English 300 Anthology — Contributing Poets

This past fall semester, Graduate Student Sarah Sgro taught an exceptional group of undergraduate students in her English 300 class. This class serves as an introduction to creative writing, specifically poetry and fiction, for undergraduate students. Some students of Sgro’s English 300 class have started sharing their work with the world, featured here as this month’s contributing poets.

Congratulations to these students on their work!

Once Upon a Dream
Joy Smiley

In a world of negativi-tea 
Let me be your muse 	

	let me take you off the grid 
		And show you what love can do

Let us follow the intuitional instinct from our souls 

	And wander through our days whilst exploring the earths hidden core 

For maybe it’s the colors you paint me in that bring my heart to life  
Or the peaceful silence that occurs when our eyes talk for hours

A sense of harmony in the morning, when the sun is just about to wake us up 
A strong laugh that hurts my stomach because of the overwhelming joy it brings

And for when there comes a day when our souls have finished their dance 

I only hope there’s something bigger than us that allows them one last chance 

For maybe it’s your smile, and how it gleams with an innocent embrace 
Or your messy hair that never seems to stay in place

No, no, it’s not just that
Although, I wish it could be
You see your appearance is simply something that is temporary

For what I love the most is simply abstract 
	That of a feeling that was ignited once upon a dream 

For maybe it was how you taught me how to fly, 
		As if I had never been

or how the caterpillars that once lived within my stomach
 	now know the thrill of

Then just like that

You disappear. 

My groggy eyes start to focus in on the new day 
I slowly rise and shake my head 
as it leaves the deep dark dimension of dreams

Unapologetic Love
Armeisha Mcdonald

The feeling you secrete is euphoric.
An ambivalent relationship that was cursed before it even started.
A connection stronger than good Wi-Fi.
Your expensive love is priceless.

Your presence cultivates saliva on my lips like morning dew on grass.
My eyes crave your sight.
Mentally, you manipulate.
Physically, you stimulate.
My love, my love for you attracts caution.

Only because I’m embarrassed that my obsession for you will be exposed.

My body is my temple!
You’re no good to me!
You’re no good to me!
Bad calories is what you are!


Well, the moment has arrived and it’s my time to proclaim what’s mines
So that you all can laugh aloud at my pain 

Clears throat

Hi, my name is Meisha 
Hi Meisha 
I’m addicted to Red Velvet Oreos 
And Don’t forget the milk!!

A Gallery, Honestly
Jackson Shahady

A picture is worth a thousand words, 
Unless it’s my ex from high school.
A gesture goes a mile,
Until I manage to break your “ONE RULE”.

Three anniversary dinners spent together,
Three thousand texts from you bitching.
I could write a book, or ten,
Describing all the times I was listening.

Somehow managing to find a home,
Inside your heart, inside of you.
Love is determined by how we mesh,
More how we melting into one from two.

A picture is worth a thousand words,
In my case, it’s true.
With these thousand words,
I’ve painted a gallery of you.

One more glass
Tori Thornberry

Just one more glass of wine to hold me over
Just one more glass to get me over you 

The tingling sensation of red nipping at my tongue
Convincing me that one more sip will erase the taste of you

The encouraging advice of a friend gnawing at my mind
Assuring me that one more date will erase the memory of you 

The coaxing hand of a man fingering at my lips
Persuading me that one more fuck will erase the feeling of you

Just one more glass wine to hold me over 
Just one more glass to get me back to you

The dancing of my fingers on the number pad tempting my thoughts 
Convincing me that one more call will bring back the presence of you

The ringing of my ear against the phone satisfying my senses
Assuring me that one more dial tone will bring back the voice of you

The thrilling surprise in your voice soothing my heart 
Persuading me that one more word will bring back my love of you

The Just one more glass of wine to hold me over
Just one more glass brought me back to you

Sunday Lunch
Christian Thomas

Sunday lunch at Nana’s house is always special.
The food is prepared, family gathers round to eat,
We link hands, and we pray blessings for the one who prepared it.
Fried salmon intoxicates the air, accompanied by an oily cast iron pan beside.
We then pile on the salty green beans, creamy potatoes, and buttery rolls. 

We all sit down, plates filled and some overflowing,
The round table for dining distinguishes no one and everyone equally.
As we eat, church proceeds: we speak in the language of laughter to each other.
After the meal, we make ready for battle. Take up the board games and prepare.
Monopoly, Sorry, Uno? No, this is war. 

While we battle, the world around us fades to nothing.
We create our own new world; the table is our solid foundation.
A perfect dreamscape, seemingly with no beginning and no end.
The table is where all pleasure abides, no fear nor future exist.
A place of peace, love, and community; but for how long?

The future of the table is terrifying. Time will ensure her fate. 
The table, beautifully aged and polished, where will she go?
Is she destined to rot, splinter, and break as Time presses its knife into her back?
The chairs that once held beautiful people will vacate themselves, decrepit.
Will they orphan themselves from the other chairs without the table’s direction?
The church will crumble and the saints will become apostate. 
And to think that Sunday lunch at Nana’s must end?... No.


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