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Poetry Collection

Faculty & Staff Free Verse All Entries

2014

4th Annual Poetry Contest

Central Georgia Technical College

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INDEX TO POEM TITLES AND AUTHORS

Poem Title Author’s Name

2 Teenagers Jolly, Ernest

A Mother's Guilt Quinn, Bonnie

Again Lawson, Wayne

Chemo Appointment Laster, Rena

Do You Think That I Care? Hamilton, Darrell

Do You Think You Can Resist Me? Hamilton, Darrell

Heartlessness Rollins, Kenneth

It’s Not the Heat, it’s the Humidity Stone, Glen

Legacy Dorn, Donna

Legacy2 Laster, Rena

Nine Eleven Hall, Josette

On Deserving Johnson, Jeremiah

Scroll One: The Stimulation of Skull Stone, Glen

Speechless Jolly, Ernest

Summer Fun Author Unknown

The 3 PM Friday Afternoon CGTC Blues Rollins, Kenneth

The Gift of Springtime Jones, Robins

The Progressive Gardener Johnson, Jeremiah

Tribute to Mom Jansen, Barbara

Why Are We Here? Repzynski, Michael

“2 Teenagers”

I stood in my aunt’s living room, Looking through the diamond-shaped window

At the top of the front door. Across the street was a neighbor’s daughter

Lounging leisurely on the porch’s swing. I guessed she was 14 or 15 years old

And “pretty” by community standards. Suddenly, a sporty car came to the street Corner,

With a young male behind the wheel- Looking no older than 17 years.

Focusing on the young girl in the swing, He tooted his horn twice

And smiled as he waved. The young girl did the same.

Behind the living room door I smiled, too.

A Mother’s Guilt tiny newborn- so fragile and delicate. big eyes, fuzzy hair, miniature fingers and toes. warm and safe against my breast. scratch scratch SCRATCH SCRATCH OUCH! sharp daggers on his fingers! this little pinkie went to the market… clip clip this little finger carries a ring… clip clip this middle finger sparks anger… clip clip this big finger points the way… clip clip this giant thumb grips the world… wiggle wiggle clip clip SCREAM! his red blood oozes inciting my silent scream of guilt. quickly now, back to the breast. he soon forgets, but I know the tiny scar on his thumb.

Again

To feel again, To be real again, To care again, To share again, To thrive again, I’m alive again.

Chemo Appointment

Bald heads

Fashionable scarves and hats

All in this one place

Cancer

Identifiable

Right off the bat

Far too many

In such a small space

Chemo

The treatment and cure

All needed

Because

Our food is so impure

Exercise

Diet

Antioxidants, too

Control free radicals

It’s all up to you.

That’s what they say

Doctors and researchers

I mean

But I say

Trust in God and His guidance

That’s what’s best

For this life thing.

"Do You Think That I Care??" Do you think that I care, if he's looking around, his sorry butt looking ever so stupid, such a pathetic, no-class clown. Do you think that I care, when he sees us together, me being there for you, baby, in all types of weather. Do you think that I care, when he rides by at night, he's just jealous when he sees, that I'm treating you right. Do you think that I care, that he's still feeling you, standing outside, looking through the window, as you & I make love anew. Do you think that I care, as you & I gently kiss, me giving you back the passion, that you had long missed. Do you think that I care, he's crying outside, & can't get his way, as you & I are in the church, on our very special wedding day. Now he finally accepts his fate, that his hold on you can no longer linger, after I step up as the true man that I am, and put that wedding ring on your finger.

"DO YOU THINK YOU CAN RESIST ME??" Do you think you can resist me, as I look into your sultry eyes, knowing deep down inside your soul, a sinful passion that can't be disguised. Do you think you can resist me, as I step hungrily towards you, your heart beating ever so rapidly, as you know what we're about to do. Do you think you can resist me, as I stand mightily before you now, your heart now beats even faster, as sweat is running all over your brow. Do you think you can resist me, trying to deny the hot passion that you've been missing, asking yourself, "Oh, what in the hell am I doing?", as we begin some very soulful tonguing & kissing. Do you think you can resist me, as I taste your neck & place a kiss on each shoulder, driving you ever so crazy with lust & desire, your renewed passion continues a constant smolder. Do you think you can resist me, tasting you down below, using my famous "tongue motion", you shouting out my name in many different languages, I'm savoring your hot juices as I create your "sensual explosion". Do you think you can resist me, as you lay there, passion surging through your soul & your heart, but you better be ready soon, my beautiful, lovely tigress, We're only halfway finished, & there is definitely a "second part".

HEARTLESSNESS The nape of the neck bobs, a surfeit of flesh stretched across the starched white collar. Nothing charts the defining hours of this curvature, not even the stamp of a Janus-like tattoo, appropriately spanning both the left and the right. He sits simply on the pew ahead, a sporadic nod to the sermon overheard. The know-how was parsedly clinical, perhaps a Wednesday morning fill-in of Dr. DeBakey's shocking graft, Measured by anethesiological notations, the fitful chicken-scratch of EKGs, laser-dripped incisions, sweetly sanctioned by the calm security of disposable, dissolvable sutures. Fait accompli! How else? Weighted with centuries' luck like the exhumation of Cro-Magnon's skullcap? Gaia's grace? Or the cloying, sated emblem of the Original Graft, the hologram of immortality? The aperture was provided by an innocent, eponymous heart whose mangled collision pronounced this sacrifice, a sacrifice that transcends interstate lines to transmute the dying chambers of a broken, anonymous soul, whose days now hover, umbilical-like, on borrowed, brokered time.

2nd Place Faculty/Staff Free Verse Kenneth Rollins Learning Support

It’s Not the Heat, it’s the Humidity

Where goes that radiant heat so generously imparted by the glorious sun during his tenure? At eventide, darkness places his chill hand on the shoulder of glory and ushers him to his hiding place. Only when mist blankets the wide skies remains warmth. Else, in fury the sun's erstwhile passion rushes to the ether: to that lost and unseen emptiness beyond this terrestrial orb. Tonight, vapor coddles her mother in lofty sheets across the heavens, and with us remain the proxy fires of Sol that lapped this outstretched sphere by day. The restless grasses of the plains and the sodden hills that grovel at the feet of the high peaks writhe in balmy blankets when humid mist enshrines these telluric tracts by night.

Legacy

A word to the wise

In another person’s eyes

What will you leave behind?

What will you pass along?

A generation waits

“Help us!”, they say

Years spent as a statistical thread

Ideas, reprimands, opinions

Ambitious leaders are born,

Not from plans and good intentions,

But from innovation and tenacity

Giving what you have the ability to give

Guiding from the experience that you live

Reaching out and lifting up

Legacy

Legacy

Adulate

Generate

Congratulate

Advocate

Pontificate

Motivate

Educate

Commemorate

Speculate

Mentor

Center

Guiding Light

Show what’s right

Accountability

See,

Be.

Future-oriented

Opportunity presented

Lessons learned

Badges earned.

Simplify

Imply

Laugh

Cry

Pass it on.

Nine Eleven

On a cool, unsuspecting September Morn, She stood: proud, brave, beautiful

In meditation, she was preparing for another day of hope, of freedom, of love

In the blink of an eye,

A cruel coward crept behind her in an attempt to deface her beauty forever

Horrendously Wounded, She tripped, she stumbled, but she did not fall

And she will not fall…

She will overcome this ordeal just as she has So many others in the past

Because she… She is….AMERICA!

On Deserving When thinking the worst has befallen, And the day holds happiness captive, Remember, ye of much want, That Cato's ideal fled from Jefferson As did honor from Brutus; Hamlet had his pangs of despised love-- Water seeped away from Tantalus. Sisyphus, even today, toils under the boulder; The starving fox still yearns for the lightning-fast hare; An old woman searches through a cupboard that’s bare. And think on suffering—that burden of Gandhi and Reverend King— But especially your own; How sorrow must happen, according to Auden, Somehow, someway, in some unclean corner, Or even openly, embodied by empty hands many make haste to evade. The world is burning with passions quelled by oppression; Wherefore should you say “I deserve?”

3rd Place Facukty/Staff Free Verse Jeremiah Johnson Accelerating Opportunity

Scroll One: The Stimulation of Skull The Axons and the Dendrites waxed strong in their pursuits. For many years, their offspring forged mighty new paths in the barren lands of Cranium. From Myelin to the Sheaths of Neuron and across the chasms of Synapse, the sparks illuminated the upper regions and bore witness to their fierce struggle. Late each year, as the days grew short, the lights of Sol yielded to the growing darkness that conjured fatigue like a shroud over the land. This solstice would be different; for a new leader had emerged, an outsider not of natural origin, and Caffeinator was his name. As the rule of Consciousness the Elder slipped away, all the inhabitants of Skull beseeched their beloved leader to yield to this mysterious redeemer. Together they partook of his offerings and grew stimulated. No longer did the lingering darkness of the end of years beleaguer the realms of Consciousness.

“Speechless”

The river knows nothing

But to stay wet,

And flow.

The rose knows nothing

But to stay pretty,

And grow.

My heart knows nothing

But to beat steady,

And glow

In the sunshine,

Of your sweetness.

SUMMER FUN

When I think of summer, I think of the beach.

Even though it is far, it’s not out of my reach.

It’s a beautiful drive and on the way down,

you feel the excitement as you drive through each town.

As you get closer, you feel the breeze.

You’re almost there, when you see the palm trees.

At the first site of ocean you think of a plan,

to lay on the beach and start your tan.

Waste no time when you arrive.

Change into your suit and go out for a dive.

So have fun and relax, while you watch the birds soar.

After all, that’s what you’ve been waiting for.

Time to go home; it goes by so fast.

But remember, the memories will last and last.

The 3 P.M. Friday Afternoon CGTC Blues

I hear the weekend calling. It’s calling me by my name.

If I don’t get to steppin’ I think I’ll go insane.

I phoned up my sweetheart

To tell her, it was on. But my supervisor spied me snakin’

Across the back gate lawn.

On Monday morning sat a-waitin’ A leave form to complete.

I felt like a mighty bull elephant, Sans his head, his tusk, his trunks and his feet.

So if you hear the weekend’s siren

Beckoning you as in Odysseus’ day, Make sure your boss has long departed

Before you steal an early getaway.

THE GIFT OF SPRINGTIME

Springtime has come; it’s finally here.

It’s a wonderful and exciting time of year!

With beautiful sites and delightful smells,

you’ll want to go out and explore new trails.

Colorful blossoms that reach for the sun,

and fields of green grass where you can run.

The sun seems to wake so warm and so bright,

preparing for summer, when it shines until night.

On a beautiful, glorious, warm spring day,

how the children love to go out and play.

Spring is just one of Gods gifts to us,

So give him your love, your faith, and your trust.

The Progressive Gardener

Year One of the Garden: Pour heartfelt joy and love into growing plants from seeds Rejoice once the crops take root in the garden plot But after missing two weeks of hoeing and maintaining The weeds take over and destroy everything. Lesson learned. Year Two of the Garden: Understand the work that will result in planting Mix the soil with sweat and Round-Up for months Enjoy a picturesque garden with knee-high vegetables And the deer invade at night and devour everything. Lesson taken. Year Three of the Garden: Shell out $700 for 10-foot high fencing and posts Buy nursery-grown plants from the hardware store—to hell with seeds. Watch an idyllic garden grow of hip-high tomatoes, peppers, and peas, And the deer learn to jump 15 feet in the air over the fence and devour everything. Year Four of the Garden: Mount motion-sensor semi-automatic gun turret on 360 degree pivot Strategically place infrared cameras to target nearby deer trails Spread peanut butter covered with arsenic around fence perimeter Through gnashing teeth, pessimistically plant a decent garden of vegetables, And the rabbits slip through the fencing and devour everything. Year Five of the Garden: Insert goat. Search for the kids a new puppy since the last one died from “fairy powder” Pay lawyer fees for ongoing federal case involving home-made drone technology And a criminal case involving a gunshot-wounded electric company worker. Buy groceries at Wal-Mart.

1st Place Faculty/Staff Free Verse Jeremiah Johnson Accelerating Opportunity

Tribute to Mom I miss her more than ever, My precious mother We thought we had time— Time to plan, to reminisce, to relish our time together She left this world a year ago; I never got to say goodbye

Why are we here?

I never imagined it would end like this; Ups and downs, twists and turns, feelings of bliss.

I search the sky; tears on my face. My love is gone; without a trace.

Music and memories comfort me,

but the man I once was I shall never be

“Why are we here?” I ask myself. We live, we die, is there something else?

I need to know, Lord; I need a sign.

Tell me this is not the end of the line.

The eternal question that lingers in my mind; until the end comes, I walk amongst the blind.

Another day comes; my thoughts subside.

They will return as sure as the tide.

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