Spring 2016 Contest Submission
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The document contains submissions to a 2016 paint chip poetry contest. There are 10 poems submitted by different authors on various topics related to colors, nature, love, and experiences. The poems range from 3 to 10 lines and utilize creative wordplay and imagery related to different paint colors.
Spring 2016 Contest Submission
- 1. Spring 2016 Contest Submissions
- 2. Azaleas in every color Quaint cobblestone streets A smile, a nod, a friendly face On every person you meet You’ve always had that old southern charm I desire to be your River Queen Strolling down by the river Holding hands, making plans, devouring a scrumptious Praline Your love tastes as good as a Gingersnap Tybee sunrises the color of Almond Brittle Walking the squares, romantic trolley rides And late nights in the City Market that sizzle Sweet Savannah, you without a doubt Make me happy and green with envy The experiences and memories you’ve given me Are worth more than an Antique Penny Savannah Sweets Author: Valerie Anthony
- 3. That awkward moment you ask for a pink paint chip and they hand you red… You laugh after what you read because all you saw was red So you can’t believe what you just read You see crazy colors like Minstrel Rose What that even means, only a painter knows and then you look and see Red Gerbera I can’t even think of a word that rhymes with gerbera So you’re still looking and you see a color named Moroccan Ruby You just go ahead and skip to the next one, Deco Red and you still can’t believe what you just read because you hate the color red so you just decide to go to bed PINKAuthor: Aliyah “Ali” Davis
- 4. SHE awakes early Sunday morning Boldly and with grace Preparing breakfast for her young With non-other than A kind smile upon her face. SHE hums a sweet soulful hymn The air fills up with soft smelling candles Ever burning on our brick mantle Smelling of natural Highland Thistles. SHE walks with poise around her palace I adore as I try to watch her every move Kirk Franklin gospel tune in the background Her Garden Plum skirt feeling that groove. SHE reminds me of an African Queen Rarer than an Exotic Eggplant Not because of the things that she may posses But for her ways of being aberrant. SHE is more than a friend to me Perhaps even more than my hero Her Plum Royale tinted lips teach me Love the LORD and good shall follow. SHE is my imperfectly strong Mother So beautiful and so unique And her color is purple The gorgeous shad of royalty. “SHE”Author: AngelLeNoir
- 5. Oh the joys of thanksgiving warm smells But little did we know, it would be from hell As we gathered around the table of love No one noticed that the candied yams looked more like kale We said our prayer and blessed the food Ready to eat so we could be in a greater mood But once again we noticed That our dessert of peach shortcake Was not much of a dessert at all After having a disastrous thanksgiving We still had a joyous time Until we realized that Aunt Jan was drunk off Of orange liqueur and moonshine Disastrous Thanksgiving Author: Michelle Clarington
- 6. Summertime tango, summertime fun The warm smell of exotic blossoms Blooming under the joyful orange sun As kiddies scream I’m free from school And run from the doors with Summertime Shenanigans Author: Michelle Clarington
- 7. Has your sad turned to down And your sorrow to depression? Have you worried about your future? Or an imminent recession? Ever felt like you don’t fit in, Not attached, missing glue? A loneliness that bellows Like Adirondack Blue. Ever stare out your window Into the midnight blue sky, Reminiscing on days spent innocently, Watching the Science Guy, Bill Nye? Well bring some friends to Europe. Visit the French Colony. Go to a horse race, Maybe pet a pony. When all is said and done, And you still feel dreary, Climb down from your window And call the NYPD. Modern-Day 20 year old Thoughts Author: Miccael Ford
- 8. On break…… Starting my day, Spring at my step got me moving too fast Now I’m locked out, the day is in doubt….. Sweating…give me a break….IN, Kicking at clovers Gleeful I stroll through Springview Green….. The Fourth Leaf Author: Karla S. Marriott
- 9. As the horns stared to blow in preparation of his arrival Every head started to bow in reverence The king’s son was finally of age and was exceedingly ready to take his place He was now the crowned royal Emerging from the dark abyss behind the red velvet curtains, now drawn He eloquently made his way to the forbidden royal chair His tall stature hovered over his trusty servants He was drenched from head to toe in Persian gold This prince was surely a gilded young man It could be seen as he gently descended onto his throne As he sat his servants then bustled quickly to his feet Waiting, willing and ready for their orders A highly respected priest then entered In his hand was a small red and gold ginger jar As he opened it the sweet smell of Indian spices flooded the room Indicating that the ceremony as near its end He dipped his elderly hand in the jar and withdrew some spices with his fingers The priest then proceeded to anoint the prince on his head, hands and feet When done, the priest slowly retreated, his duties now relinquished The prince then slowly arose from his seated position Standing tall, robust and proud For he as not the new crowned royal. Persian Royalty Author: Simone Rolle
- 10. Once lived a lass in a cottage surrounded by green, When she turned in the bungalow, not another color was seen! Given the name Laurel Garland when nine, all the townspeople deemed this description divine. The vicinity of Ms. Garland was simple to tell, everyone knew her due to a distinct smell. Fond she was, of her many plant friends; so much in fact she hated snipping their dead ends. All around the house were many post and soot, wearing shoes was a must: no one wants a dirty foot! Cypress vines hung inside and out- always in vision without a doubt. It was rumored once a month; one could pay a low wage, To buy some of Ms. Garland’s very bitter sage. Whereas the eucalyptus wreaths were seasonally hoisted, the last to be sold were always pointed. Lady in GreenAuthor: Cheyenne Willard
- 11. My grandmother loved purple. She always personified the color; Aged to perfection like the deep merlot she made from scratch. She often showed me hats the shade of vintner Opened hat boxes of mothballs Would occupy my nostrils contrasting her favorite Fragrance of passion fruit I loved the stories they told. Which is why I kept them after her departure. Not based solely on the stories they told But because they were purple Her favorite color all the way through Befitting, it became my favorite in my lifetime As I aged in her grace too. Mirrored Hats Author: Shaniqua Brown
- 12. Stupefied. Supernova floating in negative space Color coded liquid mercury Dipped into a slate of Orion gray Cloudless Thinking Constant sinking Blackout! Decay. An Artist’s Tale Author: Shaniqua Brown
- 13. Oh! The frustrations of this timeless ink-black! How dare I take such a beaten path? Crisscrossing crucial calligraphy, Begot my destined wrath. Maybe in my next lifetime, I shall strive for a color anew. Perhaps a pretty poised pink or The strength of Teton blue. Yet, I unwillingly obliged to form That sits in my soul so true Near and dear are the letters in Thoughts of an English Major Author: Shaniqua Brown
- 14. The body’s burned over an open fire The accused now considered woodcraft Crackling of their flesh Torn clothing a rustic taupe hung in the overhead stakes While the crowds’ swarms in a joyous manner “Evil has been forever banished in the village! We are free of madness”, County man says. The air is quiet…kindling. Yes the spirits no longer walk the earth But set foot onto the realms of the underground Find urban legends. Buried in Salem Author: Shaniqua Brown
- 15. Periwinkle so divine as I lay back and clear my mind I think of a fonder time when I was yours you were mine Then I fade into a deep dimension voided of time and comprehension In this place with a constant hue of Periwinkle blue…we travel to A place of integrity flooding in prosperity…while the world we live in is a parody But I won’t divulge our disparity. Let us gain clarity…As we travel to our universe I know this may hurt but… We must land in the Indigo trees of our realities…and drink from the sea of Batik to seal our faith. While we still are sound of mind…in the dead of night we will linger in the forest right into…fields of the giant Tanzanite. The only way to win this fight between pain and delight is to glade away with imperfection. Destine for resurrection…first we must fade away in to the night. The Land of Tanzanite Author: Jasmine Averett
- 16. Long days of hands in the dirt Working hard for brand new growth. Tired fingertips through bone; Elbow deep in weeds and bugs. Explosions of flamboyant calm Now rest under lavender sky. Nature refilling the spirit, What a day of simple magic. Time now for serenity, After such physical drive. Sought from the newly minted Field of wild pansy and rose. In this canyon, iris abound, Settling peace over all senses. Relaxing both heart rate and soul With fresh air and whimsical sights. Learning to slow down and wait As this quirky valley taught. Life like the pansy garden, Confident through secret grace. Through the Garden Author: Rebecca McKinney
- 17. We’re chilling under the October Sky. It feels good but I’m kinda’ shy. He likes my nail color, which just got me smilin’, I say, “Thank you, it’s called Coney Island.” He say, “I want to take a trip, maybe Harlem or Brooklyn.” I can see us now, my man. His woman. “You’re coming with me don’t you dare deny.” “Are you crazy? I’d love to see midnight in NY.” Author: Briana Walker
- 18. Snap. A warm glow dies and The room is dusty dark. Liquid specimens peer out From their jars. Creatures freeze mid-pounce. This curious collection, This unusual ark Neatly labeled and sorted. Cases of Marrakech brown And panels of wavy, Worn glass. Fingering the new pocket watch, A gift of brushed trinket gold, He was their Noah. He no longer needs to know the time. Skeleton key left on the desk, A hand on the comforting know, He locks the door behind him.The Gift of Time Author: Meaghan Gerard
- 19. Dainty, like the jewelry I war, small in detail, but I still make big statements, they never fail. Be your own person, I tell ‘em less is more. in due time, the right one will adore. I stand my ground, certain someone will appreciate, to them I’ll be something new, like this fruit I never ate… Apricot, the taste of a fruit that I never got. So many new things to try, lets list a lot. Fuzzy, the soft feel of my fro in the Friday night air. He said to me, “I dig your natural, curly-kinky hair.” He got to know me, and what I’m really about. That’s when he really saw me, inside and out. ‘Soul so stunning, beauty so bare, I’ve searched everywhere and baby, you’re rare. You’re one of a kind, Could we take the time?” This bond’s so strong, our chemistry connects. Let’s build this foundation, a love we’ll never regret. Past tense, he met a New York girl, she was spoiled and chic. …But he’s got Georgia on his mind, now that his presence has met me. He says I’m pretty peach, not like that rotten apple that fell from the tree. Wrong girl, wrong time, wrong hour, she was overly obnoxious and super sour. Like picking a Bergamot citrus, she was so far from sweet bliss. Lesson learned, that girl there, I won’t miss He looked me in my eyes, gave me a long kiss. “Orange you gonna be mine? My new Mrs.? Me and your, our bond’s growing so strong, it can’t be dismissed, I know I’m not wrong.” He said. “I’ve been down that road before, a broken heart cause of wrong detours. Took some time, traveled these roads all alone, To fix my broken pieces, my journey was a construction zone. Finally, I felt whole, our paths crossed, no more cones That reconstruction is over; I know that we belong Me and you just feel right, let’s move this journey along.” Peachy Keen Author: Sharonna Ray
- 20. A love so big, broad as the Amazon, his affection is clear, no camouflage. His love is all over me, like a tree with a boa, I feel so high, like a butterfly wings that soar. Creative possibilities, endless opportunities in addition to this greatness, I have a love that’s tr me. I’m an adventurer to all of life’s endeavors, Cause eventually we all run out of life as I pleas Enjoy the journey, it’s important as the destinat Like Dora, I’m tuning into my inner explorer, The world has so much to offer, how could you not want more? Dressed in J’s and khakis, I dig his style. Inked sleeves, blonde natural Mohawk hair, so versatile. He looks so good altogether, there ain’t no denial. Livingston Avenue, where my creativity resurrected, like growing moss, my mind is finally connected. No lagoon, but there’s a beautiful marsh, endless possibilities, I’m fulfilled, never parched. And this guy right here I totally adore, Our moments together are never a bore. Navigat ion Author: Sharonna Ray
- 21. Things are happening all around me Stuff that condras up in my mind, head, body. The question Why ponders and ecos Man looks on the outside only to find that what is in the heart is all but harmony Hidden behind the CURTAIN CALL. Rage, Anger, Frustration, Disappointment all incompus me but then night comes, The dust settles and I Look up and all the things that once overwhelm me begin to dissipate, fade, darken, cease to exist. Hope is in the air as I stare up at the sky, A BLACK ELEGANCE. I see start galloping across the VIRTUOSO horizon and colors that once were unconceivable begin to appear, Like something unlocked, apparent for the first time. It’s like finding your first love when you thought that love didn’t exist Like seeing peace after the storm. Author: Byron Childs
- 22. Paint Chip Poetry 2016 Student Winner Shaniqua Brown
- 23. Paint Chip Poetry 2016 Student Winner Simone Rolle
- 24. Paint Chip Poetry 2016 Faculty Winner Meaghan Gerard