Cyclone Chronicle's Second Poetry Showcase- Spring 2025!

Check out these amazing submissions from seven talented Centenary students for The Cyclone Chronicle’s second Poetry Contest, Spring 2025!

🥇 1st Place 🥇

Alexis d'Ambly and Jordan Henderson (tied)

Ford Mustang Convertible, 2011

Alexis d'Ambly

I

My grandfather, Pop,

Ladies and Gentleman,

Different from the rest.

Went about life by his own choice,

Rode a motorcycle,

Drove a convertible,

And had some erratic sleep schedule

That had him up at 3 a.m. cooking cheesesteaks.

Some would say he was a bit of a chemist.

Crazy, reckless, fun experiments,

All from a few college classes

And time in the Army,

Just to throw balls of foil into a bonfire and yell, Run!

He practically pledged to be unpredictable. 

II

Pop was a protector.

Tailing a drunk driver,

Kids in the backseat- softball players.

He wanted to help them.

So, down Airport Road and Kings Highway,

In the Mustang,

To some guy’s house,

With the cops on the line,

Hoping to God they’d show up and arrest him. 

Just to make sure those kids were safe.

III

Pop took us on adventures,

Walmart at midnight,

All for a cart full of junk food,

A charcoal grill,

And a fishing license. 

My cousins and I standing around for an hour,

Watching Pop stare at fishing gear,

Finding entertainment by riding around on the electric carts. 

Out in the car,

Us drowning in grocery bags,

The cool air and the vast night sky before us,

“Thunderstruck” on max volume. 

Getting home to my grandmother freaking out,

Pop, wanting to set up the grill and cook us dinner. 

Mum, just wanting us to go to bed. 

Memories that marked my childhood

And the soundtrack of his AC/DC CD engraved in my skull.

Speech

Jordan Henderson

It’s better to say exactly what you mean than nothing at all.

The words that rest in my mind tend to remain there,

Floating aimlessly shackled to my subconscious,  

Begging to escape.

But words have power,

And power is accompanied by danger.

My words can sway people,

For better or for worse.

The emotions that charge my speech can be unstable,

Coveted by uncertainty.

Because I don’t know how I should feel.

I don’t know if I should love you,

or hate you.

But that's normal right?

Power, danger, emotions, love, hate.

That’s what words are.

Tools for persuasion,  

Weapons designed to break someone down.

If these words were to escape the maze of my mind,

Shall you despise me?

For I have lied.

Lied about how I envision your presence.

Your essence,

You.

These words are not concise,

But rather abstract thoughts constantly colliding and becoming intertwined.

They are not simple,

They are not complex,

They are simply unknown.

If I do not understand myself,

Discover myself,

My speech,

Then who will?

Who will risk their lives communicating with a concept that’s ever-changing?

Unfortunately, no one.

And that’s ok.

For speech is not understandable,

But awakening.

So please wake me up,  

Not with your wrath or love,

But with your speech,

Your words.

🥈 2nd Place 🥈

Elizabeth Rivera

A Crown Ring Christened “Elizabeth”

A sweetly sad love poem.

With love, to the Love of my Life: My Jesus.

I am a silver ring studded with bright white diamonds, I am tiny and pretty,

Jesus is the one who understands my story and christened me “Elizabeth,”

But while I am tiny and pretty and my attitude is sweet, I feel very empty,

I believe in true love, because giving up for me was a fate worse than Death.

I know this, because it’s the reality I live with and it fills me with sadness,

At least with my Jesus, I know that I am always sincerely loved and chosen,

I feel cold all the time, but trust me, I am far away from being heartless,

At least with my Jesus, He never abandoned me, even when I was broken.

                                                 ***

So now I only say, “I love you” to my Jesus and I feel safe and at peace,

I buy Him red roses and write Him love letters because I am crazy for Him,

So now I only say, “love of my life” to my Jesus because He is my destiny,

I pray (talk) to Him, I gave up my old beliefs for Him, I am in love with Him.

I am less cold whenever He’s holding me in his strong secure warm hands,

With my Jesus, I am forever loved, pursued (sought), and always chosen,

I am less sad whenever he smiles down at me, as a man, He never ran,

With my Jesus, I am no longer heartbroken, confused, angry, or broken.

                                                ***

I am Jesus’ silver ring with bright white diamonds, I am tiny and pretty,

Jesus is the one who understands my story and calls me “his Elizabeth,”

I am tiny and pretty and my attitude is sweet, and I am no longer empty,

I believe in true love, because my Jesus rose after three days from Death.”

🥉 3rd Place 🥉

Carlee Nigro

We Rise

The way we rise

Is unique

To every white girl

and boy

And every black boy

And girl

We rise from challenges

We rise from the hole

We once dug for ourselves

How does one rise

From something that

Affects us so

Is it the God above

Is it the ones around you

Or could it be you

Your true, amazing self

Honorable Mentions

 A Survivor Champ’s Last Two Days in Fiji

Jodi Lanka

I woke up the penultimate day,

One immunity challenge in my way, 

Tomorrow it’s my name I want Jeff to say.

The challenge was a victory,

The necklace was really bestowed on me. 

I’m to plead my case to the jury. 

Two fellow players battle in fire.

The fire burning the rope is what they desire. 

The winner will be whose fire is higher.

This is it, the final day.

I seriously can hardly wait.

Why is Tribal Council so late?

The final breakfast, eggs and grapes,

pancakes, bacon, and even crepes.

I ate like I haven’t in days.

Now it’s time to make my plea, 

And sit and hope they’ve chosen me.

Jeff goes up to get the urn.

My stomach is starting to churn.

One vote, two votes, three votes, four,

Holy cow, I need just one more!

My tears and jury votes are starting to pour.

The last vote, golly gee, 

Whose name was written on parchment? Me!

I played Survivor and wasn’t scared,

I am now a millionaire!

Hope

Alexis d'Ambly

I spent hours angry 

at a fictional literary character’s romantic choices

in some Danielle Steel novel I picked up at the local library to read on vacation, 

only to learn that there is a book written so well 

and so thought- provoking 

and so infuriating 

that I don’t want to keep reading it.