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2010 Northeast Texas Poetry Contest

Ihr Vergeht Uns Nicht   by :
Hannah Collier
 
fields of gold
streams of sapphire
wild autumn sunsets that blaze with fire
opal-tinged clouds
give way
to night’s black-plum silken shroud
with diamonds strewn through the depths of the skies
some of which sneak to earth dressed as fireflies
under the eyes
of the pale, waning moon
 
on the sweet, pine-scented breeze
whisper to me
the quiet, forlorn voices of trees
of a time
of a place
much different
less bustling
 
lost to the advent
of fast-paced void
the advent
so vacant
of absence
 
dawn creeps upon us
showering the world with gentle kisses of dew
bright, perfume-laden flowers bloom anew
the sun crests
yawning, beams stretching
the smoky blue hills
rousing, waking
filling this twilight time with glimpses
of its subdued glory
and on the coattails
of this breathtaking
this indescribable
sliver of a shadow of the past
the rest of the world’s wayward inhabitants
forsake fretful slumber
for mechanical thoughts
and mechanical sounds
they rush to fill
their mechanical cities
with their mechanical minds
and continue to zip
through their mechanical lives
emotionless, blinded
to the beautiful complexities
residing as our neighbors
as our friends
as patient compatriots
with sadness they watch us
muttering amongst themselves
in angst-ridden whispers
beseeching
‘bitte
ihr vergeht uns nicht’



Tying for Second Place: Cody Russell 

The Fields
by Cody Russell

He was born into a dirt-poor family,
Never had anything his entire life.
He had to work all day as a young man
Just to help his mom put food on the table.
He married a beautiful woman at a young age,
And went into the service right after.
They had two wonderful daughters
Of whom they are very proud.
A typical life of a Northeast Texan you might say,
But things would certainly change.

He woke up early in the morning to get the coffee pot going
And prepare for the long day ahead.
He walked outside with the early morning dew on the ground,
With the Mockingbirds chirping and the squirrels playing tag.
He loaded up into that Dodge pickup to go get his grandson
For a long day of baling hay together.
When they got to the field they drove through the cattle guards,
Out through the fences, and into the open spaces.

They took a break that afternoon to unclog the mower
With the suns’ burning rays beating down on them.
He sat down on the ground with the smell of fresh-cut grass around him.
There was an awkward beating of his heart,
And eyes that will never be forgotten.
He lived a hard life full of hard work and sweat,
But he went in the only place he would’ve wanted: the fields.



Tying for Second Place: Aaron Dunn

From the most natural of seats, I could see
the treeline. Then I didn't know, though,
that it had taken so long to be--
so tall, so thick, so green. I understood it
simply as being.

Existence to me was concrete. Here, peering
over hills and into ponds and catching fish with
cane poles and grasshoppers securely hooked,
I should not ask in dreams
where it or I had started.

Crushing leaves like cannon blasts to
ignorant ears, children sang and spun and
fell into neat piles of
two by two by two with each other--
expressions of dawning life.

Happy wanderers in the Texas maze,
blissfully unaware without the threat of
cloudy future, they twist their cheeks
upward into arcs
of brilliant flesh.

Now older but not yet old
they bend their ears toward sounds
more pleasant, catching whispers in the
Northers, hints of tales yet told,
promising the days they dream.

They don't dance as often now,
they fear pain, but know there is still time
and time for love,
yet the wind is moving faster now,
summoning the clouds.

Now the sky is dark but
they're accompanied by experience.
What's been seen is worthy and they've
little left to want.
They breathe heavier though.

With the promise of the partner of the
Texas soil they slowly steal less air,
'till the bones won't move so fluidly
and the muscles' hold is loose.
Tasting minerals now, with nothing but time.

Then I felt that I had become
me, a person,
who could think and change and experience
and dance and laugh and breathe and see and hear
and love.

I'd follow the paths those children hadn't
chosen, as I didn't have much say. But,
that was fine with me. I'd get there,
but for now,
I was young.

In grass high above my head,
sky like the most comfortable sheet,
I first knew my place, my identity,
and I was
real.

So I thank the clouds and gentle wind and
oceans of grass;
they are my rescuer from the storm of
sleep. I am awake for now, but then, 
I'll dream forever.




Third Place Winner: Jessica Rogers

Grandfather’s Farm
Many memories have died
Memories made at the farm I am fondest of
But bubby shaped times i will never forget
We fished for hours at a Cass County pond as black as tea
And I'll never forget the joyful, childish, song I sang
When he gave me palominos for my birthday
We fed 'em apples and carrots and brushed 'em together
Sometimes we just sat together
Talking and joking
We sat on the porch and watched a spring moon rise above a bridal plum tree
Thats the only thing i have from him now
The ponies are gone
The pond is but a shadow
But our Lake Country farm reminds me of him
I have the beauty of this amazing sanctuary
The calming, serene forests
A place of rivulets flowing with melody
Engulfed by thousands of greens and the everchanging blue above
This is the world we shared
Nowhere else feels the same
Nowhere else feels like him.
 



    
 
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This page last updated by A. Yox on 06/19/2013

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