Poet of the Year, Cecelia Shine
Last updated: Tuesday, April 23, 2024 at 2:34 PM
Hailing from Neshaminy High School, senior Cecelia Shine rose to the top of more than 100 entries to be named the 2024 Bucks County High School Poet of the Year, announced officials at Bucks County Community College. The 37th annual contest is part of the Bucks County Poet Laureate Program administered by the College.
With the first-place finish, Shine wins $300 and will be honored at the annual Reading + Celebration on Saturday, May 4, 1-3 p.m., in room 142 of the historic Tyler Hall mansion on the College’s Newtown Campus. The event will feature the contest winners, finalists and judges.
Shine’s three poem submissions were entitled “one heart too many,” “The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine” and “it might be just a dream.”
This year’s current Bucks County Poet Laureate Tara Tamburello and last year’s Bucks County Poet Laureat Tom Mallouk served as judges and reviewed a strong field of entries from all over the county.
In addition to the winner, the judges also named Jack DeBoyace, sophomore from Central Bucks High School East, as first runner-up. Second runner-up was Kade Booker, a senior from Neshaminy High School. The third runner-up was Olivia Cao, a Central Bucks High School South senior. The three runners-up will also read from their works during the celebration.
The entire competition, including the awards and refreshments, is sponsored by a generous donor, Gary Kephart, originally of Levittown and currently of Fort Collins, Colorado. Thanks to Kephart’s generosity, and new this year, each runner-up will receive $100.
The annual Bucks County High School Poet of the Year contest is another way that Bucks County Community College contributes to the cultural heritage of the region.
For more information contact Dr. Ethel Rackin, a Professor of Language and Literature at Bucks and the director of the Wordsmiths Reading Series and Poet Laureate Program at ethel.rackin@bucks.edu.
Shine’s winning poems:
one heart too many
one day the doctors told my mother i had two heartbeats. they said this
with a downturned wince and a crinkle between their brows,
like a sheet of paper which can not be unwrinkled, can not
be made perfect again. when i was born,
it was with double the blood flow, double the oxygen, double the fear. when i was born,
my two hearts beat a rhythm that echoed through my skull and gave me something
to march to, a hopeful anthem to keep me moving, to keep my bones from crumbling
and cracking under the weight of my organs, the overproduced instruments humming too loudly,
beating too quickly, working too well. when i was born,
it was with extra love built in; extra love for gifting neighbors, gifting mailmen,
gifting worms that wash up when the rain pours down. when i was born,
it was with too many feelings, too many obstacles, too many faults.
doctors said i was a miracle; my mother said that thats just life.
i dont know how my two hearts are functioning, how their pulse
is strong enough, suitable enough, for my long limbs, but they are.
they are calling to each other and answering back, creating a song that
wakes me up in the morning and puts me back to sleep
when i need it to. i have two hearts, and theyre surviving and theyre thriving
and theyre dying one second
at a time, but theyre mine,
theyre mine.
my god, arent they mine?
The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine
All of a sudden I am an ant in a city of marble and stained glass,
cemented in porcelain skin, thin like bible paper
in an old friend’s cabinet. Technicolor light showers in
from crystal windows, swaddles me in beacons of river
and sky, paints over me with patterns of rainbow shine.
I am becoming unbreakable, like my bones are rooted through tile,
like my existence is sanctioned between these tall walls.
My weight is somehow pardoned
because every statue and pillar above, every arch
and emblem is grand like my heart, is grand like the sea
and bluebirds chirping in boiling heat. Candlelight darts along
the wrinkles of a praying woman on her knees. This place of worship
was once on fire and then rebuilt, remade, rebeautified, and I realize
there is a cathedral hiding inside all of us, a religion resting
right under the skin, and I realize that I am no stranger here.
No one ever could be.
it might be just a dream
now and then when my hurt
clouds over and fizzles at the sides,
i see another version of me
flickering between my outline,
proclaiming herself just to
w i t h e r away again.
and for one meaningless moment,
we become the same person, and
each of my steps leaves a footprint
of purpose behind, and my tears
feed flowers by the front door,
and my hands don't leave scratches
where lovebites should be.
and then she is gone, and i’m
missing her, and every footstep
is almost as heavy as the last,
and i'm trapped within this vision
of other me on the opposite end
of a black hole, and i'm hoping
she is as happy as i know her to be.
maybe one day i'll understand her
beyond fleeting meetings, beyond
superficial thoughts. maybe
i'll know her well enough to engrave
the shape of her smile to the back
of my eyelids, and to see it reflected
on my own forsaken face