The Kentucky State Poetry Society’s Grand Prix Poetry Contest is open to any US poet, 18 or over, writing in English. This year’s Grand Prix was judged by the venerable Silas House.
Silas House is the current Poet Laureate of Kentucky. He is the nationally bestselling author of seven novels, a book of creative nonfiction, and three plays. His latest novel, Lark Ascending, was awarded the 2023 Southern Book Prize in Fiction. His poetry, music journalism, and commentary have appeared widely in national publications. House was an executive producer and one of the subjects of the award-winning documentary film Hillbilly. He wrote the storyline and helped produce the Tyler Childers video “In Your Love,” nominated for a Grammy in 2023. House was chosen for the Duggins Prize, the largest award for an LGBT writer in the nation. He serves as the NEH Chair of Appalachian Studies at Berea College, on the fiction faculty at the Naslund-Mann School of Creative Writing at Spalding University in Louisville, and as a series editor for Fireside Industries at the University Press of Kentucky.
1st Place: Jay McCoy “First Light”
First Light
The dead come to say good morning at dawn
cloaked in regal plumage, ranging vermillion
to crimson, with sooted onyx eyes. Perched
atop the inverted bottle feeder, he calls
for his mate in a staccato string of sweet
whistles to draw her – pale brown, tinged
ruby at the edges – he boasts of mealworms,
sunflowers, and luscious blackberries eyed
on his flight at first light from ridgetop
to valley, and roving between – a bounty
to feed hungry mouths. Their morning forage
not only will satisfy the restless hatchlings
back at the nest, but also settle my soul, calm
my wondering with their visit today – a harbinger
of news & good fortune. All is well in the world.
A native of Eastern Kentucky, Jay McCoy is a mixed media artist working primarily in poetry, flash, and collage. He is a founder of the Teen Howl Poetry Series and At the Table reading series, both in Lexington, KY. Jay is an adjunct English professor, an archivist for the Big Sandy Heritage Center Museum, and the administrative coordinator with the Kentucky Book Festival. He co-hosts the Kentucky Writers Roundtable on RadioLex, 93.9 FM.
2nd Place: Michaela Miller – “Don’t stick to the rivers that you’re used to”
Don’t stick to the rivers that you’re used to
Mamaw was five
when she almost plunged
over Cumberland Falls
her skint knees dangled
over the sharp edge
that she passed down
she wondered why
the water didn’t stay brown
as she toed it, sliding
deeper into the crest
the river sucked her ankle,
pulled nape deep, she drank
river milk and tadpoles
fish-bowl fungus green
the water whispered
an ear-full, so she
would remember
her death
a ripped second
and her thick black hair
was yanked, was drug
back upright,
back to the brink.
Michaela Miller is a graduate of Western Kentucky University where she studied English and Photojournalism. She also attended the University of the Cumberlands where she received her Master of Arts in Teaching Secondary Education. Michaela is a native of Barbourville, Kentucky and she has taught high school English for the past six years. Her poetry has been published in Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel, Zephyrus, and Still: The Journal.
3rd Place: Nick Smith – “Ode to the Pocketknife”
Ode to the Pocketknife
Foldable shibboleth
you fit my pocket like the smooth pebble of a secret
word of power.
You cleave in plural,
off-center navel, steel aleph.
Balanced in silence
in darkness you wait with three tongues.
Quiet mouth inside a mouth
you wrestle me for power.
You speak of disappearing.
Nick Smith is a multimedia artist, farmer, and agitator trying to rouse the sleeping giant of communism in central Appalachia. Previous work can be found in Now & Then, and Still: The Journal. Nick is a previous editor and graphic designer for Wind Magazine.
Honorable Mention: David Higdon – “Prayer Twenty Twenty-Two”
Prayer: Twenty Twenty-Two
This year has nearly ended
me and I’m glad to see it done.
Spent mornings in a gnawed-up
Adirondack choking an American
Spirit down before I walk
into the briars of our discordance.
Every misstep ripens fresh cuts.
Every surrender I smother in pride.
I drew my energy from you, the sun,
because of my negative polarity.
Should these legs give out, forgive
and carry me from my wickedness.
Lick these wounds clean again.
David Higdon is a writer from Central Kentucky. His work has been featured or is forthcoming in Appalachian Review, Still: The Journal, Salvation South, and others. His poetry has recently been published in Once a City Said: A Louisville Poets Anthology by Sarabande Books. He lives with his family in Louisville, KY.
Pegasus 
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