Poet Laureate of the State of Illinois Angela Jackson Announces Leslie Jackson Poetry Contest Winners

Grandmom

Shirley Anne-

After Anne Shirley;

A woman of honest southern roots and blue eyes,

A heart the size of the rural town where she was born,

A voice of power that swayed men’s shoes,

A wife who waited for her soldier to knock on her door,

A head of auburn hair that framed her face in golden light,

A kindred spirit more free than any spring breeze,

A mother to sons shaped with her parables of love,

A gaze that saw beauty in each crack in the sidewalk,

A pair of hands that played God’s word across organ keys,

A grandmother who gladly sang to her grandchildren,

A soul of dignity that flourished in a bucolic world-

Shirley Anne.

Women of Admiration

I have said I am going on a road trip. 

Before they ask where or why, they ask, “With whom?” 

I tell them I am not sure.

When they tell me I can choose from anyone, I know I am completely unsure. 

I would like to bring a woman from the past with me, someone such as Janey Hart, Emily Dickinson, Malala Yousafzai, Dorothy Vaughn, Marie Curie, Sacagawea, Joan of Arc, Jackie Mitchell, or Cleopatra.

It could be so much more than a road trip,

A flight into the sky,

A deep dive into the great abyss of words,

A march through villages to preach on equality,

A tour of NASA and their not-so-smart computers,

An experiment with radiation,

A journey across North America,

A battle of unity,

A game of baseball,

A mission to rule the Nile.

Some of them changed literature 

and showed that women could write as well. 

Some of them changed the field of science by discovering new, life-altering chemicals. 

Some of them changed the aviation and engineering industries. 

Women piloted planes and space shuttles 

and began working at NASA to show the world that they could also become human calculators.

Some of them put all the pieces of a nation back together again,

And some simply stood up and said no.

I wouldn’t be taking this road trip had these women never existed.

I am still being looked at curiously.

Maybe in the future, they will ask where and why before asking, “With whom?”

But for now, I must go out and discover the type of woman who will be next on this list.

Will she play amongst the brightest stars?

Will she learn to love life after she finds out what it truly is?

Will she believe that Despite everything, people are good at heart?

Will she find strength and light in the darkest corners?

Will she be placed among the millions of legends that came before her?

Who knows? Who knows.

I will make sure she knows that no matter how many people are standing before her,

She will always have herself,

And that will always be enough.

So I think I will take this trip alone,

In honor of the strong, devoted women who came before me.

I will make it incredibly memorable,

And there is not a soul in this universe who could stop me.

Patriece Gentry

I met Patriece Gentry three times before she died.

Each November visit

In the warm food pantry fighting harsh wind and snow outside

I donated as much as I could

In hopes it would help buy Thanksgiving meals

Or Christmas presents

For Patriece to then prepare and organize for those who were less fortunate.

But the money and time weren’t why she smiled so bright

Or laughed so loud

Or hugged so tight.

She was a kaleidoscope.

Her personality melded into a beautiful array of color.

Intertwined with a radiant hope

Her colorful presence filled the dull building

With hues of love, compassion, and selflessness.

Last November, I caught her leaving.

She had been gone for longer than usual

But her colors were as bright as ever.

When she chuckled “Just dropping by!”

I tried to smile as dazzlingly as she did 

Unaware of how hard she fought

Unappreciative of the light she brought.

Later, I was told about the cancer.

I do not believe in God

But for the first time 

I prayed

That she would get the happiness in death 

She gave others in life.

I can only hope that someday, for someone

I’ll bring as much color into their life 

As Patriece brought to mine

Even though we only met three times.