Editor’s note: The following poems placed first, second, and third in the 15th Annual Santa Cruz County High School Poetry Competition. In addition to cash prizes, these poems are included in the Annual Anthology, along with approximately 50 additional poems of merit, selected by a three judge panel, from among the hundreds of entries submitted by Santa Cruz County high school students.

Great-Grandma’s Death
In a dark room where four generations of
women walked,
we unite again.

Three stand,
young and old and lovely all.
Lines in our faces harden to stone as we watch
and wait.

The last of us breathes hard as the death rattle chimes in her chest,
toes stained like blueberries, drained.
Eyes rheumy but blue, they dance open once more.
The mothers stand strong and straight,
but I hold tight to the bed pole to stop my shakes, tears pooling along my lashes.

Heavy sweet smell of death is in my lungs,
so I run hard to rid my body of shivers,
climb the fig tree and drench in its dewy leaves.

In the room of past and present,
cloying sucrose blends with mountain musk.

Still living, we cry hot wet tears of silence together
to soak and cleanse the ancient carpet.

I hold Great-Grandma’s hand,
her fingers dry as dirt in summer,
smelling of work and years and medicine and blood.

We are family,
the slender curve of her wrist in mine, the long sturdy fingers matched.

My sweat permeates her skin.
My breath fogs her teeth.
My heart beats for her and my tears wet her eyelids.

Death becomes her now
I weep upon the skin of my fig and lick its saltiness;
I taste my own knowing.

I am grown now and my knowledge aches in my belly as I walk away
from the shadows of our mountain.

—Marina Rosenthal, Soquel High School, First Prize

Do What’s Right
It’s not so hard to do the thing that’s right.
At all costs we must be just, kind and proud—
But we must keep the fallacies in sight.

To leave a man to freeze on a cold night,
That’s atrocity; it should not be allowed.
It’s not so hard to do the thing that’s right.

When challenged one must always rise and fight—
Violently if one has any clout.
But we must keep the fallacies in sight.
Oh, yes, I know—“It’s a matter of pride.”
Blood pours, a mob forms from an eager crowd.
It’s not so hard to do the thing that’s right.

Go send your sons to stop a genocide—
Words of praise pour forth from every mouth.
But we must keep the fallacies in sight.

Oh, death is death no matter who has died.
We sew righteousness and justice into shrouds.
It’s not so hard to do the thing that’s right,
But we must keep the fallacies in sight.

—Catlin Ulrich, Harbor High School,   
(co-winner) Third Prize

My Body Belongs to Them
Curled up in a fetal position, my body belongs
to them
They touch me, and they kiss me, and I lie here unprotected
Sensations are seizing me, imploring me not
to resist
Memories are filling my mind; they’re all too real
All too terrifying; I’m shaking
Banging my head against the table to remove the thoughts, I feel hands on my body
My stomach feels sick and my head is pounding
It hurts between my legs and I try to scratch the hands away
I try to scratch my whole body away,
and pretend it never existed
I scratch and hit myself
I open my eyes so I can’t see them
I plug my ears so I can’t hear them
But I can never stop feeling them
Lying in a room by myself, they’re with me
They won’t leave, because I’m helpless

And I cry myself to sleep

—Anonymous, Third Prize

The Fireman
You burst through the door in your dark blue shirt
And I feel my heart beating faster than you.
The sparks that fly are the kind that don’t hurt.
I start to feel hot, you’re looking hot, too.

Man of fire, what will you eat today?
Maybe a salad, with a side of me?
Yes, here at Hank’s, you can have it your way.
I will not fight it, you’re my cup of tea.

Forty-something and still looking regal,
That smile brings my heart back to life.
In only three months I will be legal,
Then we can be husband and wife.

Fireman, me, and the baby makes three—
I hope we’re all I’ve been dreaming we’d be.

—Nemesia Garcia, Harbor High School, Second Prize

Bookmark

E-mail This

Trackback(0)

TrackBack URI for this entry

Comments (0)

Write comment

Name

E-mail

Website

Title

Comment

smaller | bigger

Subscribe via e-mail (Registered users only)

Write the displayed characters

Add Comment