Bluegrass Accolade BCTC Literary Journal Issue No 3

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  • Date:16 Oct 2020
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EDITORIAL BOARD,Joe Anthony,Charles Bagley,Melinda Baker. Maureen Cropper,Angie Davis,Rae Ann Gill,James B Goode. Tammy Ramsey,Managing Editor Layout and Design Maureen Cropper. Cover Art Kristen Pace,Cover Art Title Playground,BCTC In Your Words Poetry Contest. In Your Words Poetry Contest Coordinator,Teresa Tope.
In Your Words Poetry Contest Judge,Christina Lovin. Bluegrass Accolade,BCTC Literary Journal Issue No 3. Special Sneak Preview Pantoum Don Boes 6,Three Geese Don Boes 7. Lessons I Learned While Unemployed Don Boes 8,Balloon Don Boes 9. On the Anniversary of the Beginning of the War Don Boes 10. Advice for the Restless Soul Joanie Brown 11,Leasing Ideas James B Goode 12.
Has Elvis Left the Building James B Goode 14,The Poem is a Prisoner I James B Goode 16. Crucifictious Cruxes Amber Jackson 17,Anti Mercurial Matters Amber Jackson 18. Eons of Adventure Amber Jackson 19, Through A Glass Darkly Then Face to Face Roger L Guffey 21. The Original Singles Collection Amanda Kelley 34,Conversion Martha V R Lutz 46. The Hold Up James B Goode 53,FEATURED CONTEST,BCTC In Your Words Poetry Contest.
Contest Coordinator Teresa Tope,Contest Judge Christina Lovin. Winner Faculty Staff Category,Foundations Margaret Wyse 63. Winner Student Category,Escape Brittany Thompson 65. Runners up, Julie Shrooms the Black Doom Bloom Jason Lee Miller 66. Vines are the Veins James A Caudill 67,Honorable Mentions.
I Speak Rosanna Napoleon 68,My Scarlett Letter Brittany Thompson 70. Sleepy Cloud Patricia Holland 72,Olivia Olivia Layton 73. Snow and Barn Josh Mers 74,Flowerman Alexis Meza 75. Untitled Kristen Pace 76,Untitled Kristen Pace 77,Into Pink Teresa Tope 78. Reflections on the Kentucky Teresa Tope 79,Enlightened Brittany Thompson 80.
Drops Kimberly Wilson 81,Reflections Kimberly Wilson 82. Biographical Information Notes from Contributors 83. The Bluegrass Accolade is a project of the Literary Arts Subcommittee of the Bluegrass Community and. Technical College s Arts in Focus Committee Our thanks go out to all who helped make this project. possible including the writers poets and artists who contributed their work and the committee. members who contributed their time and effort to the production of this issue. 2009 2010 Arts in Focus Literary Arts Subcommittee. Chair Maureen Cropper Members Joe Anthony Charles Bagley Melinda Baker Angie Davis Rae Ann. Gill James B Goode and Tammy Ramsey,Special Sneak Preview Pantoum. Two thumbs up from America s top critics,An awesome masterpiece not to be missed. Riveting entertainment for the entire family,A terrific blend of comedy and passion. An awesome masterpiece not to be missed,Provocative glamorous lush and romantic.
A terrific blend of comedy and passion,Daring explosive rollicking and funky. Provocative glamorous lush and romantic,Truly original Irresistable A pure delight. Daring explosive rollicking and funky,One of the decade s most spellbinding films. Truly original Irresistable A pure delight,Riveting entertainment for the entire family. One of the decade s most spellbinding films,Two thumbs up from America s top critics.
Three Geese,On their way to the bogus pond,three geese swing over crowded soccer fields. Try to distinguish one goose from two other fliers. the sound of one violin from a long row of instruments. one pin from the dozens stuck in your mother s pincushion. The breeze still matters to that trio of travelers. and so does the temperature,and the clock of the earth. while between the white lines,many many many games are in progress. contested over acres of subdivided meadows,and then come the snacks. individually wrapped,and devoured in the backseat,Lessons I Learned While Unemployed.
Crowd the coffee table with coffee,Pay a visit to every booth in the bar. According to lots of presidents and pro athletes,hardships are in fact opportunities. Scan the local swimming pool,for bumblebees in distress. and old high school friends,who might also bother the surface. buzzing with something like panic,A simple net at the end of a long handle.
often does the trick,Sometimes I am not bored enough. The phone lines are open,All my best ideas,happen to be your ideas. All I require are your last four digits,Will you stay for dinner. I have microscopic fish to fry,Near the tracks feral cats scatter. Plastic bottles glitter and flash,and yesterday s gripes give way.
to base hits and strikeouts,and ladders against houses and picnics. assembled with warm wine The greening,of the grid all over again The season. is like one of those shiny unreadable,balloons snagged in the delicate branches. of a dogwood What I am afraid of,is the ground and how eagerly. it rushes to make my acquaintance,The fractured ground.
where I run my seven mile loop,slower every year The ground. where malls of rubble,open for extended hours The ground. where the lottery is news Where,my father and mother and brother. are buried Roller coasters and bulldozers,draw blood Rivers flood. and too many people marry,Most accidents happen at home.
wherever that is I prefer winter,The splendid lack of movement. And the promise of spring,On The Anniversary of the Beginning of the War. At least we can journey to the mall,At least we can make the commitment. to think less about thinking less,In the food court the menus. facilitate our meaningful decisions,And when the sun retreats beyond the bypass.
we can t be bothered We celebrate,by consuming and we grieve the same way. and what we can t consume we pretend to consume, In my weaker moments I am partial to devilled eggs. The concourse is not to be feared,Those mannequins although they do not. resemble us are not our enemies,JOANIE BROWN,Advice for the Restless Soul. The whispering pines the scents of summer the sunset on the bay. Pervade my dreams on a winter s eve like the tiger stalks her prey. I long for the sounds of the ocean the kiss of the evening breeze. I return again to my childhood days to live my life with ease. The songs of the ancient poets fall silent on this earth. Each man will toil relentlessly from the moment of his birth. God is a myth a story to the wretched human race, Acquire more in seven days but never slow your pace.
How foolish we appear to Him how insolent how lame. The beauty of creation reduced to just a game, Time s heavy hand will quiet the soul we reflect on yesteryear. We judge we change renew the heart with hopes that we can hear. The laughter of a baby the voice of dear old friends. then pray that God will guide us until the very end. The whispering pines the scents of summer the sunset on the bay. Take time my friend to savor life for we re given just a day. JAMES B GOODE,Leasing Ideas,I m leasing my ideas to you. with conditions,careful attention required,they may fly by. like the white stitches,on the centerline of the highway. You and I have a covenant of quiet enjoyment,all this has been carefully phrased.
dipping toward you with tilted wings,each adjective and adverb. gliding one breath closer to the truth,There is meaning. in the varied patterns and shapes,even behind waterfalls. where colonies of ferns,green and alive,with moisture. dip in perfect dives,toward the river,Meaning in currents reflected on the stone walls.
The light blowing across rough surfaces,There is really no charge. maybe one dollar to keep it legal,just a pause for consideration. no non emergency notice to enter clauses,under all conditions. there is an opt out clause for each of us,but you can only make improvements. with my permission,without regard,and circumstance.
these ideas,may be assigned sublet,ad infinitum,JAMES B GOODE. Has Elvis Left the Building, The passage of time is the enemy of all investigations. after over an hour in the examining room, I can hear the low din of Elvis the gastroenterologist. arguing with his nurse,over the misplacement of a blood order. she denies ever seeing it,the poor sap whose blood it is waits next door.
twiddling his thumbs,and looking at the stains on the wall. where nurses have made bank shots, with the sanitary caps from the digital thermometer. I ve counted all my money,cleaned my billfold of old business cards. tossed bits of notes with long since forgotten messages and names. I lift my head and ear like a deer sensing danger,Elvis voice is fading. moving away into the mysterious place,behind the door leading to his green room.
I yearn for him to come in,like a hunk of burning love. and give me the answers,but now I panic,I think he s retreated to his bus. parked outside the clinic,where his women are,so I place my ear against the cool blonde wood. of the inner sanctum door,all I can hear is the faint rustling of paper. I decide the investigation,into my demise,is about to end abruptly.
I ve had it,now I really don t care what is wrong with me. so I jerk the open the door,and stare into the startled sanctimonious face. of his battle axe nurse,Has Elvis left the building. 2 EDITORIAL BOARD Joe Anthony Charles Bagley Melinda Baker Maureen Cropper Angie Davis Rae Ann Gill James B Goode Tammy Ramsey Managing Editor Layout and Design Maureen Cropper Cover Art Kristen Pace Cover Art Title Playground BCTC In Your Words Poetry Contest In Your Words Poetry Contest Coordinator Teresa Tope

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