Vance-Granville Community College students in Professor Frankie Frink’s ENG 231: American Literature 1 course marked National Poetry Month with a creative and community-centered celebration of National Poem in Your Pocket Day on April 30.
As part of the activity, students composed original poems inspired by the literary works they studied throughout the semester. Drawing on themes, styles, and historical contexts from American literature, the poems reflected both critical engagement and personal interpretation. To bring poetry beyond the classroom, students then walked across South Campus, reading their poems to faculty, staff, and fellow students.
The event transformed everyday campus spaces into sites of literary exchange, as students practiced the oral tradition of poetry and invited spontaneous moments of connection through language. Listeners were able to hear a range of voices and perspectives on the continued relevance of poetry as both an academic and a communal practice.
“Activities like this help students see literature as something living and accessible,” Professor Frink said. “They move from analyzing texts to participating in the tradition themselves.”
The ENG 231 poetry walk underscores the value of experiential learning and reinforces the role of literature in fostering creativity, dialogue, and community engagement across campus. Read some of our students’ original poems below.
Shhh…
By Laila O.
All her life, she’s worked hard
Twice as well—some might add
Yes, breaches in the system hold her in no regard
Shhh, Laila. You’re going too far!
Ignorant at once, no perhaps just innocent
Yet she strove for greatness, even as her pale counterparts
Reap her deserving benefits
All men are created equal
They like to say
Shhh, Laila. You don’t fit in that category anyway.
Her question now is who deserves to be heard?
Certainly not the one sitting beside her
Who has had nothing to truly endure.
The repeated silencing, for she cannot seem to take anymore
These thoughts wander through her head… But, no!
She is hallucinating in a Poe-like lore!
Well with the uncovering she has finally detected
She thinks “What shall I do?”
Continue striving above to make a difference
No adjustments within you will be needed
As once thought before
Only a revolution to ensure her posterity will
Bear no more
America Then vs. America Now
By Matthew P.
The red brick walls sit quietly
Their broken windows look like sharp teeth
Grandfathers used to work for hours there
Hiding their tired spirits inside
Now light shines through every glass
Fingers tap on glowing screens
We’ve traded iron tools for something else
A world full of digital machines
The roads are where horses once trotted
Neon signs in every city
Concrete is covered in every spot
Creating a different setting
Common sense: is it common?
By Hailey W.
Reading the book, do you agree?
– Freedom from Britain
Sounds great can’t you see?
No more being dragged into their wars
– No more taxation,
– No more being governed by a king!
Instead, we rule our own people!
– We have the resources!
We have enough men to start an army,
Enough raw materials to build a city,
– and enough brains to govern ourselves!
Do you believe me? Join me!
– Unified as one,
let’s create a country as strong as an ox,
as free as a wildflower.
The Telltale Heart
By Elijah O.
Insanity? I think not.
An insane man is easily caught
An insane man wouldn’t take care
To be so quiet, as if he wasn’t there
I cared for the old man, I really did
But that eye, that eye, the eye must be rid
Seeing it made my blood run cold
Within my soul, death’s bell tolled
Eventually, I made up my mind
To kill the old man who paid me in kind
Slowly, slowly, I opened his door
Suffocating, suffocating him against the floor
The deed, the deed was already done
And yet, and yet I have not yet won
The cops and detectives have made themselves known
Searching and making themselves at home
A faint noise grew, enveloping my ears
So loud, too loud, bringing me to tears
And then, and then, I shrieked ever so shrill
The floor, the floor! Under the floor, he lies still!
A girl with a cardboard sign
By Joel T.
On the street, a girl with a cardboard sign
stands under the lights that brightly shine
her voice so thin it drifts away,
like chalk in wind that flies away
How many voices fall like stone
dropped in wells where end is unknown
How many voices get locked inside,
like burning letters left to hide?
Who gets the mic, who fades to air?
Whose name is loud, who’s lost somewhere
I’ll lift the quiet, small and bright—
a match struck hard against the night
