2014 Poetry Contest
13th Annual (2014) GCC Student Poetry Contest Winners
Left to right: Kathleen MacEwan, Margaret Aubel, Gail Reino, and Laura Neri
Not pictured: Kaitlyn James
The authors were honored at an awards ceremony in the library on Thursday, April 24.
Awards:
Body of Work: Laura Neri for Monsters/My Lady G/The Conception of the Word
First Prize: Margaret Aubel for The Snowflake
Second Prize: Gail Reino for The Spider
Third Prize: Kaitlyn James for Midsummer Night
Most Humorous: Kathleen MacEwan for '69 Camaro
Monsters by Laura Neri
When I was very young
I believed
That monsters were real
Toothy. Salvating. Feral claws.
In shadowy cloak
And fear
Vaporous
Until the cold age of reason
No.
Fear is quite tangible
It is the cacophony of crashing cabinets
And cracked voices
Shrill, strained whispers
The pulse of red and blue refracted through glass
Dancing upon the wall
The rap of knuckles on the door
Fear is knowing that home is something that can be taken
It is the crunch of snow beneath bare feet
To humble and supplicate beneath unfeeling stone
Thoughts poisoned and scattered like the spiders
That could not be swept away
Fear is the soft voice that once sang lullabies
Twisted malignant and hoarse
I have learned that monsters are indeed real
Bearing little resemblance to the fantastical designs of childhood
And often cloaked in ambiguity
I have taken these things
And buried them
Deep into a cold, damp cellar within my heart
Where every dark memory is kept
I have erected walls to keep my monsters in
Fear is the wail of the black cat behind the mortar and stone.
It is not a creature hiding under the bed
It is not a bump in the night
It forever rings a black knell
And paints every moment with a coat of opaque unease
Fear- real fear- is seeing someone you love descend into madness
My Lady G by Laura Neri
I have watched you many seasons now
A tiny sapling
Nearly lost among viridian blades
So young and green in youth
Blossoming with a trembling innocence
Standing tall against the harsh rain
Never shying from a challenge
And then the summer of your youth seized you
Bowed beneath the weight of heat
Where lesser creatures fail
You thrived
Emeralds dripping from your lithe limbs
You were magnificent
Wanton and seductive in September
Garbed in your dress of many colors
You twirled and danced like a gypsy
And cast your gown gloriously upon us
Stripped to your bare bones
Naked arms outstretched to the sky
As if the sun could be pulled from the heavens
And wrap you in its warmth
But the air grows colder yet
And the sun calls less often now
Leaving you vulnerable and unclothed
But you, my queen
Remain regal in your castle of snow and ice
When winter lays its shimmering crown upon you
You are again beautiful
Yet coldly so
Daring any fool to steal your inner flame
The Conception of the Word by Laura Neri
It starts as a whisper
A lilting cipher in my ear
Sliding softly around my throat
A feather light iamb upon my lips
I flash my tongue
Part and shape
Around naught but air
Hungry and bereft of completion
The need consumes me
My hollow syllable becomes swollen
Erecting a long, full meter
Caressing my lobe with sweet seductive promise
It penetrates the unconscious
And fills me in a pulsing cadence
Leaving the banal hymen rent
Spilling its seed
Into the warm womb of my mind
It becomes complete and known
My fingers now heavy and pregnant
Place pen to paper
And rip from my abdomen
My legacy
Laura Neri
The Snowflake by Margaret Aubel
People don't wonder about things beyond their understanding outside their compact ribbon wrapped bow topped existence,
beyond the box top metal plated faux wood marble mantle with the smiling pictures in golden plastic frames,
beyond the soccer practice football party chicken wing extravaganzas,
past their children school projects with macaroni spelling out math theorems long forgotten by parent's eyes,
things they never see or hear or touch or feel -
ah, feel, a lead weighted word that haunts our days and nights and never allows us to forget past pain,
isn't that the true nature of it, the inability to forget -
and you finally, finally have peace for a moment that feels like a day or an hour or a year, and you pray it would last,
but suddenly, without warning, a tiny snowflake of thought falls onto the
mountainous cavities of your brain creating chain reactions of flaming neurons
firing firing firing electrical impulses multiplying that snowflake thought into an avalanche of feeling,
crashing into that moment of peace and shattering it to a thousand pieces and obliterating the shards-
that thought can destroy any hope of happiness you ever had -
it can fill you with black tar hopelessness and irreparable damage that a razor blade gunshot pill bottle flying leap can fix -
dream, without dreaming, see, without seeing,
feel the dull numbness of hopeless days and nights and midnight monsters that reach out of the darkness inside you,
feel the pang of a thousand million billion thorns ripping the heart of humanity into a bloody mess,
feel the bubblegum super glue duck tape struggling in vein to hold the broken pieces of the soul,
struggling in vein to put it back together,
struggling in vein to find the starlight hope that tomorrow may be better,
tomorrow will be better, feel better, look better, taste better, BE better -
why can't you just be better?
It's not real, you're too sensitive, don't take things personally, it's just a joke, a cry for attention, a phase, not real, just smile, it can't be that bad, what's so wrong with your life, why are you crying, why can't you just be happy, why can't YOU fit into MY view of how YOU are supposed to FEEL?
Why can't YOU be like ME?
The matter of truth is we are hopelessly abandoned inside our heads with an inability to understand what other people are going though,
how THEY feel, what THEY want to say, who THEY really are -
humanity is filled with fear, fear, FEAR of what they don't understand or see or hear,
they listen once and never do again, retreating back into their smiling pictures with the plastic gold frames,
back to their compact ribbon wrapped bow topped existence where people like US are not welcome,
the broken and torn who are too ugly hurt bloody shattered sad heavy dark to be around REAL people,
the REAL people who cannot handle being a friend to THAT kind of thing,
afraid that proximity to emotional leapers will tarnish the sterling silver plated bubble of comfort they have created for themselves,
to provide that desperately needed shoulder to cry on,
to help us put down that razor blade,
stop that gunshot,
close that pill bottle,
step down from that ledge,
because not everybody can do it on their own -
if you abandon we broken and torn, then we truly have no starlit hope for a better tomorrow.
For a day, an hour, a minute, a moment, a year, a lifetime, stick with us -
listen, care, love us -
because we just want that snowflake to melt.
Margaret Aubel
The Spider by Gail Reino
Guilt
The predator
Sometimes earned
Stowaway through dysfunction
Insidious, enveloping – The spider that wraps its prey to devour later
Shine the Beacon and Expose It
Shake It Free From Its Web
Grind It Into Nothingness
Walk Away
Gail Reino
Midsummer Night by Kaitlyn James
The warmth and cool of a midsummer night mingles in the air.
A western breeze, so crisp and fresh, is blowing through my hair.
Dusk settles in the valley; sunset glances off the hills.
It bounces off the buttercups and shines through daffodils.
It casts its final embering hues across the sparkling lake
And dances on the ripples that the fish and ducks make.
Cats meow, and owl hoots, the birds all go to bed.
Crickets sing, and toads croak, as I lay down my head.
Through the open window, indistinctly out of view,
I smell the sweet and smoky scent of smoldered barbeque.
The sun dips down below the hills; the full moon rises high.
The stars peek out from evening's shawl like pinholes in the sky.
'69 Camaro by Kathleen MacEwan
I woke up today, not feeling right
I’ve been so neglected
So long has it been since I’ve felt the right touch
I feel unaligned
My timing seems off
And my parts just aren’t moving right
I’ve been ridden too hard for too long
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my man
The one who knows how to use his hands
He can be soft and gentle with his touch
Or rough when I need it
He takes off my bra and looks under my hood
Then he lifts me up and plays with my undercarriage
I love it when his hands stroke me and bang on me
He knows exactly what parts need to be handled, which wires need to be sparked
He rubs me down and polishes me
I’m red hot like Cherry
Then he gets inside of me!
Now that I’ve been oiled down, my parts move so smooth, like velvet
I feel realigned
He shifts through my gears with ease
And makes all my tires spin
He punches my gas and I go from zero to sixty
He opens me up all the way and I feel like I’m going to explode!
Yes, Yes! Faster, Faster!
Ohhhhhh…….
I finally reach my peak and my engine just purrs.
Every girl needs her mechanic
Kathleen MacEwan