Public Republic

2010 Poetry Chapbook Contest Results
Accents Publishing is proud to announce the results of its 2010 Poetry Chapbook Contest.
Metes and Bounds, by J. Kates, was selected by judge Dr. Richard Taylor.
Plein Jeu, by E. C. Belli, was selected by Accents Publishing Senior Editor Katerina Stoykova-Klemer.
Both of these entries will be published as perfect-bound chapbooks, and [...]

Peter Kraevski

Photo: yogendra174
Oh, fruit of light!
Swell with love!
Ripen with sadness!
Sweeten juices – dreams!
And let your fragrant thoughts
be honeyed dew
upon your tender skin!

Donal Mahoney

Photo: bsabarnowl
Rogers Park, Chicago
This brilliant winter morning finds
waves of snow on every lawn
and red graffiti dripping
from the walls
of Temple Mizpah
once again
as down the street
stroll ancient men
who every morning
shuffle here for prayer.

Michael Lee Johnson

Photo: Robert Marin
Rebecca fantasized that life was a lottery ticket or a pull of a lever,
that one of the bunch in her pocket was a winner or the slots were a redeemer;
but life itself was not real that was strictly for the mentally insane at the Elgin
Mental Institution.
She gambled her savings away on [...]

Colleen Harris

Photo: the bbp
He wrote about dull mountainside detail,
said they wanted books on anything but war.
Ecstatic the way only a librarian can be,
she mailed ten boxes and promised more.

Martha Gehringer

Photo: flikr
On the subject of bad weather
the red rough Burren cows are sage:
if only to say that
in wind like this
     that drives the rain     like a whipping
you must pull together,
               haunch to haunch,
                    and bow your heads
                         and be.
               That simple.
Bow your tufted heads
                       and
                    be.

Simon Perchik

Photo: claire1066
No one gets hurt, you pump
into a parachute, cup one hand
to float down, the other
as if water could rub off
the way the sky still gushes
from the once blue Earth
and your sleeve tearing apart

Martha Gehringer

Photo: Tony the Misfit
(Isaiah 58:5)
The trees
              scrub
the winter sky—
              scour away
the grey—
                            and I,
I bow
my head
                       like
              a reed.

Julie Barbour
Photo: ciadefoto
I long for you, the sad heat of your skin,
the flakes of skin in your hair,
your shallow breath when you sleep,
your sour breath haunting the room.
I long for your voice, grouchy, uncertain,

Donal Mahoney

Photo: Lady-bug
My wife has a problem
with any poem
I give her to read
for a second opinion
especially when the poem
has no message
and my goal is
simply to hear
what I’m saying
and not care if
I understand it.

Simon Perchik

Photo: JennyHuang
And you, licking this reef
the way herds are nourished
with salt –even your tongue
has a trace, bitter, brackish
stings though salt
is what keeps stone stone

Aksinia Mihailova

Photo: bslmmrs
When you leave
pieces of yourself
in the bodies of other women
and try desperately
to find yourself
complete
in the words,
I see our home
like a ghost boat
floating against the current
of the river;
but the boatman is [...]

Kristin Dimitrova

Photo: crsan
During the concert, between
Iron Men and Bark at the Moon
the music kicked out at faces
of screaming kids,
rock veterans with thinning muscles
bashed their gray ponytails, teenage girls

Julie Barbour

[...]

Kristin Dimitrova

Photo: benandbarnet
Like an ant that hauls a crumb
but has forgotten where the ant-hill is,
she stares at details,
then cleans the sink very carefully.
These things that happen in films,
who invents them?

Martha Gehringer

Photo: gmehender
Velvet blue behind—
sheer white before—
and rain
            like a curtain
                         pulled.
            The furze
                               waves
           its fuzzy paw.

Kristin Dimitrova

Photo: In a N.Y. State Of Mind
To my grandmother and yours
‘My grandmother and I got on with each other
without meaning to. I didn’t mean
to say that.’
‘I remember how she kneaded and kneaded
with her arthritic hands while I hung around
asking her to give me a little piece of dough.
Oh, get away from me, she [...]

Mariana Velichkova

Photo: hickory hardscrabble
You have told me:
Your heart is a bird.
On my question
What kind?

Colleen Harris

Photo: The U.S. Army
So still, you couldn’t have been
anything other than hunkered
down, waiting to weather
the next barrage. I was sure
of it. You were tucked tight,
and dead men sprawl the way
men do after mind-numbing sex.

An interview by Yasen Vasilev and Natalia Nikolaeva with Virginia Zaharieva
Translation from Bulgarian: Asya Draganova

“Stories can teach, repair mistakes, enlighten the heart and chase away the dark, they can provide psychological shelter, and contribute to change and the healing of wounds.”
Clarissa Pinkola Estés
The reason for our meeting with Virginia Zaharieva is her [...]