Category Archives: Poetry

David Busboom and Shelby Koehne from Eastern Illinois University

NaPoMo 2013

“The the Impotence of Proofreading” by Taylor Mali

Has this ever happened to you?
You work very horde on a paper for English clash
And then get a very glow raid (like a D or even a D=)
and all because you are the word1s liverwurst spoiler.
Proofreading your peppers is a matter of the the utmost impotence.

This is a problem that affects manly, manly students.
I myself was such a bed spiller once upon a term
that my English teacher in my sophomoric year,
Mrs. Myth, said I would never get into a good colleague.
And that1s all I wanted, just to get into a good colleague.
Not just anal community colleague,
because I wouldn1t be happy at anal community colleague.
I needed a place that would offer me intellectual simulation,
I really need to be challenged, challenged dentally.
I know this makes me sound like a stereo,
but I really wanted to go to an ivory legal collegue.
So I needed to improvement
or gone would be my dream of going to Harvard, Jail, or Prison
(in Prison, New Jersey).

So I got myself a spell checker
and figured I was on Sleazy Street.

But there are several missed aches
that a spell chukker can1t can1t catch catch.
For instant, if you accidentally leave a word
your spell exchequer won1t put it in you.
And God for billing purposes only
you should have serial problems with Tori Spelling
your spell Chekhov might replace a word
with one you had absolutely no detention of using.
Because what do you want it to douch?
It only does what you tell it to douche.
You1re the one with your hand on the mouth going clit, clit, clit.
It just goes to show you how embargo
one careless clit of the mouth can be.

Which reminds me of this one time during my Junior Mint.
The teacher read my entire paper on A Sale of Two Titties
out loud to all of my assmates.
I1m not joking, I1m totally cereal.
It was the most humidifying experience of my life,
being laughed at pubically.

So do yourself a flavor and follow these two Pisces of advice:
One: There is no prostitute for careful editing.
And three: When it comes to proofreading,
the red penis your friend.

Katherine Mueller, sophomore, English major at at Eastern Illinois University NaPoMo Reading Series

“Eating Poetry” by Mark Strand

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll, their blond legs burn like brush. The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand. When I get on my knees and lick her hand, she screams.

I am a new man. I snarl at her and bark. I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

Morgan Slack, Freshman, Pre-Med/Biological Sciences major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

“Bonfire” by Ellen Hopkins

Once, people wanted to know
her. Perhaps it was her comely face,
featured almost weekly
on the society page.

Starched gentlemen came
calling, meek as their offerings
of posies, porcelain and perfume.
The one who stole her heart brought
ragtime, gin and cigars. She still
remembers Daddy’s crimson
apoplexy, his farewell
parry: Take my word,
he will burn you.

Oh, but they burned together,
brighter than a bonfire,
his kiss her kindling, her flesh
his fuel. The fire, white
hot, consumed them until only
embers remained. Ash.

Today, her garden offers
posies, gifts her with perfume
and every evening, the quail
come to call. She sits, sipping
gin from porcelain, beneath
a fine sift of ash.

Nathan L Gayheart, Freshman, Chemistry major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

 ”Hope” by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

Erick Shaffern, Junior, English major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series


“Sensation” by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Wallace Fowlie)

In the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths,
And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat:
Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet.
I will let the wind bathe my bare head.

I will not speak, I will have no thoughts:
But infinite love will mount in my soul;
And I will go far, far off, like a gypsy,
Through the countryside–joyous as if with a woman.

Daniel Robin, Freshman, Family and Consumer Sciences major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

“What If” by Shel Silverstein

Last night as I lay thinking here,
Some Whatifs crawled inside my ear.
And pranced and partied all night long.
And sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I’m dumb in school?
Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there’s poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don’t grow tall?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won’t bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don’t grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems swell, and then . . .
The nighttime Whatifs strike again!

Sam Martel, Freshman, Mass Communications – Broadcasting major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

“Brothers” by Thomas Conner

A homie will always be a brother
Brothers even from different mothers

We bring out the best of each other
I have three, we are brothers

You can always make me laugh when
I need it and know we are brothers

I got your back just like you got mine
Living together, we are brothers

I can always get an opinion
From you truthfully we are brothers

From pass to future and beyond college
Rooming together, we are brothers

Your Nappy Boy and I Pretty Boy
Four in the morning we are brothers

Helping me get past her Tom thanks you
Homies, forever we are brothers

Samantha Petrarca, Freshman, Communication Disorders and Sciences major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

“A Dream Within A Dream” by Edgar Allan Poe

 Take this kiss upon the brow!
 And, in parting from you now,
 Thus much let me avow-
 You are not wrong, who deem
 That my days have been a dream;
 Yet if hope has flown away
 In a night, or in a day,
 In a vision, or in none,
 Is it therefore the less gone?
 All that we see or seem
 Is but a dream within a dream.

 I stand amid the roar
 Of a surf-tormented shore,
 And I hold within my hand
 Grains of the golden sand-
 How few! yet how they creep
 Through my fingers to the deep,
 While I weep- while I weep!
 O God! can I not grasp
 Them with a tighter clasp?
 O God! can I not save
 One from the pitiless wave?
 Is all that we see or seem
 But a dream within a dream?

Brandon Warner, Freshman, Sociology major at Eastern Illinois University
NaPoMo Reading Series

“Snowball” by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.