A Bit of Poetry

poetry

The Creative Writing students have been working on poetry this term. Here are a few samples of their work:

JASE

By: Christian Brewer

My dad told me I nearly killed my mom.
Before I’d breathed myself, I tried to take
The breath from her. As I grew, she produced
A hormone, “Beta HCG.” “A bomb,”
They called me then, “putting her life at stake.”
It’s a hard thing, being your own mom’s noose.

They never called me that. They even laugh
About it now: late nights and I.V. drips.
I wonder if it ever crossed their minds,
When the doctor brought in the research staff
And told my parents she was in death’s grip,
To let me die rather than face that grind.

She said nine months of that had helped her learn
One child was good, she laughs, “You almost killed me.
“You think I want to try again?” It showed
The hate inside, the darkest clot which yearned
To run. They said my birth had set them free.
“Jase,” dad said smiling proudly as he strode

Across the natal unit floor. I cried
Like hell, he said, devoid of any clue
Of what I’d done. She cried, “Is he alright?”
It crossed their minds just once to let me die;
Now here I was. Their son, whose birth meant new
Attempts of life, no late nights, but daylight.

HELEN

By: Elizabeth Dowdell

It never should have come to this, this mess
Of war and death. I never thought that I
Would be the one for whom so many die.
Ten years… did no one think this an excess?
And do they truly die for me? I’d guess
That early on they’d claim that I was why
They came, and think so still, each time they cry
A curse upon my face. But I confess:
I don’t regret the choice I made that night –
It was my choice, I will not stoop to blame
Divine duress; I know I freely willed
To leave – And whether that was wrong or right,
You cannot lay upon me all the shame
And guilt of every man this war has killed.

JOY

By: Courtney Crampton

They buried her behind the house today.
Two months—just two—changed their lives forever.
A tiny little thing; blue eyes that sparkled
Like she knew what the doctors had told them,

Like she knew she would die. But she didn’t
Seem to mind at all. She just smiled, happy
To be here, happy to see the blue sky (though she
Didn’t even know what blue was.) She was

Happy to hear her mama sing her to sleep.
She can’t hear her now, can’t hear her mama’s
Cries. She won’t hear any cries at all anymore.
The first day she was home, they just sat there,

Watching every twitch of her little toes.
She was beautiful. “Ours,” he’d say. “Ours,” she’d smile.
When she got the hiccups, mama just laughed.
Then the baby wouldn’t sleep, but kept bawling.

Mama closed her tired eyes, “Please, oh God, please,
Let her stop crying.” But she’d give the world
To hear that baby cry again. When the
Neighbor said, “It’ll be okay.” She thought,

How does she know? How does she know it’ll
Be okay? She felt like shouting. But the
Neighbor had four perfect, grown babies at
Home. She’d never lost one. She didn’t know.

Those tiny hands encircled her pointer
Finger; The same hands that are now beneath
The dirt. “Come to bed, dear,” he’d say. She’d just
Stare at the empty crib without weeping.

They buried her behind the house today.
Two months—just two—changed their lives forever.
The small gray stone stuck out under the tree;
“Joy,” it read. There they laid their joy away.

DAFFODILS FOR NOW

By: Sara Nixon

The yellow caught her eye.
She clutched her basket’s boxy arms and walked into the store.
The flowers come from dairy farms with fields of yellow dafs.

She spots the yellow specks
with cut stalks tied with twine, and stops. The dancing heads invited her
to come.
“I need to save my cash. Just shop.”

Her yellow scarf just matched
his red and yellow shirt that fall.
The boy’s strong hand had found
her brown, long hair. Her world was small. Her world was yellow hues.

But now, the spring had dripped in. And
She only shopped for one now. Alone, her world was big and dark. She strolled around the mounds
of dafs, and then she saw the mark ­ “Two dollars off,” it said.

The yellow found a home
on quilted squares of tablecloth. The yellow caught her eye,
and seemed quite right, she thought to be with her for now.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s