Georgia

An award-winning poet and novelist, Judson Mitcham was named poet laureate of Georgia in 2012 by Governor Nathan Deal. His writings, which examine basic human themes within the specific landscape of Georgia, are both poignant and powerful. Although much of Mitcham's educational background is centered in psychology, Mitcham has taught workshops in poetry and fiction at Mercer University, and has also served as adjunct professor of creative writing at the University of Georgia and at Emory University, where he has directed the Summer Writers' Institute.

upcoming events

date
Mar 06 2018
Poetry Matters Project Presents

The Poetry Matters Project continues its collaboration with Goodwill's Hire Grounds Cafe in providing an opportunity for poets young and old to share their creative voices. The event is emceed by local spoken word poet and vocalist Vanessa Harris a.k.a. Elevated Deepness. Poets are encouraged to sign-up prior to arriving by contacting Program Coordinator Lucinda Clark at [email protected]. This event is free and open to the public and takes place on the first Tuesday of every month.

6:30pm to 7:45pm
3179 Washington Road
30907 Augusta, Georgia

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Poetry in Georgia
Judson Mitcham
Georgia poet laureate

Judson Mitcham

Judson Mitcham is the author of A Little Salvation: Poems Old and New (University of Georgia Press, 2007), Sabbath Creek (University of Georgia Press...

poems

poem

 (A Funeral Sermon)

Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.

Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great,
poem

        at The Funeral for 13,000; Andersonville
         Historic Site, September 19, 2015

Every prayer once prayed here is still in the air,
but there is also that old wine of astonishment, caught
in the throat. So who are we to have gathered here,
even in praise, even humbled

poem
The shrimping boats are late today;
The dusk has caught them cold.
Swift darkness gathers up the sun,
And all the beckoning gold
That guides them safely into port
Is lost beneath the tide.
Now the lean moon swings overhead,
And Venus, salty-eyed.

They will be late an hour or more,
The fishermen, blaming dark's