Jim Hodges, Ultimate Joy, 2001, Linda Pace Foundation Collection, Ruby City, San Antonio, Texas, © Jim Hodges, courtesy the artist and Gladstone Gallery, New York and Brussels.



(in no particular order)

Feels like Home
I like the city at Christmas.
It feels like home.
Through stations of light
I return like a bus
stopping between the blocks
where I fell in love.
More than anywhere
my memories stay here.
Janice Bethany

Uncle Dancing on his 80th Birthday
His white bow tie with rows of tiny glass beads sparkle
like rubies and sapphires under the spinning silver ball.
He grins, white dentures holding firm, as he chooses
the hand of one niece and the next, that ultimate joy
at the abundance of family dance partners tonight.
When his teenage granddaughter steps up for her turn,
she weaves curling ribbons through the bow tie knot,
a perpetual dancing, swaying movement with
each nod of his head—continues as he softly snores
during the car ride home. A flash of a smile appears
like the spotlight waltz at his senior prom.
Diane Gonzales Bertrand

Worlds Collide
Our corners meet…
Your color and your light
Mix with mine
Light brights in a darkened night
I fight to keep you
Two squares in a round world
A world I crave
And when our lights touch
Emotions become heightened
Bulbs of blue and red
Become orange passionate fire
Dare I say
You were the spark…
I never knew I needed.
Abraham Moreno


(in no particular order; age 13 and older)

A Dimly Lit Center
The sound of footsteps
People are coming.
Lights flicker on, one by one
Being placed in the center didn’t help much. 
I’ve always been the center of attention
I never wanted to be though.
Why can’t I be off to the side?
Or down at the bottom?
Where no one can see me
Gleaming eyes wander from the center towards me 
Why can’t they just keep their eyes in one place?
I don’t want to be seen. 
Chenxi (Tracy) Liao

The Final Waltz
Blending, gliding, lines smoothing together 
the silhouettes of dancers melding as one

Your hand extending out, grasping 
Connecting with mine
and finding the way onto the floor

A swish, a swirl,
A blend of movement

Blinking, flashing, our lights mix
the distinct colors of blue, yellow, green now fused

The bright beam of your presence 
dimming to a slow blink

Your hand extending out, not grasping 
disconnecting with mine
and into the crowd.
Kate Neiman

We said our goodbyes 

After Robyn O’Neil’s A Man 

It was your eyes I fell for when we met. 
Hazel and paired with a dimpled smile. 
The perfect nose, sharp but regal.

Gentle lips and a desire to constantly kiss them. 
I loved you hard in my chest 
And in my arms where only pain now settles.

We talked for days about the lives we lived. 
The music. We drank with unforgettable friends. 
Rushing to be with each other every day.

A family, a son or daughter, that looks like you. 
I wanted to see the evolution of your face. 
And to live long enough for two more generations. 

It was your calm that made the hardships easier. 
and days of no money though love was plenty. 
We were filthy rich in it. 

Our last words were not of love 
just foul language  
and false accusations 

Like we never loved each other
After years in a living  
room we made a home. 

I saw the back of you. 
Front door closing. 
Your neck tense, red from arguing. 

On the doorstep you face the world  
again, without us. 
The clack of footsteps walking away. 

– Vincent Cooper

SAVE THE DATE! April 27, 2024:

Ekphrastic Celebration Reading by winning poets at Ruby City at 10 a.m.

Judges: Jim LaVilla Havelin, 2024 National Poetry Month coordinator, Eddie Vega, award-winning poet, and Linda Simone, poet, artist, educator, will select up to three poems per artwork for each category. 

Winners will be notified via email by March 21 and must attach their winning poem(s) as a PDF in an email to EkphrasticPoetryContest1@gmail.com with email subject line: (ADULT or YOUTH) Winning Poem PDF – (Your Name). Winning poems will be posted at online sites throughout April, National Poetry Month.