| 2006's Poetry Contest Results |
| 1st Place: Cassidy Rennea Marks - "Cascadence" 2nd Place: Will Wright - "O Feeble Grasp" 5 Honorable Mentions Kurt B. Froberg - "For Marvin" Joseph Matika - "Autumn's Dawn" Dennis Dorian - "I Fear Her" George Kenneth Martin - "Poet In Time" Loretta Coley Lipsey - "Still He Came" |
| . |
| O Feeble Grasp
Will Wright Upon the solo starry bay with somber melancholy sway I clutch a mortal mound of sand and nurse it's death within my hand. They are falling fast between each finger, no last requests, no thoughts which linger, I watch them fall, in this grim cascade, they slip away, they gently fade. Clenching my most urgent fist, I must hold on, I must resist, "I need to save them!" in vain I rasp, holding tighter, O feeble grasp. "Help me! My hold fades I fear" I scream to anyone who'll hear, Silence greets my cry and I, give up, let go and mark them die. For Marvin Kurt B. Froberg I saw the streets run red last night, And it chilled me to the core When the TV showed a smiling face That would smile at me no more. I knew him as the boy next door Who became a boy in blue, And was hailed by most as the pride and toast Of Precinct Twenty Two. I remember how he ruled my yard When as a child he played, And years later when I'd lost my love How he knelt with me and prayed. A man/child built of honor and steel Who now is yesterday's news, I saw the streets run red last night While heaven played the blues. Autumn's Dawn Joseph Matika Forever young we shall never stay life passes like seasons in a relative way for springtime's ebb in the blink of an eye and like a moment Summer passes by As warmth gives way to the Autumn's Dawn each day grows colder as time goes on like leaves that fall from a September tree do so the days, unmercifully Now the Autumn wind begins to blow behind there sneers a Winter snow for like a sleeping beast that lies soon to awake the winter's guise And even though time draws a line I fear not my life's wintertime with season change I draw closer to you closer to heaven and a room with a view And like the doe that fosters her fawn You foster me into my Autumn's Dawn and I swear by these words in a genuine way I'd sacrifice tomorrow to be with You today I Fear Her Dennis Dorian I fear her. A singular rose in a vase. Sits on a table between us. Tiny teacups-she holds delicately. Offering me Korean Green Tea. I'm wondering why I'm here. Out of all the men in her world. Says she doesn't open the door much. This is her place, her home, her space. Until now, she wasn't ready to share. The smoke from the incense curls. Like a kitten's tail-then lingers in the air. Dazed by the intoxicating swirls of piano music, muted colors and her presence... I still fear her. A wealth of books-titles too numerous to read. A Dali print on the western wall... Poems stacked but oddly numbered.. She speaks in hushed syllables, I can't catch my breath. A bohemian, in opposition to most things corporate She swims upstream against the tides Of fanaticism and intolerance. I envision driftwood in placid waters, Her rebellion speaks softly. Her skin-bright like tangerines Bright, like the hope of spring... This day, she shatters my preconceptions Of what a woman could be, What a woman would be If released from the mold of imitation. I fear her. Like a ballet of butterflies floating lazily On a June day-she moves gracefully. A lotus opening in slow motion, She is African violets in full bloom. And I'm wondering why I'm here Out of all the men in her world.. I'm a young colt on gangly legs Unsure of itself... But smartly aware of it's purpose... Aware of the only thing holding me together Is the waiting, the sharp sense of anticipation A small kiss, awkward at first.... Then rising to a extended dance... Comets and star bursts brighten the room... I'm wondrously lost in her world, her life. Mentally adrift in a field of sunflowers.. Alone with her, in moments of bliss. I'm still wondering why I'm here. Out of all the men in her world. Too beautiful to believe..... I still fear her. Poet In Time George Kenneth Martin Black ink scratching white; from the poets pen, Ink pouring from his heart; in tears now and then. Through the pen; words flow from his mind, Painting an image in many eyes; from every line. Expressing his thoughts; on paper in words, Telling his story; as he presses onward. Sometimes through laughter; at times even tears, Spreading his emotions; in his creative years. It takes an imagination; sometimes deep thoughts, To understand the words; the poet has brought. Sometimes through whispers; you feel his pain, Sometimes in the wind and the pouring rain. He'll blend all his words; sharing a laugh, Or blotch black on white; into a paragraph. Expressing from within; tormenting the mind, Creating the page; for the poet in time. Still He Came Loretta Coley Lipsey Each year, as Christmas comes around, excitement fills the air. We think about a stable, and an Infant Boy born there. We think about a Mother, and an earthly Father, too; But do we think of why He came, and what He came to do? We let ourselves get caught up in the ribbons and the frills; And forget about the Baby Boy who came to do God's will. Just think about the moment when He left His Father's side; Then think about your own child and imagine how God cried. Could you are I have kissed our child and sent them on their way; Knowing what their future held, and the pain that they would face? So, if we tell the story of Jesus and His birth; Then we need to tell the whole truth about why He came to Earth. He did not come to be a tale that is told on Christmas day; And then forgotten all year through as we go our worldly way. He, Himself, was God, the Son, and knew how great the price; The pain and suffering He must endure to save all of our lives. Do you think about His loneliness, or the sadness that He felt; When everyone rejected Him, and scoffed Him as He knelt? If you can, for just a moment, put yourself in Jesus place; And understand that He knew ALL the suffering He would face. From the moment it was decided that He would leave His Royal throne, And come to Earth and face the world rejected and alone; He fully understood the task, the heartaches He must bear; Yet, He came so Willingly, all our lives to spare. Could you or I have done as much, been willing to bear the Cross; To pay sins penalty once for All, no matter what the cost? So as we do our shopping, and as we trim our tree; Please take the time to thank God's Son for dying at Calvary. For His story is more than just a Babe, in a manger filled with hay; We need to understand His Love, and what He came to say. He told us of a Love that's real and by His death did show; The World and all its people, the things that we should know. He knew about rejection, loneliness, and pain; He could hear the deafening sound, as the mighty hammer rang. Knowing all of this and more, and knowing who to blame; Comprehending All these things; Still He Came HOME PAGE |