Preview of the summer issue, including our first ever “One Sentence Poetry Contest.
Summer Issue Preview
Tag: Poetry
Autumn 2017
Poem of the Week: This one from poet, Bruce Pemberton, has been selected to appear in Ted Kooser’s “American Life in Poetry” in a few months. Congratulations Bruce.
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We Shall All Be Changed
Like most journals, 3rd Wednesday publishes few landfill poems. They’re hard to come by for one thing. Here’s one from an English poet who demonstrates that rhyme is not dead. Our poem of the week was a contest honorable mention in our Spring issue.
Montana Condolences, Of a Kind
There’s something going on in Bellingham, Washington. We rarely put out an issue of Third Wednesday without a poem from somebody who lives there. Our poem of the week is an example by Tim Pilgrim. It was in our Spring Issue.
Light of Spring
Our poem of the week from Suzy Harris is perfect for the season. Suzi’s poem was an annual poetry contest finalist from the spring issue of Third Wednesday.
End of a Love Story
Third Wednesday’s Poem of the Week from our Sping issue.
Read the Spring 2018 Issue
Third Wednesday Poem of the Week
Our “Poem of the Week” features an experimental poem by Pigpen Madigan. You can read the poem in the conventional way or read two poems, one in parentheses, the other not, separately. We have paired it with a photograph by Rana Williams. Both are from the Winter issue of Third Wednesday.
The Word 2
Our poem of the week comes from Louisiana poet, M. Rush. It’s from the winter issue, just released.
Chamber Musicians Also Wash the Dishes, Check the Mail
Our Poem of the Week is a piece by one of our favorite poets, Jack Ridl, who is from Michigan. It’s a great poem with an even greater title.
Chamber Musicians Also Wash the Dishes, Check the Mail
But now the chamber musicians are
just past halfway in Glazunov’s Elegy,
the part where in rehearsal they stopped.
“It feels as if I’m behind.”
“I don’t think so. I think I’m ahead.”
When I listened all I heard was a whole note held
in the third movement of a symphony
by Tinnitus, all I felt was the wax waning
onto the timpani of my ear drum.
Next comes another elegy, this by Suk,
Suk who was fifteen when he wrote its
sorrow-filled walk through what he did
not yet know. The chamber musicians
know. They carry elegy in their fingers.
They open the world on the other side
of every note and let us breathe
within the haunting space between each
touch of key and pull of bow. They believe
heaven is between the stars, music
in the empty sleeve of the one-armed man.
-Jack Ridl
Douglas, Michigan
Third Wednesday Magazine 