A Treasure Chest--And It Could Be Yours

        My favorite poet is Mary Karr  Adrienne Rich  Emily Dickinson . Okay, I have many favorites, and it depends on my mood. I have many collections of poetry on my bookshelf.

        But daily, I turn to Shay and Mama Zen for their mind-blowing poetry. Every day--sometimes twice a day in Shay's case) they post poetry. Shay's is sometimes whimsical, sometimes sharp but always inspiring. Mama Zen can do more with just a few lines than anyone I know. On the back of their book it notes that Mama Zen (Kelli Simpson) "is the Mistress of the short poem" but I would beg to differ; I think she's the dominatrix of short poems. She's fierce, she's most likely rocking some gorgeous boots, and she's always cracking the whip, reminding us that every word counts.

        Now I have another great collection of poetry to savor--created by three contemporary poets.

I'm sorry, but I cannot manage to link this book cover to Amazon, but you know
how to click onto Amazon and buy a copy or two, don't you?

         Hedgewitch (Joy Ann Jones), the third point in this triangle of talent, joins Shay Caroline Simmons and Kelli in this poetic powerhouse.

         When this book came out, I bought three copies. One for a dear friend, one for me, and one to give away. It's a true treasure of a book.

         To get a chance, leave a comment. And since I don't want to go to jail over including any of their poems/lines to entice you, I will share a poem that Shay wrote especially for me (I gave her the topic and she delivered). This poem is framed  and hangs in my study:

                           Damn the Match

I said, damn the match that set me on fire
But no one heard--
So I fanned myself with books, and oh
How I burned.

Damn the one who made me feel nothingly small,
This lonesome girl--
Then I spit my anger on a black-curling page,
And blistered the world.

Damn the distance that keeps my love from me,
The miles are sin--
Then I wrote out my love as a pink-fire dawn,
Warm on her skin.

Bless the match that each finger is,
To strike what I feel into words that be
An incendiary flow from soul to sky,
One burned-bright star that's made from...me.

                                    --Shay Caroline

(Hey, Shay. If this is a copyright infringement, please send the police immediately. It's the end of the school year and I would loooove to be in jail right about now, so I can miss the last couple of crazy weeks.)


       So, leave a comment. I'll announce the winner in a week. Good luck.