Spring
2009 Poetry Contest
1st
Place
“My
Name is Adam” by Luis Rodriguez
Watch the
sunlight crack my skin, where do I begin
When you’ve
been sitting here for days it’s kind of hard for them to take you away.
And all the
creepy little creatures and critters that don’t like the light,
They hide
inside my cracks and it’s just no use to fight.
These ever
reddest dry eyes never seem to lose their sight
Well they
point at the things that I like.
Thick
drooling tongue of dry obsession,
No where near
starvation.
Soothe the
teething, feed by vein to feel younger.
Nails ripped
back in a frenzy from artificial hunger,
There it is
again, another awkward sensation.
Load,
Shoot,
Release,
Another
mental location.
Velvet
crushes in my hand, in the grip of a cloud,
Lifeless
objects scream, their deepest secrets aloud
A million
stars pour their milk white shine all over my skin
I jump for
joy and beg to do it all again.
This high
runs dry, A river dying to be alive,
As thin as
the rim of crescent
moon’s eye.
The nerves
inside me they shiver with fright,
The strings
of an orchestra wound so tight.
The stutter
from your lips, the frequency of sound,
Strange
rays that take days for me to notice that they’re around.
Oh, how I
really need your words to help me get up off the ground.
But it’s
exactly that which I can not understand
My feet to
weak to step, my mind to grand to stand
Stay still,
any movement creates the friction to lose the chill
Soft orange
day, technicolor fuzzy, the
sun melts down.
All thanks to
number covered vials with liquids of caramel-brown
The slanted
purple poppies make sounds
Oh, how it
turns my frown.
2nd
Place Winner:
“Remnants
of Days Long Past” by Mary J. Villalobos
Who
are left to remind us of days long past?
Men in checkered pants and beige cabby
hats.
Perhaps
they can tell us a thing or two,
About
the good ole days they once knew.
And
though I am young I much prefer the days of yore;
Out
dated customs and old folklore.
I
long for the simplicity of the days long past.
Where
do they surface you ask?
Listen
for a moment and I’ll tell you where;
In
tintype photos and jewelry made from hair.
Tea
sets and china invoke old timey splendor,
With
linens and lace handed down by the elders.
Gingerbread
homes still sit curiously quaint.
With
dark shabby shingles and yellow chipped paint.
Yes
I long for the past-
For
pot belly stoves,
For recipes and traditions, that we no
longer know.
Now
and then I’ll hear a giggle or two,
From
those who desire all that is new.
As
for me, I prefer the remnants that get better with time.
Tall
wooden cabinets- antiques of any kind.
Yes
there are still remnants of days long past.
How
I long for them-I hope they will last.
3rd
Place Winner:
“Puppet
Master” by Chante Garcia
A puppet
master sewing his threads,
Into
me
I am no
longer who I used to be,
Locking me up
to restrain my soul
That was his
way to go
I screamed in
anguish as his unhealthy vanquish,
Ripped
the fabric of my morals.
Cuts along my
arms and feet
Is here the
thread will be sewn
I danced
around as he sways my arms and legs
Up
and down
No longer
human
But a puppet
Each time he
spun me around too fast
The threads
would cut deeper as I danced
I
sway out
He whispers
how I astound him
His favorite
puppet who would not listen to him
Once I danced
and played free
But that is
how it used to be
The master
drops the threads
A
second or less
Maybe as a
test
His illusions
fade
I escaped to
my freedom that day
The scars
remain but
I
am free.
Honorable
Mention Winner:
“Final
Good Bye” by Samantha Welch
The time has
come for you and I
To say our
final good-byes
People lay
dying in the streets with
Muttered
defeat of hopes long lost and forgotten
Let us meet
in ominous corners to
Plan a
getaway for the stars
Walk down florescent
corridors of
Unknown cheap
hotels
To let your
eyes reflect a heart wrenched
Melody that
haunts your soul
City lights
dance in winter clothes
Made from the
harvest’s leaves
So time will
come for our hands to
Rest upon
loved one’s graves; for
Tears to soak
up burnt remains
Blood cries
out of self-inflicted
Wounds to
bring you back to
That over
whelming question
Of ‘why’ that
taunts your mind
Random Pictures
