2005 Poetry Contest
Fourth Annual (2005) GCC Student Poetry Contest Winners
|Award||Poet||Title of Winning Poem|
|Grand Prize||Keith Andrew||Rincon Ristras|
|First Prize||Carla Southwell Wood||mouth|
|Second Prize||Dawn Brinson||Algebra|
|Third Prize||Peggy Walsh||Death please cease your taunting|
|Fourth Prize||Jeremy W. Skrzypek||.3452|
|Fifth Prize||Gracja M. Nowak||My Son Learns To Swim|
|Sixth Prize||Ashley Versaggi||City Lights|
Grand Prize - Keith Andrew, English Major
For Jose B. Serna
grandfather, and lovely man
the chiles hang
on vines sunlit
kissed with green.
they'll turn blood red when detached from connection.
Our people are from this earth:
the deep, dark New Mexico soil,
the land I irrigate with my pen.
I hear my grandfather call out,
words of love: vamanos hijo
an echo in Organ Mountain shadow
for Rio Grande rain.
First Prize - Carla Southwell Wood, Health Major
froze in silent scream
dull from horror unseen
arched back cannot resist;
the final choice that had been missed.
how many others lie there still?
Some say to them it’s easy
Some say to them it’s hard
I say it makes me queasy
I do not know
How far does math have to go?
Find the square root of three?
Wow, you got me
The ratio of this and that
Find the circumference of a hat?
This math is leaving an impression
Just look at my radical expression
Third Prize - Peggy Walsh, Math and Science Major
cease your taunting
ask of me
some unexpected day
have set myself
a cozy existence
with soft pillows
a stock of favorite tea
plentiful in my cupboard
to the morning
in the pleasure
of a new day
and you will be there
to make it all
this contract I hold with you
decaying leaves about my door
remnants of an unfortunate bird
to remind me of my obligation
our joint conclusion from a distance
Fourth Prize - Jeremy W. Skrzypek, General Studies Major
My horoscope was flawless,
except the day i died.
It never told me to tie my shoes
or where the rake would hide.
Test the waters, dear
Boiling the brook, a boy soup
Boy turns into frog
Splish, splash, strong breast stroke
An umbilical cord for
A life preserver
Kicking in protest
Struggling in shallow pool
My son goes under
Sixth Prize - Ashley Versaggi, General Studies Major
Dance in front of my eyes
Going so fast, they blur with my speed.
Wheels turn, I look out the window,
Feel the hum of the motor beneath me.
Neon and florescent. Melting into one another
With the raindrops on the window,
Streaming and coalescing. Fog plays
On the glass, from the warmth of my breath.
Are pinpoints against the darkness
Colors, colors, colors, bright, I close my eyes
And see the outline of the buildings
Behind my eyelids. Picture perfect.
Remind me of where I came from,
From a far away place whose lights were not false
Whose lights were the stars in the sky. I cannot see the stars.
These lights are my stars. Nostalgia overtakes me.
Are the essence of change. My life
Swept and uprooted, I find myself in a cold
And busy realm of abstract steel scaffolding.
And the rain turns to snow.
Shine with frost. I am alone. I smell
The asphalt and the grime, the gasoline.
Traffic. Noises. Life. Foreign. All of these
Things foreign to me.
As I try to see my way through
My tears. I am like litter tossed with the wind,
So very alone, so very alone and confused. Scared.
Become my only friends.
In a world where I do not know myself, or where I’m going,
Or what I’m doing. I take comfort in their falseness.
In the warmth that is not really there.
Instill in me a feeling, of which I will never
Forget. These lights are all I have. Together we will survive.
We will not be burnt out. I will always remember these