Winner of the 2005 Shakespeare At Play Poetry Contest

by Evan Roseman

I dream of Life
Appetite-confounding Life,
over-ordered and turned loathsome
in its own deliciousness
As it's shoveled into doggie bags
And made up to look like a swan
To be later rediscovered and discarded with
Empty tuna cans and still-warm band-aids

Frayed and tattered in the wind as it
Blows from a drying T-shirt
Tugging at white threads and
Kissing the nurturing earth

Joyously ensconced in a warm yellow sunlight
Splashed in morning's dew and yet
Turned from shadow to dance along
Human ledges - to jump, to roll, to play
And show the world that it's okay

Life, the pink in the corners of our eyes
Caressed by salty despair
Life, brass and hard and molded like a man
Stretched from end-to-end of a cross
Life, painted in neon green on cardboard
And held with shivering hands by a
Man, his shouts resounding as the rain
Runs down his angry black ponytail

Life, a lover's hand, soft and smooth
An explorer across trembling skin
Life, lush and green and
Life, fat and beaming in a purple
Bridesmaid's dress
Life, enigmatic and incomprehensible
Life, growing in a womb,
New and untainted, unbeknownst
To one silent, nauseous mother
Life, compacted and called gothic
And shoved into an archway or
A small boy hidden behind his
Horn-rimmed glasses

Life, curled into a blade of grass
Trampled by a chubby foot
Life, a roll of tape, resonating with
Laughter as it unwinds onto a body
Life, stretched out like rubber in the
Lungs of the raven-haired teen
As she downs shot after shot of
Life, minimized by the careless
Philosopher and yet aggrandized by the
Careless drifter
Life, fading into shadow in a falling
Filigree of white but then
Bursting up by a perfectly round
Drop of water

Life, lost on a man in a
Hushed basement, drawing his
Plans of annihilation and
Life, falling fast, too fast
As two pillars of flame collapse
Where, once, safety was felt
Life, weakened and snapping
In a tiny body, covered in
Beautiful brown skin
In a place where
Life with a credit card
Never thought existed
And Life, carried wrongly by
One innocent woman and lost
In a torrent of red

Yet still, Life, recycled from the earth
And dispersed into the soil with
No toil, but instead randomness
And Life, shirtless and perfect
Glinting with sweat and
Wielding a hoe
Working now toward new Life
Life, flying forward into womanhood
In a gallery of portraits, each one
Winking as she finds her way from
White gown to peach skin
Once again

Why, Life, utterly present and complete
Funny and inconsequential yet
Cork and stone and spackle wonderful
With its innocent wiles and
Gap toothed smiles intact
Tripping the brown-haired boy
but pulling him up and
Dressing his knee with a

I dream of Life
And golden angels haunt my dreams
But eyes opened, I learn
and marvel still,
Teary-eyed at my luck, my joy
My perfect happening
As a tiny speck on this
All-encompassing tapestry
Of grandeur
By no other name than

"Hi, I am Evan Taylor Ragosa Rosenman, and I am 15 and a sophomore at the Pingry School in Martinsville, NJ. I have many extracurricular interests; I am a huge movie geek, and I also take guitar lessons and work at a nursing home on Saturdays. At school, I am very interested in a variety of subjects, including math and history, but my ultimate love is probably English. I have always loved writing, though I think my best creative output is often found in my poetry (I'm also trying my hand at writing a play and I've written a few articles for my school paper). "Dreams," though probably not my best-polished poem, represented a very important period in my life when I began to realize how truly lucky I am and how good it is to be alive. I have my wonderful parents, my older brother Michael, and my nanny Roger to thank for that."