make an excellent purgatory: an empty wheelbarrow flipped in the dung, a dog that hates me.
I ask the light what I’ve been waiting for. To leave my home? To become more wise?
At times like these I wish I’d learned the names of more wildflowers; how lakes exist at such high altitude. Why the moon is big some nights and others, small. To paint unease. To defend myself when I’m asleep.
The following poems have been highly commended and will be published alongside the prizewinners in a special issue of The Passionfruit Review:
‘family business’ – Erika Jing ‘Walking Stick’ – Caroline Anne Smith ‘The philosopher’s axe’ – Alison Binney ‘21.09.2023 Dr Kazan’ – Yaz Nin ‘This Town’ – Dan Stathers ‘girl in a garden’ – Danielle McMahon ‘My Wedding Day’ – Farzana Nasrin ‘Mortification of the flesh’ – JP Seabright ‘MRI’ – Scarlett Ward ‘A postpartum pantoum’ – Lydia Ruth Watson ‘Here we go again (phlebotomy)’ – Sarah B. Cahalan ‘It’s gathering dust but it’s there’ – Galia Admoni ‘Witness’ – Bex Hainsworth ‘Courtship’ – Alison Binney
ABOUT THE JUDGE
John L. Stanizzi is the author of fourteen books: Ecstasy Among Ghosts, Sleepwalking, Dance Against the Wall, After the Bell, Hallelujah Time, High Tide-Ebb Tide, Chants, Four Bits, Sundowning, The Tree that Lights the Way Home, POND, Feathers and Bones, Viper Brain and SEE.
John is a former Wesleyan University Etherington Scholar. He is also a semi-retired English Professor at Manchester Community college in Connecticut. John was appointed The New England Poet of the Year in 1998. His memoir, Bless Me Father for I have Sinned will be ready for publication this coming summer. John has just completed judging New England’s “New England Poet of the Year” contest. He has worked as a Teaching Artist with “Poetry Out Loud,” the Poetry Foundation’s national recitation contest. John also curated the Connecticut “Fresh Voices Competition,” a contest for high school students all over Connecticut. For many years, John has also been in charge of The College/University Poet of the year. Recently, he just finished judging a contest for adult poets in London, and he is about to judge a contest of high school students in Belfast.
