1st Place
“Glass Trees” by Erica J
Jefferson Middle School Grade 8
I remember
This one time,
I was smithing
A poem of poems
Like metal in my mind.
It was two days after
A bitter winter storm.
I was hammering out word
After word after word
On my way home from a violin lesson.
It was the trees, you see, that inspired me.
Hand dipped in Winter’s cold, dripping glass.
Splintering the sun’s curious gaze
As he peered, intrigued,
Through the trees’ crystalline coffins.
For, after the stunning magnificence of first impressions
The ice seemed a cruel burden for the arched birches and flattened pines.
Of course! I thought, their icy torment will only add to the glory of my poem!
I shall call it “Glass Trees”
And bombard the reader with poetic technique!
But, after sitting through
Two
Whole
Hours
Of Tae Kwon Do tests,
My inspiration
Slowly
Dwi
ndl
ed
a
w
a
y.
Self-doubt, a cloudy forest stream the color of mud, washed over his ankles,
Slowly rising in daintily cresting waves.
His feet packed immovably into binding soil as if by witch’s curse,
Lucidly he acknowledged, as the water rose higher and higher, his fate.
As I
walked up to him, between scarcely branched trees, sloshing through climbing
water,
The world moved
in slow motion,
Revolving blurredly, making us the only ones that existed.
His eyes screamed
blankly of hopelessness when they met my own,
Like the eyes of a stray cat, lonely and fearful,
Tossed unwantedly into a state of survival.
Standing, facing him, I reached
out, clasping tight hold of his hands,
Thick and firm,
warm and softly smooth.
I noticed, glancing down, water slowly rising past
our knees.
A
flicker of worry made my heart murmur,
For if the quickening stream continued to ascend,
I would be washed away from him by its power and strength, and
He, slowly covered by water, would drown.
Bearing pull of current,
standing next to one another, we talked.
He told the story of who he was, with eyes unfortunate,
Quietly unfolding family and friends to me.
His dead sister, his steadfast best friend.
He smiled quaintly, acknowledging
the good things in his life,
As I remembered his sarcastic laugh, piercing yet honest,
His sweet candy-necklace tears, sorry for letting us all down,
His ego, like a hot-air balloon,
Swelling with the mention of his highest moments
By some miracle, I hadn’t
already been thrown away.
I hung onto him by the strong grip of his hands,
Water, deep up to my waist, was ripping at my body,
Urging me to be swept away backward.
“I believe in you,” I told him,
“Thanks. See you soon…” he replied, trailing off with a sorrow filled smile.
As the water filtered, coldly and wetly, between our fingers, we lost grip.
Floating upwards in the dirty water, hair soaked,
I saw the shining light of the sun cascade through the leaved trees and warm my
face.
And I woke
up.
|
3rd Place
“Hope” by Sarah S
Northeast Middle School Grade 6
Swimming through the ocean,
Separate from the world.
Fleeing from your troubles,
Watching waves unfurl.
Moving past the drop off,
Starting to sink, fast!
Being held by seaweed,
Lonely thoughts still last.
Weeping through the ages.
Someday you will find,
Creatures that you’ve held close,
Others of your kind.
Trudging through the dry plains,
Seeing none alive.
Crying from your efforts.
Tired, but still you strive.
Crawling, sweating, toiling,
Through the desert heat.
Falling from exhaustion.
Heart has ceased to beat.
Weeping through the ages.
Someday you will find,
Creatures that you’ve held close,
Others of your kind.
Soaring through the moonlit sky
Arms outstretched, like wings.
Watching darkened clouds flash by,
Stars like jeweled rings.
Falling like a raindrop,
Chest begins to pound.
Quickly rushing downward,
Crashing to the ground.
Weeping through the ages.
Someday you will find,
Creatures that you’ve held close
Others of your kind.
Through the pressing darkness,
Threads of light you grope.
For in your soul’s an opening,
Through which you gather hope.
Honorable Mention
“School Night” by Susie S
Jefferson Middle School Grade 8
Clock keeps ticking
Pencil tapping
Mind block sticking
Thoughts of napping
Eyes are drooping
Homework daunting
Darkness snooping
Bad grades haunting
Next day dreading
GPA fretting
Eraser shredding
Mind forgetting
Sun starts rising
To fate resigning
School surviving
For summer pining.
Honorable Mention
“Kelly Tork” by Laura M
Central Middle School Grade 6
Kelly Tork, Kelly Tork,
Her favorite food is the meat called pork.
She likes it cooked, but never raw,
Sometimes she cuts it with a chain saw,
I know she’s weird,
I know she’s odd,
But she and I are two peas in a pod.
1st Place
“I Smell Vanilla in the Breeze” by Patrick C
Dow High School Grade 10
Sometimes life gets hard and my mind wants to divorce my brain
But before the court settles it, something changes
A prayer answered, lesson learned, life inspired, something, anything
Lifts me above my faltering footsteps and clears nostrils clogged with the dust and
Dismay of this world
When that happens I can…
Smell the vanilla in the breeze
Pungent scent, sweet aroma wafting through clouds
Hints of tropical flowers raindrops fit for the gods
Of
Something better
|
2nd Place
“The Morning After the Ice Storm” by Anne S
Dow High School Grade 12
Old dead leaves have turned to glass
In the wind they faintly chime
The world is still, frozen in time
Remnants of the tempest’s pass
Branches are broken, under an icy weight bent
But everything glitters in a cheerful light
Ignorant of the previous night
The only witness is damage rent
Trees are split neatly in half
Then cauterized with gleaming ice
Like by some unseen poltergeist
Leaving eerie beauty in its path
3rd Place
“Artemis” by Anne S
Dow High School Grade 12
Bone white silvery, glows the moon
From all base troubles, free
She sings a lilting, soundless tune
Of pure insanity
The primal beauty’s pitiless
Though of earthly sins it’s clean
She hints of danger, laughs at death
Night’s incandescent queen
Honorable Mention
“Beautiful Brown Eyes” by Dominick S
Windover High School Grade 9
I lie in my bed thinking of her
Her beautiful brown eyes then I heard a knock on my door
It was her crying two in the morning in the cold
We were both so young yet we felt so old
I grabbed her by the hands, held her in my arms, and asked her what’s wrong
She said, “To live without you is agony, it would feel like my soul is gone.”
I grabbed her wrists, went to kiss her, but couldn’t believe what I’m seeing
Her wrists were sliced to death and still bleeding
I looked at her beautiful brown eyes and say
The eyes that had seen death and all
I embraced her in my arms and told her all is forgiven
I just told her I was happy she was still living
She cried more, I laid her down in my bed
The look of her beautiful brown eyes still stuck in my head
I awoke the next morning to find her not in my bed
But on the news found at midnight in her house dead
Beautiful Brown Eyes
Honorable Mention
“More” by Alaina V
Dow High School Grade 11
Damp we walked dark dungeons
Through and through
Turned in a quick step
Turned and returned to the depth
Mirrored our clothes strewn
Ankle deep across the walls
Awkward movement
Smothered voice
Smeared smudged DNA
Cue frantic dance floors
Piles of leaves
Emerged from the darkness
Polluted haze
Breathless cries
Vacancy, vacant the
Pin pricked heart rhythm
Change, changing
Alter, modify
Restless engine.
The night is young.
We’ve made our way.
Goodnight.
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