Poetry Circle Joins the InterBoard Poetry Community

Effective in June, Poetry Circle will be a part of the InterBoard Poetry Community (IBPC), a website designed to support and enhance exposure of poetry forums to the poetry community. The IBPC publishes a monthly contest of work submitted by the member forums. A group (1st, 2nd, etc.) of poems are selected by a judge and posted on the IBPC board. IBPC is powered by Web Del Sol and you can follow the link below to learn more and even explore the other forums that are part of the network. You may even find other forums that appeal to your interests. Additionally, the IBPC board publishes a column by Rus Bowden culling from the print media news of poetry and poets.

We will participate in the monthly submission by selecting 2 poems from the Front Page and Editor’s Picks Board, The process is still being tuned, but we will begin with this month for June.

I think you will find the resource a great benefit and valuable extension of your reading and exposure to what is going on in the world of poetry.

http://ibpc.webdelsol.com/

Such an exciting development.

If this means what I think it means, I think it presumes too much, and that an author should be asked to confirm whether he or she wants that poem to go forward to the IBPC. There may be any number of reasons why an author would prefer that not to happen.

I believe individual participation in the IBPC process should be voluntary and not compulsory.

Agree.

The author can withdraw his work from the nomination process. The nominations would come from those boards. The announcement has been modified. Thank you David for catching that.

Congratulations on the hard work done to get into this.

milner

Excellent. This will be a good tool to invite new eyes to our site - and to let our own stray a bit! If we can get some PC work cross-posted there, it should help accomplish both. Tom

Good tweak, Larry. Sounds like a form of recognition as well. Well done, PCers.

Actually, yes, I think you're right, David. They all go, have a look, and see if we're fit company. How soon till we can ask for a bailout a la Greece? -Tom

Steady on, Tom. There's no need to make a drachma out of everything.

I see that in Jan.-Feb.-March, Kwame Dawes is supposed to read the IBPC poems. This guy's a literature all by himself, well worth reading IMHO if you haven't already. Here's one,

Making Ends Meet

She sells box juice every day
down by the terminus in Spanish
Town, to make ends meet, get
a little something for school
lunch and bus fare for her
big daughter whose body
is fine like hers, skinny
like breeze could blow her;
tal hair, high bottom, nice
shape. Sometimes it come
in like they are sisters
when they step their way
through the muddy pothole
and marl lanes of Portmore’s
blighted streets, and same way,
the men are always asking
for a double mint slam
with two schoolers; and she
knows how to smile, kiss
her teeth and drag her big
daughter along. The girl
now wearing same short
frock and halter top
her mother wears, and mother
know it’s a matter of time
before she start show belly,
though she warn her daily,
but girl is girl, and this Jamaica
is a rough place with man
who will lay wait you,
sweet talk you, offer you
bus fare and food money
each day, and sometimes
he might buy you a nice
shoes; just a matter of time;
and what her mother
who hustling a two cents
selling box juice and icy mint
down by the terminus
in her fade out denim skirt
and broken down clog shoes
with the fabric mangy
to nothing where her tough
heel must rub every time
she step, can offer to this girl
who start to smell herself,
start to want things?
Fifty dollars for a bag a ice,
the rest is the heat and dust
of the city to make people
thirsty, make them buy.
Ever since she test positive,
nothing won’t go right
for her, it come in like
a curse to blight her day—
big woman like this
depend on her mother
for clothes money
for some dollars to buy
pads and panty, what a life.
Man is like death to her;
man just take and take,
and all them leave is trouble,
man is like the grave to her,
she see them coming and run,
man is like a curse on her,
with sweet mouth and lies.
All she have is her box juice
her fifty-dollar ice,
some icy mint and a smile,
just to make ends meet
day by blessed day.

Whoa!

Excellent! Sounds like a very good news. Congratulations!