1999 Nerinx Hall High School Poetry Awards

     Once a year, Sol Magazine sponsors poetry contests at Nerinx Hall High School, a woman's college preparatory in St. Louis, Missouri.  Awards are given to the best poets from the Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior classes.

[Visit Nerinx Hall's web site at
 http://www.nerinxhs.org/ ]
     In addition, Sol awards the special Waltz Poetry Award to a member of the Junior class who shows the most potential with her writing.  This year, the award went to Hilary Becker.
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A note from Noeli Lytton, Nerinx Hall English Department:

     "Once again we have student poets to share with you.  Thanks to you these girls have been acknowledged in a way that is meaningful to them and to our community.  This year we had over 300 poems submitted!
     "Thank you on behalf of all these girls and others who are inspired to write.

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Note:  Sol Magazine's editors made comments on each of the poems.  Look for those remarks at the bottom of each poem, under the name of the poet.


FIRST PLACE - JUNIOR
WALTZ POETRY AWARD

The Loss of My Innocence

Fruiting peach tree of love.
Sun-dancing lilies petal away in to vast seas of knowledge.
Forever grazing the buds of May,
The dewdrops seal the fruit of passion.

Hilary Becker


Biography:  Hilary is a swimmer, a cross-country runner, Secretary of the Art Club, Student Council Representative for the Select Women's Choir; she is an honor student and a National Honor Society Member, and she works at the Magic House Children's Museum.

Comments:  This poem gleams with a delicate use of language revealing the poet's consciousness.  Using the peach to express feelings is a beautiful choice, for the words create poetical, lyrical and lilting cadences.  The images illustrate a vision of character, and the rich patterns of sound make this poem ideal for reading aloud.

Kate Greenaway, in her "Language of Flowers," defined hundreds of plants as representations of a specific mood or emotion.  She said of the peach: "Your qualities, like your charms, are unequalled."
--Betty Ann Whitney, Assistant Editor


FIRST PLACE - FRESHMAN

Rapid

All is calm,
but the roaring,
A far off rapid,
Slowly approaching.

Suddenly sucked in,
Down around the rocks in
Wild white water,
Endangers, but strengthens.

Arms reaching out,
Full extension, then
Lean and pull, forcing the raft
To turn my way.

Water forced down my throat,
Muscles working,
Pulling, moving,
Struggling, but overcoming.

Rock on left,
Thud to stop, whipped in circles,
Great push, the paddle
Forward, forward, forward.

Continuing down the quick stream,
Entering the calm,
Pulling through the eddy.
Forward stroke, one, two, three.

Rest and all paddles up,
Whooping them down,
An ear-splitting high five,
Working as a team.

And on we go through the calm,
As the sun burns through my skin,
Getting me ready
For the next one.

Michelle Marincel


Comments:  The poet pulls the reader in, struggling and overcoming along with the narrator.   A great way to take a whitewater rapids ride.  Thank you!
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor


SECOND PLACE - FRESHMAN

Silent Agony
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Hush now child
Funeral marching
Freedom dressed in black
Reaching for a rose only to feel its thorns
And mourning the tears we never dared to cry
The walls were sturdy
The sky was shaking
Silence is deadly to a blind man's ear
Waking to question the answer you gave me
The whisper in the moon cannot hear
Oh healer, sweet savior
Steady the screaming that is holding my hand
Consecrate thy faith, into your theft
And unto my heaven
May salvation rest

Christine Callison

Comments:  Beautiful imageries and contrasts to describe the betrayal of youthful hopes.
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor

THIRD PLACE - FRESHMAN

Vampire Love

As the darkness overcame her, a sudden pain wrenched through her body.
Images of her lover overpowered her mind and filled her with desire.
Slowly the images became more and more violent
and the agony of despair increased painfully.
Not sure of what was happening, she searched achingly for her lover,
finding him nowhere.  An immense taste for blood suddenly filled her mouth.
It was then that she knew.
The man she knew and loved was now a dark child of the night.
The incredible bond of love was so strong between the two of them that she
knew it would not be much longer before he came and she would also be
transformed into an immortal night walker for an eternity.
But she didn't mind, for she knew that her love would stay with her
forever and never abandon her, so strong was the bond they shared.
The bond of vampire love.

Nicole Madden

Comments:  Strong descriptors, such as "wrenched," "overpowered," "achingly," distinguish this writing.  Great diction.
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor


FIRST PLACE - SOPHOMORE
Judy's

where the coffee pot never stops
where voices echo through the wee hours of the night
where the world's problems are solved over pastries
where the familiar faces of Aunt Judy, Jenny, Maggie, Liz and Mom sit
around a lace-draped table

i know i'm right where i belong.

Corner of Holly Hills
my aunt's potpourri extends from
the dining room to the porch steps
aura of family ties swallow your every thought

i know i'm right where i belong.

Wooden door that squeaks leading to
candles that burn throughout the evening
Yellar's paws and Sunny's licks ready to greet you
holiday decor make each occasion extra special

i know i'm right where i belong.

dessert is done
dishes completed
after the men leave
time to ourselves begins...
just when you think your life is back in place, in the opinions of "family"
eyes focus on my frame
and i know to refill the already refilled coffee cups
"you're our youth...and our legs"
Mom chuckles
conversation continues til the last sip
i realize our time is winding down
"don't you hate listenin' to the old aunts"
sympathetic expression of Judy

as we begin our walk to the car
we never forget to comment
on the fire that
"was the best thing that could happen to get back your hardwood floors"
we hug and kiss
knowing that our embrace only means good-bye
till next time

i know i'm right where i belong

Elle Amann


Comments:  Beautiful slice of family life.  Repetitions give this affirmative poem a chant-like feeling.  This poem will be cherished in decades to come, as it recalls to mind "the smallest color of the smallest day" (a line from "For Rhoda" by Delmore Schwartz) long ago.
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor


SECOND PLACE - SOPHOMORE

cherry-red dress

her cherry-red dress sang about the place
on the table sat plum-purple flowers engraving the
notion
shoes underneath, rusty-brown with experience,
with stories of travels
her cloud-shaded hair grew like a vine keeping
secrets within

     the place is her second home
     the notion is: stomp realism like an abuser
     the travels are locusts around the lake
     the secrets are...SECRETS

          multi-faced understandings
          of hidden measurements
          that approach her weeping heart
          craving spirit
          chocolate-covered ideas
          streaming from imagination
          that flow into her pulsing head
          shunning reality

Carolyn Duffy


Comments:  Superb three-tiered presentation, as the author takes us deeper into the woman's psyche.  Externally we see a dress, flowers and shoes; a level deeper we find secrets and an agenda in "stomp realism."  Underlying all are "her weeping heart" and "craving spirit."  Excellent character study in poetic form.
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor


THIRD PLACE - SOPHOMORE

Nothing Lasts Forever

I miss him so much:  the little boy filled with inexperience
the self-conscious boy I played with
way back in the time when people cared and
things didn't matter,
when dreams were always an arm's length away
and stars never died,
when heaven was just beyond the clouds
and God was so real.

I miss the little boy - taller than me even then,
I miss the hugs that meant so much.
Everything was a million feet above us and
it spun all around us.
It spun just for us.

I miss the cooling summer breezes that remind me of him.
I can still smell the sweet scent it left in my tangled hair,
And the chill it brought to my bare shoulders.
I miss the little boy who helped me reach the unseen
And be whatever my heart desired.
I miss that little boy who sat me on his lap
And made me feel happy - just to be me.

Anne-Marie Coughlin


Comments:  A fine variety of descriptive phrases.  The meaning of the repetitive phrase, "I miss" ranges from sorrowful to sensuous to the sublime.
--Craig Tigerman, Assistant Editor


SECOND PLACE - JUNIOR

Mississippi

You say that The River has a strange effect on people
You think it makes us swear a little louder
out of greasy, twisted mouths
You believe that God put you in this Dirty River Town
to Run Away

You're Right - The River does have a strange effect on people
people like you
people who are too good for The Dirt, for The Thick Air, for The River
from which we all have descended
But you can't be happy with what God has given you

You go East, leave your Western Gates
your Rugged Western Face
The River, My River don't want your conformed perfection
You just go right ahead to your Eastern University
Betray this rancid Air that gave you Life
So let's put an end to this Wild River Town Love
because I ain't leavin' and you ain't comin' back.

Kristin Entrikin

Comments:  A wonderful personification of the Mighty Mississippi; the images are startlingly clear and concise.  The use of capitalization is effective, and makes the poem (and river) seem more alive.  Excellent last line.
--Paula White, Assistant Editor


THIRD PLACE - JUNIOR

Jeremy's House

I went over there...
I met his parents for the first time
     (under the worst of circumstances)
I missed his introduction, had to do it myself
I walked down his steps to his room
I did not cry
     He was there, walking with me...
I smelled his clothes
I held his pager
I put his ring on
I saw the McDonald's Chicken poster he stole with me on the wall
I heard the complete story, his absolutely complete story
I met his sister
I sat in his chair
I stroked his bed
I shared him with his aunt and smiled
I just wanted to stay all night
I wanted to sleep in his bed
I wanted to wear his shirts
I wanted to go through every piece of clutter in his room
I wanted to listen to his cd's
I want him to return my pages
I want to talk to him
I want to hug him and grieve for him, with him

Lindsey Lombardo


Comments:  The tender subject-matter is handled very well here.  The use of "I" to begin each line is especially perceptive, since it personalizes the poem far more than if it were in third-person perspective. Touching portrayal of the ultimate pain.
--Paula White, Assistant Editor


FIRST PLACE - SENIOR

Grandma's House

There are 27 apple pies in the freezer,
a dozen bags of tomatoes
and 30 jars of elderberry jelly.
There are roses, hydrangeas and holly hocks
Daises, lilacs and a pussy-willow tree
in the garden converted from a playground.
There are stacks of quilts,
exquisite yet made from scraps,
yellowed with age
with the batting spilling out
in the linen closet.
There is a glow-in-the-dark rosary
with jumbo beads
sitting in a coaster by the recliner.
There are statues
of Jesus and the blessed Virgin
on the mantle next to the photos
of the daughters, grandkids and nieces.
A walking stick is propped up
in the corner,
made of oak and worn smooth from use.
There is a shard of glass
rolled up in rug
and locked in an old drawer
that came apart from a dish,
shattered in anger.
Over the dining room table
stands a sign in a gilded frame reading
Boze blogosalw naz dom"
"God Bless Our House".
There is a reflection in the mirror
of an old woman standing tall
with black hair, strong hands and a heart
worn pure from living.

Sarah Sodko

Comments:  "List Poems" catalogue items, combining them into lyrical roll-calls of memories.  This writer's skillful listing pulls the reader into the nuances of "Grandma's House" and the intimate details make Grandma a real person.
--Paula White, Assistant Editor


SECOND PLACE - SENIOR

                                 The Snake

Crunching
     Crunching
          Slurping the Sticky Cider
               Streaming down my chin...
Eve ate the apple, it was a golden delicious--I know.
Look into my soul and I'll tell you who the snake was.
I know him.
His eyes are agonizing nightmares that haunt my dreams.
The thought of his slimy touch makes me quiver.
Naively I swallowed his false affection whole...
It was really venom that S L O W L Y eats away at my soul.

Ali Lang


Comments:  Fascinating twist on the story of Adam and Eve.   Opening with the SOUND of eating the apple, rather than the ACT of eating the apple, gives the poem a marvelous perspective.  The narrator's connection with Eve (the line "streaming down my chin") forms an irrevocable tie between past and present which intensifies the ever-present qualities of evil.
--Paula White, Assistant Editor


THIRD PLACE - SENIOR

Window

I've never been in a war
but I've seen
the screaming children
dying mothers
dead fathers
and suicidal brothers

I've never been in love
but I've smelled a lover's breath
seen a lustful smile
and have touched a broken heart

I've never been oppressed
but I felt the barbed wire
clenching through my fist,
blood rolling down my hands
each whimper being closer to my death

I've never been betrayed
but I've felt the eyes
rip open my heart
and treacherous thoughts capture my mind.

Pictures.

Capuchino Taylor


Comments:  Life is often a far-reaching ripple, shown here by the idea of one not having been in a war, in love, betrayed or oppressed, but still being able to see the effects of those acts.   The use of every sense enriches the poem.  Excellent cadence and vivid imagery.
--Paula White, Assistant Editor



   "Write from the mind, with the heart, to the spirit."
                  Mary Margaret Carlisle
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