Category: Poetry

My Hero

EditorPhrog

by P. J. German


 

‘At that point Peter got up the nerve to ask,

“Master, how many times do I forgive a brother

or sister

who hurts me? Seven?”

Jesus replied

“Seven! Hardly.

Try seventy times seven.”’

 

Matthew 18.21-22

(The Message)

 

I’m supposed to tell you I forgive you

but I don’t know if I should or can

you see

I never knew it would be like this

or for this long

all the built up anger

you think I did this to myself

but you’re the man who threw me across the room

you’re the man who downed the bottle

then cast demons into me like Jesus did the swine

I might walk close to the edge,

but I won’t be jumping off the cliff any time soon

 

PJ German – former editor in chief for two semesters and current student advisor of Elektraphrog, president of Swamp Scribes, student blogger for the SCF website, and teacher aid in the English lab – does much more writing than he has time for. He is graduating in 2010 with his A.A., and will attend USF in the fall to continue his education in English.

SCF Whodunnit?

EditorPhrog

by P.J. German


 

When the cops found out, all hell broke loose.

Who molested the alligator?

Dr. Hafner was not at all pleased.

It was his pet from St. Petersburg.

The gator screamed, ‘Somebody touched me!’

 

They first accused Dr. Ford with all

of his dark, crazy, Poe fantasies.

He was quickly ruled out of the crime;

He was busy with Elektraphrog.

Ford said, ‘This would make a great story.’

 

Could it have been Advisor Snyder?

No. He was in a meeting. He is

always in a meeting, a meeting…

He said, ‘Let’s give it a Baycare card.

They might have a gator outreach plan.’

 

Perhaps, was it Professor Waters?

But, nay, he was pinning up Einstein

on his wall – the wall of math’ticians.

John said, ‘We should grill up the gator,

if it is traumatized that badly.’

 

Zaph Manigat? Yes, it has to be!

How else could he get on the website?

He has to be having an affair.

He – the Zaph – said, ‘Hi, my name is Zaph!

Mmmbluh, rrrvuh luh gut shuh luhguss.

 

After lengthy investigations,

suspects were cleared of activity.

It was later discovered Gator

was molested by a manatee.

 


PJ German – former editor in chief for two semesters and current student advisor of Elektraphrog, president of Swamp Scribes, student blogger for the SCF website, and teacher aid in the English lab – does much more writing than he has time for. He is graduating in 2010 with his A.A., and will attend USF in the fall to continue his education in English.

Who Am I? God Only Knows!

EditorPhrog

 by Woody McCree

 

 

I’m Confucian,

I’m a Buddhist,

I’m a Mystic injudicious.

 

I’m a Hindu,

I’m a Christian,

I’m a Daoist Judaistic.

 

Every moment I keep changing,

Every world-view rearranging.

Don’t go thinking I am faithless;

There is method to my madness.

 

All beliefs are fluxuating,

Rapid hyper-ventilating,

Kalaidoscopic mind-rotating.

 

All for one and one for all-

Allah, Krishna, Yahweh, Kali.

The tilt-a-whirl just keeps on spinning;

Where it stops nobody knows.

But take a bit of consolation-

Here all ends are new beginnings.

Woody McCree is a professor of religion and philosophy at the State College of Florida

 

 

A Grave-Digger in Spring (For My Father)

EditorPhrog

 

 

 

 

 

 

by Woody McCree

 

The grate of a shovel in sandy soil,

The soft thud

Of earth tossed from heap to hole:

Return to your mother,

Return to the earth.

 

The decaying leaves settle into the ground,

Forced loose from branches

By the last full freeze

And the sprigs pushing outward

To replace them.

 

In this slow and gentle rustle,

You nestle,

Pressed down

Beneath the weight of dirt heaped over you

Like an ancient Celtic mound.

 

The clover bloom

As you make your home

In the deep damp,

Companion of the glossy brown.

 

But know,

A sacred oak shall grow here,

The moonlit axis

Of a great stone circle:

 

You shall be a tree again one day.

Woody McCree is a professor of religion and philosophy at the State College of Florida.

Velvet Arms

EditorPhrog
by Felix Rizk

On those cloudless nights,

when the moon is high,

the glow of silver

streaming softly to touch.

To view come

a brighter beauty.

Silhouette gliding graciously,

My heart stalls, stammers, and leaps.

My chamber of gloom,

filling slowly with radiance;

squinting in retreat,

a gentle touch on my shoulder

soothing like garnet velvet.

A gentle breeze fanning,

as I stared into honest eyes.

The land, greener by far,

as the waves lapped in silence.

In velvet arms I cuddled,

wavering not, confident realm.

Forever, she whispered, forever!

Felix Rizk is a professor at the State College of Florida.  Written in 1996, this poem marks his first publication in creative writing

 

Ode to the Bubble

cframe

 

by Dawn Muentes

Happy little floater of imperfect design.

Shining your way one square at a time.

No one to change you.

No one to please.

Twisting & Turning for everyone to see.

A constant reminder of what happiness brings.

Thank You brave floater for daring to be .

POP

 

Dawn Muentes is a student at the State College of Florida.

Our Love Story

cframe

By Michelle Papini

Remember that time when I left the yellow dresser drawer open

And we found sage-scented cloves and bubbles.

Remember that time when we took the bubbles outside and blew them.

The two bubbles cuddled and danced thru the air as if they were in love.

Then they floated into the sky and popped.

Remember that time when we laid out on the grass

Watched the clouds and smoked cigarettes.

One looked like a seashell and another like a boot.

Remember that time when it got dark and we made a fire

That crackled and burned for hours.

Then I sang you a song as if I was your muse.

We shared a tangerine that made you pucker.

Michelle Papini is in her sophomore year here at the State College of Florida. She will be recieving her AA at the end of the semester and transferring to Florida Gulf Coast University in the fall to recieve her BA in Journalism/Creative Writing.  She was the fiction editor of the fall 2009 issue and hope to continue pursuing magazine production.

A Tragedy

cframe

by Coral LaRosa

A monster named Silence ravages the city

swallowing the noise with every step.

Flames bite skin

locking them in a painful dance.

Age eats the faces of the beautiful while

panic eats the hearts of the bold.

Envy seduced their souls

blackening them into eternity.

Time snapped their necks

proving they were only twigs in disguise.

Coral La Rosa was born on October 4th, 1989 in Miami, FL. She got involved in writing at the age of ten when preparing for the Florida Writes. Since then, she has developed a love for it and considers it the best pastime. She’s written for her high school’s newspaper, yearbook, and literary magazine. She prefers writing poetry over anything else but does enjoy writing short stories as well.  She is currently a sophomore at SCF and is graduating this May. She hopes to pursue a career in Psychology.

Sestina for the Singles Table

EditorPhrog

By Coral La Rosa

I don’t mean to sound so “Sex and the City”

but it’s a harsh, cruel world for those singles

out there. Unless you are married

or engaged, you are the enemy. Relationships

aside, everyone expects you to be defined.

But what if they’re just holding out for love?

Ah, love.

Four volatile letters more dangerous than a plane aimed at New York City.

Harder than Waldo to find.

That’s why the “singles”

roam. In and out of relationships.

Cautious no to end up married.

You know, because no one wants to marry

somebody you only loved

five minutes while you were drunk that night. Or end up in a relationship

with some shitty

guy. It’s better to just stay single

then “divorced” or “separated for some time.”

Bachelors and bachelorettes, YOU are in your prime.

Date who you want, leave when you want and don’t have to bother calling your married

counterpart. Doesn’t that make your insides tingle?

Being in love

With you? It’s such a pity

Nobody values THAT relationship.

Everyone seems to jump ship

When they’re on the “no boyfriend or girlfriend” cruise line.

They’re so focused on reaching “Bright Lights, Date City.”

But if you’re lucky enough to get married

With someone you absolutely love

In the end, it won’t matter how long you were roaming solo.

So don’t get depressed and go on a Pringle

eating binge. Relationships

should be about love, L-O-V-E.

Does that really need a definition?

Don’t let all the herd of all your married

Friends trample you. Beside, who made them the “Fix-you-up Committee”?

I guess what I’m getting at is, it’s ok if you’re defined: single.

Relationships come and go and marriage is ageless.

Don’t pity the single fools for love.

Coral La Rosa was born on October 4th, 1989 in Miami, FL. She got involved in writing at the age of ten when preparing for the Florida Writes. Since then, she has developed a love for it and considers it the best pastime. She’s written for her high school’s newspaper, yearbook, and literary magazine. She prefers writing poetry over anything else but does enjoy writing short stories as well.  She is currently a sophomore at SCF and is graduating this May. She hopes to pursue a career in Psychology.

List of Facebook Statuses

cframe

by Coral LaRosa

Insert Your Name Here…

Is just not that into you.

Free cherry limeades tomorrow at sonic.

Writers block is hell.

P-P-P-Poker face, P-P-Poker face.

Never thought a 600 word paper would come so easy.

Annoyed & hates stalkers.

Procrastinates like no other.

Too legit to quit.

Cleaning out her closet. This might take a few days.

Drinking a strong cup of Cuban coffee.

Lalalala, sleep.

Single and fabulous, exclamation point!

Woohoo, salsa dancing!

So outrageously cold.

Wishes her hair would grow longer, past where it’s stayed for like a year.

Can’t stand pretentious people. News-flash: Nobody cares.

You popped my heart seams.

Finally finished the Poetry essay of death.

Almost witnessed a fight today at Sam’s Club over lamb chops.

So disappointed with the Project Runway finale!

Trying to learn the “Thriller” is hard work.

Is stressed and confused. I need a sign.

Coral La Rosa was born on October 4th, 1989 in Miami, FL. She got involved in writing at the age of ten when preparing for the Florida Writes. Since then, she has developed a love for it and considers it the best pastime. She’s written for her high school’s newspaper, yearbook, and literary magazine. She prefers writing poetry over anything else but does enjoy writing short stories as well.  She is currently a sophomore at SCF and is graduating this May. She hopes to pursue a career in Psychology.