Letter From the Editor:

    Welcome to Saint Paul's College Online Poetry Newsletter. This newsletter contains poetry submitted from students at Saint Paul's College as well as a few poems written by myself; it is updated on a monthly basis. I encourage every student to take an interest in poetry and in independent thinking. Poetry requires a great deal of work and time, but it should also be a pleasure to write it. College students are our future, and they should be encouraged to write and express themselves.  A passion for poetry can lead to a career as a poet, and words can transform lives and hearts.

Sincerely,

Dr. Raphael Comprone, Associate Professor of Comparative Literature and Editor of the Saint Paul's College Online Poetry Newsletter

A Melodic Note for Your Soul

One element plays the key role

That’s the brain….

Ability to do whatever

Life comes at you with a plan

So get it together….See the road

See that goal.

To strive, to succeed

Parents must believe in me

For them to be proud of me.

--Joshua Downing

Ghetto Child

When da streets is calling

When da guns are shooting

What ‘cha gonna do?

When da lights are out

And da water don’t work

What ‘cha gonna do?

Now, I can’t tell you

I can’t help you out

Just face it

Ya livin’ in da life of a ghetto child

When ya son is dead

And ya daughter got pregnant

You got fired today

What’cha gonna do?

When da bills ain’t paid

And ya car got towed away

I can’t tell you

I can’t help you out

Just face it

YA LIVIN DA LIFE OF A GHETTO CHILD!

--Shonda

Language of Love

If I were a bird and you were my man

The way I would say I love you

Is with a song

I’ll sing it softly with all my heart

Then say I love you with no extra part.

If I were a tree with leaves of gold,

And you were my man with silver buds,

Then you asked me if I love you,

I’ll shake my branches

And let my leaves fall,

And all my gold leaves

Would explain it all.

If I were human with hands and feet,

I’ll run in your arms

While I weep,

Take you by the head and say it slow.

I love you, man,

And I pray you love me also.

--Nikki Wilder

To the One I Love

Our love is like the dew

On the petals of a springtime flower.

--Dr. Comprone

Just For You

It’s warm, it’s cold, it’s shy, it’s bold,

It’s wrong, it’s right, a morning delight.

It’s meek and strong,

A beautiful song.

It rains, it pours, a kiss at the store.

It’s joy, it’s pain, it’s strangely insane,

It’s me and you, and meant for two.

Unforgettably you, it’s love that’s true.

--Dwayne Artis

Basketball Player Blues

I’m a basketball player

And I have the blues.

I know that you can tell that I am

By the way I tie my shoes.

No, I’m not gay

But you assume so

Because I don’t come when

You call my way.

Even though I can make a basket and shoot some free throws,

I still have to deal with brothers with

Short fades and small fros.

I have the basketball blues

Because I can’t get it together

After I tie my basketball shoes.

I have the basketball blues

Because I can’t find a guy

Who can just look at me

Without having a wandering eye.

Don’t get me wrong,

There are some out there,

But to me,

They’re all shy, and they end up not being my type of guy.

So, now I’m figuring out how to end

My basketball blues.

I suspect that one day

I’ll have to get off my high horse

And play by someone else’s rules.

--Southern Coffee

Not for Me

Why do I go on? Why do I keep trying? Why do I continue searching for this elusive thing, this thing called love? I often find myself bitten by the love bug and immediately I fall for the most beautiful thing to walk my way. And I always fall so hard so fast, but there is never anything to break my fall. No love, no happiness. Then I would always get up and try again. Well, no more. I refuse to keep trying so hard, only to end up a failure. I’m tired of always landing on my face and never in the arms of another. Am I destined to never find my true lover? Well, I don’t care any more. I’m tired of pouring my heart out to so many to never get any love in return because it just hurts too much. I realize that you have to work hard for love, and when you find it, it’s like a gift from above, but after so many failures, I’ve realized one more thing… maybe this whole love thing is just not for me.

--Carlton Crumpton