• OPA Pandemic Anthology

    During the pandemic we have all had ample time to write. In response to these unprecedented times, and as a fundraiser, the Oregon Poetry Association will publish a Pandemic 2020 Anthology.

    Submissions are limited to OPA members only. If you are not currently a member, you may join at time of submission. Contributors will receive one free copy, additional copies may be purchased for $15.00 via Submittable.

    The OPA Board comprises the selection committee. 
    Submission deadline is September 1.
    Poems may have been published previously.

    Please limit your first person poet bio to 25 words.
    Please include your name, address, phone number and email address on each page of poetry.

    Each poem should be 1 page or less.

    Submission fees: $3.00 for 1 poem, $8.00 for 5 poems, $16.00 for 10 poems

    The Barbie Diaries by Dale Champlin

    Just a Lark Books (November 17, 2019), 65 pp $14

    ISBN #: 978-1708450267

    Available at: dale@champlindesign.com

    Is it possible to say anything new about Barbie? Since her introduction in 1959, the PVC fashionista has been reviled and revered, loved and loathed. Her literary footprint includes adoring preteen blogs, scathing doctoral theses, and an authorized biography from Random House.

    Still, I’d be willing to bet that Oregon poet Dale Champlin is almost alone in considering Barbie a fit hero for epic poetry. In her 2019 book, The Barbie Diaries, Champlin presents a sequence of 57 poems that portray the inner life of a Barbie doll who is both typical of ...

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  • 2020 Spring Contest Winners: Poet’s Choice: 1st Place Winner

    June 3, 2020

    Baby, It’s Cold Outside

    (a Vivianne sonnet variation)

    Barbara Blanks

    As embryos we each explore the wall

    of womb that holds us. It’s the first place joy

    is felt—mom’s heartbeat like a lullaby.  

    Cocooned in touch, that’s how we interact.

    We’re chastised just as soon as we can crawl

    or walk. Just look! Hands off! That’s not a toy.

    We’re told to view, to listen, smell that, try

    a taste of this—but touch … and hands are smacked.

    And so begins our isolation. All

    those inhibitions finally destroy

    instinctive comfort found in touch, deny

    the core of who we are. Our lives contract.