The Lyric College Poetry Contest is open to undergraduates enrolled full time in an American or Canadian college or university

First Prize ~ $500
Second Prize ~ $200
Third Prize ~ $100
Honorable Mention ~ Year’s subscription and bragging rights

SUBMISSIONS GUIDELINES

Poems must be original and unpublished, 39 lines or less, written in English in traditional forms, preferably with regular scansion and rhyme. We welcome up to three poems per student.

Winners are announced and published in the Winter issue of The Lyric.

Entries may be sent by mail to Tanya Cimonetti:

The Lyric College Contest
c/o Tanya Cimonetti
1393 Spear Street
South Burlington, VT 05403
Inquiries and information available at tanyacim2@aol.com

Note: please submit entries as a PDF if sent by email

We will once again be considering collegiate contest entries by email.  Please add a short cover letter stating the traditional form that is entered, along with your name, undergraduate year, college or university, and postal address (in case you win!) to the following email:  tanyacim2@aol.com

We look forward to receiving beautifully structured and inspiring work from America’s colleges and Universities!  Entries must be postmarked or emailed October 1st-December 31st.

2025 WINNERS

We have the great pleasure of announcing the winners of the Collegiate Contest
for 2025, thanks to Tanya Cimonetti, our intrepid, and gracious contest administrator.
The First, Second and Third Prize poems are published in the winter 2026 issue and the honorable mention winners are published here!

Collegiate Contest winners

• First Prize: ($500) Julianna Jarquin, a freshman at Miami Dade College-
  North Campus, Miami, Florida, for her poem “Compunctious”
• Second Prize: ($200) Jessie Tong, sophomore at Johns Hopkins University
  for her contrapuntal poem “Forget Me/Not.”
• Third Prize: ($100) Margo Martin, freshman from Wellesley College,
  Wellesley, MA, for her poem “Shooting Sparrows.”

Honorable Mention

• Omuniq McFadden, Senior at Kansas State University for her poem “Still I Rise in Every Season”
• George Zamalea, who hopes to graduate in 2027 from Strayer University, which is based in Washington D.C., for his poem, “Contention.”
• Isabel Bu, Senior at the University of Miami for her poem, “Take Me Toward the Distant Skies.”

Still I rise in Every Season

At fourteen, life broke open,
in a way no child should know.
A stolen piece of innocence,
a seed of pain that made you grow.

A daughter came unexpected,
a light you never knew you’d need
a tiny heart that softened your yours,
and taught your own to learn to lead.

You carried grief in quiet hands,
as family slipped away too soon,
yet somehow still found strength to stand
beneath a heavy, broken moon.

College halls became your fight,
your chance to build the life you dreamed
a tired heart, but still you rise,
far tougher than you ever seemed.

You’ve loved so hard it left a bruise,
lost people you thought meant to stay,
yet even loss could not undo
the fire you carve into each day.

Your steps are carved from courage,
your breath is proof you overcame
a warrior made from shattered moments
who stitched your soul back firm again.

So here you are, still rising,
still learning all that you deserve.
A story born from pain and hope,
a life rebuilt by your own nerve.

And when the world feels heavy,
just look at how far you’ve come
farom darkness into brilliance
A mother, fighter, second-to-none.

Omuniq McFadden

Take Me Toward the Distant Skies

Inspired by Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise

Twilight settles
Veiling the world in fading light
The warmth of the day slips away
Leaving only a memory

I sit alone beneath the darkening sky
Waiting for a sunrise that will never come
Waiting for a warm embrace I’ll never feel
I look up at a shooting star

Take to toward the distant skies
Where the wind and the clouds dance
Take me to the far away
Where the moon and the stars shine

Lift me up
Like a caged bird breaking free
Take me higher, beyond the horizon
Where I’ll be home, forever.

Isabel Bu

Contention

I drift away from myself – Octavio Paz

Shall I be there when she comes in time,
And meet her gaze, so fragile, pale, and dim?
Shall I hear her voice, a tender chime,
And answer gently, “Mother, it is me?”

And when our eyes attempt what words cannot,
To speak of love, or sorrow, of the years,
Can I be wise, faithful in every thought,
And give her all my heart through smiles and tears?

Shall I arrive when life has worn me thin,
When waves of fate crash fiercely on my soul?
Still must I greet her, and let love begin,
And humbly ask, “Have letters made you whole?”

I cry, “No more of lies! I will not lie!”
Do I have time, sweet soul, to plead and pray,
To ask her not to bless me nor deny,
But let me weep as in my childhood’s day?

Yet shall I stand when she arrives at last,
With strength enough to question life’s cruel art:
Why must love’s measure separate so vast
The son’s deep heart from mother’s tender heart?

Though joy lies dead, though inner thoughts are vain,
Though I arrive too late to ease her pain,
Shall I still climb, beneath the silent sky,
To kiss her lips and bid a last goodbye?

George Zamalea