Tuesday, August 22, 2006

"What Inspires You?" Poetry Contest Deadline Is Here!

What inspires you? Tell me in a poem of thirty lines or less, any form. Send your entries to me at editorctrip@yahoo.com by midnight on Thursday, August 31, Eastern time. Winners will be published here on my blog and first prize winner also receives a copy of the CD of the Charlotte production of highlights from the musical by composer Erik Sitbon and myself, "Jack The Musical: The Ripper Pursued." Good luck!


Abbott and Costello

My new white baseball cap says
in front "Abbott and Costello"
"Who's on First?" in back, bought

for the yellow Seadog powerboat
ride on Lake Michigan, a-chunka,
a-chunka, a-chunka, spray

in my face, grab onto my cap,
keep the burn off my balding head;
ride the Irish-green Chicago River,

gaze giddy up at the Sears Tower,
Chris, the kid tour guide, babbling
about Al Capone and Patrick the Duck.

And I think, you're there,
and I'm here, hold onto
my cap. "Who's on First?"

God's Light Show

Our plane begins its descent to
Baltimore, distant clouds illumined
with stark bursts of lightning
which flare behind cumulo-nimbus;
we reclaim our luggage -- it's
midnight, streets drenched.

This a.m., two monarch butterflies duelled
in crystal light over zinnias as
traffic surged on Chicago's
Magnificent Mile. I dropped three bucks
in a plastic cup with homemade sign
by Nordstrom's: "Hungry. God Bless U."

The Trouble with Fluff

I find it in my pocket
with my change and my keys,
in the corners of this room

that I clean because
the computer tech's coming,
dust and grit, fabric fluff,
my old shed skin scales, cat fur--

That girl's a nice bit of fluff.
The world's in a fluff.
Fluff in a navel.
Fluff is just stuff.

The TV's full of fluff,
movie actors act in fluff,
sequels to sequels to sequels,
pure unadulterated fluff.

Cut out the fluff
and give us something real.

I fluffed my lines
on entering in "Bus Stop"
watching the fake snow fall
--all that fluff drifting down.

I must clean this corner
of all this fluff: sheddings
of humans and cats and house --
there's too much living going on!
-- just wish there was more gelt
in my pocket and less fluff.

Christopher T. George