2018 Write to Be Free Poetry Contest Winners, Ages Jayme R. 1 st Place Winner

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Martin Wilcox
5 years ago
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1 2018 Write to Be Free Poetry Contest Winners, Ages Jayme R. 1 st Place Winner Listen I did not know That I would turn out the way I did I still don t know Who I will turn out to be I look around me everyone has their own aesthetic when I look in myself I find a blank canvas Listen I ve always been confused my reason and calling I m still confused On how to find out what they are My future is like an empty map With no clear indication Of where I even started Listen I used to feel anxious When I thought of my future I still feel short of breath When I look at my progress A pull in my core a swirl like a hurricane Pounding and banging in my brain Listen I used to believe I couldn t change who I was But now I know The thing about a blank canvas, empty maps, Or a hurricane Is that I get to decide what I draw, where I go, and how I survive.

2 Peace by Pieces Deeya P. 2 nd Place Winner A puzzle on a table Left abandoned part-way through Is the condition of our planet A piece is me, a piece is you To complete a jigsaw puzzle All the pieces must combine But how can we complete it If no piece is so inclined? I, me, he, and she The words that pieces use Who assert their own ethnicity, Religion, rules, and hues Like two north poles of magnets They repel and don t unite You re not like me they seem to say To meld would not be right As attractive as they are themselves Just think, how would it be? If we all agreed and joined our hands We d have peace, be discord-free So begin to look past skin tone Let us gaze beyond their face; Remove their faith entirely Leave nothing but the base Now the pieces bond together All our differences removed As society accept each piece And we all at once, improve We and us are words we use Look how beautiful! How grand! We re now so high mighty As we stand here, hand in hand Soon the puzzle pieces realize They re not so different after all It doesn t matter if they re black or white Or pudgy, lean or tall If they pray to different deities

3 Or act a certain way They add color to our masterpiece Improve it everyday Locking hands together We are powerful and unbowed Unbreakable and limitless Victorious, brave, and proud If all the pieces join their hands Our beauty will increase And we can try to build our puzzle Slowly. Piece by piece. Artistic Mind Autumn F. 3 rd Place Winner Creative thoughts flow throughout my mind The worst ideas still in red, underlined Even the most perfect ideas get redesigned I open to a page and sketch, drawn lines intertwined Using the mind of an artist All mistakes are detected Fixed and corrected After the sketch has been perfected The colors are selected I choose the right shades, no detail neglected Using my mind of an artist I use different pencils, markers, and paints Very intricate and precise I look over each piece at least twice Finally in my eyes everything looks right Using my mind on an artist Proud of my work, I sign my name Take the colorful canvas and put it in a frame Not looking for recognition, not looking for fame Just creating for fun, not personal gain But just for the adventure and excitement that came At last my work is completed and done The adventure of creating was thrilling and fun That work of art however, is not my only one I ll make more and more Definitely, for sure Using my mind as an artist

4 Emma M. Music keeps me hostage It captures me in its notes Wraps its verses around me Refusing to let go The harmony fills my ears And takes me away Away from the chaos of this world I lay on a soft bed of rhythm The soothing stanzas Rock me slowly to sleep I drift away from reality With each breath of song I lose myself in lyrics I drown in the voices Bouquet K. red poppy like remembrance, like blood and petals falling, falling, falling down red poppy like puddles around them as they are listless, listless, listless, gone black hellebore like death, like dull words of sorry, of we ll just lump them in with the other tragedies and forget black hellebore tinged with red,

5 like anger nipping at the sides of the sadness tinged with the red of no more sitting, of don t carp around about why, why, why of stand up instead white rose like the peace that we ask for that we have yet to receive like the innocence that your weapons have stripped away from us, away, away, gone red poppy like fierce, like reminding us to get up, to stand like the poppy, red and bold and unafraid red poppy like the souls of the children that are the seeds for your wealth for your things that seem to have more value than the children, than their safety, than their futures, than their lives bouquet of flowers, like the students, like colors and sizes, like our differences, like our only link being the sturdy vase of firm determination of we will not break until our words and our actions have brought influence bouquet of flowers, filling the world with a new scent, with the aroma of truth that cuts through the siren song of worldly possessions surrounding those weapons, those weapons that took our orange marigolds, our vibrant suns, our friends, our families, our fellow students, and soon maybe even us bouquet of flowers, with a millions words of a single message, of it is time for change

6 The Nameless Mikul W. We do not know their names. They perish every day. Gassed in their homes, Bombed in their schools Last moments filled With terror and agony. Hearts stopped in sleep, Bodies adorned with flowers the next day. One day, playing soccer In what is left of their streets. The next day, gone forever With no one to remember them. They become meaningless statistics No one cares who they were, Who they might have been And what they might have done. Are we numb to it all Because it has happened so much? Or do we turn away Because we just can t bear to look? Why do we move forward And not stop to grieve? Why are their lives full of darkness When ours can be brimming with light? We cry for our loved ones But the nameless are unloved. Our schools hold fire drills But theirs have fires every day. We try to make all of our hopes Become reality But the nameless have no chance For their dreams lie silent with them.

7 Screens Happy Q. Laughter that filled the air, Rushing through the yard Fairy wings on your backs and princess dresses that touched our toes Just me and my sister. But that was years ago A screen of nonstop entertainment has taken place of what once was laughter. Our loves now taken up by a screen the size of a book. Our games disappeared and fairy wings flew away Only thing left was a screen. A screen of which never allows her to talk to me. Empty Saturdays gone to waste looking at a screen No more laughter, no more fun, just screens. Just screens. Try Naina P. I asked you do to one thing keep going and breaking your promise I try everyday keep losing my faith in you how many more times will it take trying to encourage trying to love trying to convince trying to do what s best for you instead of getting praise and gratitude I get anger and solitude don t you realize how much this affects me? how much it creeps its way into my thoughts during all hours during all days I will keep trying until I m positive that it s futile I want to keep trying because I believe there is a part of you that wants to keep trying too but I don t know if I can I don t know how much I can take

8 of the lies of the deceit of the tears oh the endless stream of tears when my eyes become barriers trying to keep them in only to let the doors fly open when I m alone behind a closed door collapsed on my knees I know it s going to break me eventually it s going to break me physically mentally emotionally spiritually but I will keep trying in spite of the outbursts of negativity directed at me and the pressure that won t turn me into a diamond but into dust I will not give up on you Empousa Lillian C. The empousa: A monster able to change its faces. It trades the visage of mankind, Allowing it to roam a thousand places. Humans have little need to fear the beast, Since it maintains peace and remains propitious. The dream ends and I wake up, Walk to my closet door. Fling it open to find A thousand faces coated in makeup, Expressions locked in a drawer. The weather is a dark and forebodes madness, I select a fade in shades of sadness. The skies are clear and optimistic, I choose a mask painted opportunistic. The disguise I wear hides my tangible expression, One only I see and leave others to question. The different faces cover the things I want to exile, Memories and emotions turned to ash and bile.

9 Why? my mind whispers, Must I not allow myself to be seen? Must I always treat myself as a blister? A sore to be covered with a sheen Of cosmetics to appear pristine. As the sun sinks down, And the darkness begins to settle, I ponder these questions that beg to be known, Am I the empousa, Changing the face I wear in the morn, Only to be loved? The Dark Katie M. able Driving, alone at night, There are no stars, I see no light The beast of darkness surrounds my car On a road that travels one mile too far. A beast that comes and squeezes you tight, A beast that scares you and causes fright A beast that stretches you every which way, A beast that takes your breath away. Driving, in my car alone, The beast arrives, with hands of his own I watch the hands, and feel where they land, On my face, arms, feet, and hands. I feel the darkening in my eyes, With nobody to hear my cries I struggle to escape its grasp, As if its hands were clinging clasps. I feel the beast reach for my heart, The number one, most sacred part I feel the car veer off the road, As darkness surrounds me, above and below. The beast is gone, his works are finished, My eyes are dark, all light diminished, He has torn my heart, and taken my soul, The darkness takes over, as that was his goal. But there is a secret, one the beast knows, Although, you may not believe him so, And even though it does not seem quite right,

10 I am the dark, the beast of the night. One Savannah S. One night One walk One man One hood One suspicion One gun One shot One head One gone Where I m From (Perspective of Celaena Sardothien from Throne of Glass) Lily H. I m from chains and tunnels From armed guards and overseers I m from the salt in the mines that keep me alive (sitting, screaming in the buzzing well of voices) I m from magic long since dead, The pounding of the drums of war And a contest for a thing we take advantage of I m from bloodlust and blades An extension of me I m from long hours and meager meals And my scars tell it all I m from the beatings and the death from the forest of the fae From bowing on the marble To a false king From practicing and patience Lavish gowns and palaces The unsheathe of a sword The firing of a crossbow Of the guards trying to keep me in Under my bed was a blade, a sift of lost faces to drift beneath my dreams. I am from those moments snapped before I budded leaf-fall from the family tree.

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Into Orbit Propaganda Child Look Up, I'm Down There Sunset Devastation Open With Caution Furious Numbers... Into Orbit... 01 Titânes... 02 Propaganda Child... 03 Blind Eye... 04 Pandora... 05 Look Up, I'm Down There... 06 Volcano... 07 Sunset Devastation... 08 Open With Caution... 09 Furious Numbers... 10 Exile...