AWARD WINNING- Little River

This poem won the 2011 Park River as a Myth or Symbol Writing Contest and will be illustrated and displayed in an exhibit on campus during the month of April.

By Kaitlyn Schroyer

He created the little river.

washed the pebbled dirt from the ground and hollowed

 the winding path. Forced the oaks and

 maples to part like Moses and

the Red Sea.

molded the circular mouth and graced its tongue with the gift of rushing rapids.

“Why do they do this? Why do they block off my beautiful work of art?”

he hurled boulders of hail at them.

stabbed them with shooting stars of blinding storms.

buried them in white blizzards.

and yet the dam stands.

they battled with his artwork.

they pierced its delicate waves with rocks

 and dug into its banks with dark washed wooden picnic tables and rigid docks.

breathes of ice froze the waves.

freezing the leaves that had fallen from the oaks and the maples.

chilling the tiny delicate feathered ducks to the splintering bones that had stayed over into December.

the slippery bridge overlooked his creation, its eyes watching over the little river as

a single iceberg drifted down the broken streams,

destroying, ruining all the icecaps in its path.

tearing down the old dam and allowing the ducks to settle on the rocks,

restoring and completing the landscape.

He smiled down at the little river,

at the work of the iceberg,

as the little river returned

to its natural state.

Emotions are Only Words

The bird puts its feelings in song.
The dolphin relishes in its echo.
The cats purr with contentment.
But how can humans put emotions into words?

Words are only words,
only symbols woven together in
long crossing lines,
scribbled on a piece of paper.

If words are only symbols,
then are emotions only words?
How can you describe
a gentle smile or a tear rolling down the cheek?

Or what about a burst of aggression
thrown into the hole in the wall?
Or the embracing hug that
tags along warmth and love?

Or how about the flash of disappointment
when the child fails the test?
Or the look of shame and depression when
the loved one cheats with spite?

If emotions are only words,
how can you describe emotions?

God's Hands

Kneeling, yearning for peace
through delicate prayer.
tumbling through the darkness,
into the pool of fogging clouds.
giving soul and problems
up to him so far above.

Letting him take to flight,
accepting the fate that he brings.
allowing comfort to sink into the pores of softened skin.
chest unburdened of troubles and fears and doubts
as they seep into the pitch black as
body drops into the sea of light.

Weather

Watch as gently grazing clouds swish over the coming breeze.
Breathe in the deep scent of lavender petals.
Appreciate the beginning of a soft mist dew over the neck.
Understand how the sun could warm the earth, just a floating star so high in the sky.

Sadness as gray clouds loom over the rising sun.
Fear as the hail begins to pelt down onto the rushing hills.
Run as rain digs its nails into the skin.
Hope that the giant ball of fire can banish the storm.

Smile as the clouds begin to disperse as the warmth holds strong.
Laugh when the rain and hail trickle to a stream, no more than an ounce of fog.
Love running over the grassy fields, capturing the wind in the hair.
Shine in the eyes as the storm returns to its lair.

Flood Gates

Why do I let the drum beat,
shatter into my brain,
let the flood gates open,
and emotion rush through like the running rapids after a storm.

Water swallowing up the tiny earth whole,
like a snake destroys a mouse and devours its ears.
The corn crawls into its husk,
terrified of the living.

The heart thumps with passion,
confused by fright.
Flood gates close and the river soothingly disappears,
fading fast into the missing orange horizon.

He come down, swiftly, practiced,
to hammer out the fear,
and lift the weak,
and restore the right.

He pushes the flood gates,
locking them tightly,
sealing them from another break,
and saving the innocent.

Rejoice. Rejoice.
Hearts have been saved,
terror morphed into light,
and darkness whipped from the sky.

Will I Fly?

Will I fly,
even as you wipe away the tears?
Will I feel
my heart beat again without your hand near?
Will I wonder
why the stars are so high above?
Will I find
what I've been searching for, all this time?

When your beat thumps in tune with mine,
will I fly?
When all the angels up in heaven sing their gentle tune,
will I cry?
When the earthquake shakes the crumbling ground,
will I die?
When my blood pulses through my veins,
will I jive?

How is it,
that little you has so much control over me?
How is it,
that my heart does not surge in excite without you by my side?
How is it,
that I still love you?
Why is it,
that you are no longer mine?

Maybe by Steven Mertz

If you could only see
how much you mean to me,
maybe things would be different,
maybe I’d be a better person.
But for now I’m not me,
I’m not the way I used to be.
If you could see inside me,
then maybe you’d understand
my heart is full of scars
from betrayals uncountable
from pain unbearable.
You might have been the one
to heal my pain,
to erase my scars.
But you’re not here,
when I need you the most.
So now I’m full of longing,
full of hatred for things that never were,
for things that will never be.
I say fuck it all now,
just end my life,
because I feel all alone
sinking deeper into my obsessions,
they drag me down,
spiraling into a darkness unknown.
I just wish you were near,
to pull me out of this ocean
that's slowly drowning me.
I beg you to save me,
save me from myself
because I can't do it myself.