Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Love and the Game

In Group 1, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 9:57 pm

By Lindsey Bennett

In love I am, in love we are, but with what, but how
Fifteen people, players, teammates, one ball, one love
Bad hands, bad tackle, bad play, bad call, bad sir, big shove
Look to the left, and look to the right, what to do now

Love, the game, the ball, may defeat me, but it will not defeat us
Athletes surround the ball in a circle, five minutes of hydration
I know one thing, we know one thing, there is not contemplation
I will not lose, we will not lose, winning is a must

Love touches my hand, throw to the right
Good hands, good play, good tackle, good ruck
We have it this time, love is on our side
This is our moment, love is bringing us light
I can no longer breathe, one, two, three, fuck
Sweat in my eyes, love on the ground, If I said I hated love I would’ve lied

Lindsey Bennet is a person who enjoys stiff arming people in the game of rugby and enjoys watching quidditch in her free time.


Through My Eyes

In Group 1, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 9:56 pm

By Kaylynne Hahn

Her eyes are like a star in the night sky

Her hair is like that of a doll

So thick, long, and dry

She likes to walk the river for a night stroll

I look like her twin

One exception may be her body type

I am heavier set, she is very thin

We look at each other, and there are tears to wipe

Years fly by, we become very distant

No longer speak to one another or of each other’s name

So sad to think I was once like her assistant

How we put each other to shame

Where are we now

How can we spend our days without each other’s love?

Kaylynne Hahn loves to go to Red Lobster and their almighty biscuits, thank you baby Jesus. Kaylynne’s mother is hotter than yours.

Pizza Penguin

In Group 2, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 7:40 pm

By Pryce Tracy

Badtux the pizza Penguin won’t give me any pizza.

Why won’t the pizza penguin give me any pizza?


So the pizza penguin put his store in a more popular place.

The cheese and sausage pizza penguin is in the lighthouse?

The pizza penguin now has a different color.

The original pizza penguin, available in a variety of gifts and t-shirts.

Talk to the pizza penguin.

Get the hot sauce and chocolate.

Secret of the fur.

Go to the coffee shop; talk to the bartender, look at the drawing.

And talk to the pizza penguin!

Get the pizza and give it to him.

Once you give him the pizza he will give you the newspaper.

Pizza penguin will show you the monster he drew himself.

Club penguin cheats and tips.

Pryce Tracy just loves him some poetry.

In the Swim

In Group 2, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 7:26 pm

By John Weaver

A girl who has left her pearls on

Taken on a morning with perfect light

Whilst you may have the luxury

Surrounded on three sides

Don’t let the lab coat and glasses fool you

It’s the dead of winter

As a barometer for the entire nation

the best use of fear

Still has the power to shock

Due to unforeseen douchey circumstances

She can observe the action

Both in the presence and absence

You seed yourself in the front

Time out of mind, people have escaped

It’s not always easy being

John Weaver is in his freshman year at IUSB.  His major is computer science.

Summer 05

In Group 5, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 6:09 pm

By Dee Landes

Out in the cold of night, my cove awaits.
The crystal sheet we drive –upon the night.
Cruising through – you break, the cause a great debate.
With every crank you grind – I wish you’d ignite.
Stranded with a busted hose, now we’re sitting bait.
The checklist of issues became too trite
Too much synchronization to mandate.
Much frustration, sometimes too much to bite.
This does not overshadow your glory.
Garlic filled air, steak on grill, drinks in hand
Hitting the right wave is mandatory,
Being pulled by a rope so I can stand.
Now that summer is only a story,
Repairs fixed, only the water to command.

Dee could never get past the Fourth letter of the alphabet. Chinese buffets are not the names for online journals, but good try.


In Group 5, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 6:05 pm

By Misty Rush




But               in her


I         hear



Misty Rush says the phone was not just on the floor!  Two more semesters left to go.

Sonnet 1

In Group 5, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 6:03 pm

By Justine Werley

Belittled beneath your bastard sword.
A quick aside before I ahead go,
he could have done this without it being ordered so.
And now from myself is all this forth-ward poured.

His voice is harsh with madness spoke.
His eyes and cheek a ruddy reddish puce,
his only goal to find me in his bed, my morals loose.
My heart is oft found heavy beneath love’s yoke.

I am a woman full of naïve hope.
He rarely sees a pleasant disposition’s mood;
his comments much less eloquent than lewd.
Found, is my heart, hanging from a knotted rope.

But should my heart be offered the hand of some other,
I would by his most gentle kiss be staid by fondness for my lover.

Justine Werley is soon to be a sixth year senior, as she just keeps taking general education English classes for projects like this and twitter fodder.

You Don’t Understand Me Mom

In Graphic/Hybrid, Group 4, Poetry on December 6, 2010 at 5:03 pm

By Eric Bikowski

Eric is a college student and he hates tomatoes.


In Group 5, Poetry on December 5, 2010 at 7:11 pm

By Staci Junkin

I hear the sound of pounding hooves

my favorite memory from childhood,

the first love of my life

he had four legs and a heart of gold.

I feel the burning of my eyes

running with the wind we did try,

he was small in size but great in speed

my dear friend brought me many victories.

I smell the stale dust and sweat

from beneath the saddle where I faithfully sat,

it was there that I worked through heartache and pain

he was the keeper of my childhood dreams.

I buried my friend a few years ago,

along with the girl that needed him so.


Staci is hoping to graduate before her kids do. Her son is a freshman.


In Group 1, Poetry on December 2, 2010 at 9:50 am

By Nathan Milligan

Black and white suits trekking through the snow,

through the wind and the frigid southern air,

with coats so smooth they seem to be a glow.

Dawdling movement saves them without risking a scare.

Slow on land but graceful in the water,

staying in herds to protect their young ones,

enjoying these times with their sons and daughters,

but sometimes they need to just turn and run.

Agility in the sea isn’t always a godsend,

like a black missile cutting through the current,

when the hunter arrives they’re unable to defend,

the penguins are frantic, expecting this they weren’t.

The birds soon learn their vital mistake,

when the beast is near, get out for god’s sake.

Nathan Milligan is a resident of Mishawaka, IN, attending Indiana University South Bend. He enjoys a nice bowl of New England clam chowder.