Online Poetry Contest
Read the winning and notable entries.
Kids (ages 5-12)
Winning Entry
Heart Stop
Claire R.
Heart stopper
Life taking
White lines
and green numbers
I'd never thought
I'd be here now
Waiting for the beats to run out
Death awaiting
Body shaking
The clock is ticking
My life is fading
Beat
Beat
Stop
Beat
Beat
Stop
Beating till the heart stop
Every lie comes with a cost
20 percent of lives are lost
The cost of the smoke
The fire
The flame
As my world burns out
and I'm left with shame
Beat
Stop
Beat
Stop
Beating till the heart stop
Paper gowns and flashing lights
Paper thin withering life
protruding bones
and ghostly ribs
blacking out as my strength runs thin
Beat
Stop
Beat
Stop
Stop
Beating till the heart stop
Tearing eyes
and strangled screams
My body transforms
a bloody crime scene
Salty tears mix with blood
soaking in pain of all that was done
Paper clips
and stolen stones
In and In they make it go
In In In the numbers grow
It'll make you strong
Protect your heart
but I don't care
it's worth the heart stop
Beat
Stop
Stop
Beat
Stop
Stop
Beating till the heart stop
Our story is ending
This chapter is failing
Parents cry
Through every good bye
Gone are our dreams
Gone is our life
They say you'll leave before your time
Everynight I watch my breath
Wondering how much breath I have left
I watch my heart and shallow lines
As silent tears leak from swollen eyes
Beat
Stop
Stop
Beat
Stop
Stop
Stop
Stop
STOP
Now I"ll have the heart stop
Beat
I won't let my heart stop
Notable Entry
Stay Strong
Harper Z.
Falling short,
making a Wish,
taking Ten Thousand Tries,
But it’s Farther Than The Moon.
Still being Shattered,
but Even If We Break,
I Can Make This Promise that the Only Road to success,
isn’t thinking about All The Things That Could Go Wrong,
By taking the Full Ride, Being Brave, and finding the friends you are Meant To Be with,
You are living your life to its full potential,
So Slay the day away.
Come And Find Me,
while I am Gone,
I Am Still Alive,
so Don’t Stop Now,
Blue Skies will come.
Notable Entry
In the forest all alone
Allison S.
Leaves are back on trees
Spring comes to make peace and love
But I’m left alone
Teens (ages 13-17)
Winning Entry
Ode to the Root
Grace F.
Complex,
as the strands of eternal life grow,
the routes reaching endlessly
into a dark abyss.
On the surface
above the hidden architect,
the underground kingdom
with a network of streets,
lies a simple organism.
A lofty tree,
the boughs blooming
with colorful leaves,
such elegant complexion
flowing throughout,
seeking for attention.
Ignored,
resilient wanderers
keep the plant anchored
absorbing water,
as the fresh scent of nature
drifts up.
Unseen heroes,
the backbone of the tree,
while one marvels
over the heavenly site.
Petals blooming,
like awaking to the sun’s delicate fingers
after the dim surface of dawn,
but little did they remember
the foundation of all that stands in front.
The roots of this plant,
what aids the growth,
what aids the strength,
yet what is simply forgotten.
Notable Entry
What I Want
Mia T.
Pockmarked, scarred, blemished skin
A bulging ashy fiber crown
Thick skin
An obtrusive and intrusive body
“Cosmetically challenged”
Lump gripped and dripped skin
Easy
Light licked and bit skin
Seedless needless
Bloated and distended zipper-skin
Rumination germination
“Butt ugly”
Confusion protrusion
A repugnant sun in my palm
I wonder if a dekopon,
Shiranui mandarin,
Sumo orange,
Sheds its peel
Willingly because it has so much to give
A sweet note
Acidic bite
Sun savored sap on my tongue
But afraid of when it puts up a fight
Its little cousin, Clementine Cutie, could not possibly understand
It is too easily digested
Appealing, even
A gift to the beholder
However, when I dig into its shell
It squirms and struggles
Poreless and smooth I cannot get a grip
Jabbing the side with my thumb
Under my nails its scent claws into my fingertips
Unfolding fractured and frail
I could not want it
It does not want me
Give me the sumo
Let it roll and fill my hand
Let it give its love to me
Thick skin aside
Let it kiss me with its light
Drip on my chin
Stain my lips
Give me something I want
That wants me too.
Notable Entry
Where I’m From
Reya V.
I am from skies of muted pink hues and bright orange glows,
of sparkling stars and marbled milky moons.
Limitless.
I am from pages of my own book,
from frosty evenings spent playing soccer,
softly whipped mint ice cream instantly melting into my tongue,
dying of laughter with my family about everything and nothing at once.
I am from glittering lakes and oceans
filled to the brim with hope and hard work,
hours of Karate, homework, and book-writing.
I feel the gentle wind pushing me forward with approval.
I am from scrapes and sprains and wins and losses,
never-ending bruises and muddy cleats that sit uncomfortably,
like a pair of comfortable fluffy slippers,
pleading to be worn again.
I live in a whirlwind of wonder and magic,
where cherry blossoms fall in May and cats hide from FedEx trucks.
I am from fantasy games outside with friends,
my hands tracing the edges of the mighty rock named Helma,
and the hammock that sits below the spy house.
I taste flavors of the future,
exhilaration, sorrow, and success,
hoping for a sunflower life of lavender and daisies.
I feel the gentle wind pushing me forward with approval.
I am from the powdery snow I misplace while gliding,
gracefully down the mountains on sunny days at Snoqualmie,
marshmallow puffs bobbing like buoys in creamy chocolaty goodness.
I am from two cups of flour and a teaspoon of baking soda,
the chocolate chip cookie recipe I memorized.
I feel calm in the dancing storm but crazy in the flowing breeze,
happy in the chaos but blue in the bittersweet silence.
I am from summer swim team and strawberry smoothies,
a blender mashing everything into one.
Together.
I live in a whirlwind of wonder and magic,
with monkey trees and years of rock-collecting.
I yearn for flames of warmth to comfort my soul,
I pretend to know where I will go,
I fear the distorted shape of my fan in the dark,
a shadow coming to haunt my nightmares.
I dream of flying,
I can almost feel the gentle wind pushing me forward with approval.
Adults (18 and older)
Winning Entry
Reflections
Karen Bradbury
My grandmother
Is like water
Wrinkles ripple on her skin
Thin lines like vibrations from a pebble
Breaking the surface
She is wavy, distorted
Like a tree reflected in the mirror of a lake
The edges of her soft, undefined
So that I cannot see her clearly
Warped by too much time
She stares at me,
And I at her,
Through sepia toned paper
Like a muddy river running both towards me and away
As I try to cross
Shadows swirl in the depths
And light sparkles on the swells
Revealing questions that cannot be answered
And memories that dance through my watery eyes
She is the ocean
Inviting and comforting, yet mysterious, boundless
I wade into the shallows
Let the tides wash over toes, as waves crest and crash
Then ebb away from me with a soft sigh
I can only stand at the shore, the deep dark areas
Now out of my reach
And she is a swimming pool,
The one at her old apartment building
That I swam in until my fingers and toes
Wrinkled into raisins
And she wrapped me up in a towel
Squeezed the water from my pigtails
Leaving puddles of pool water
To dry up in the sun
Slowly fading into gray concrete
She is liquid
Languidly drifting through my mind
Sometimes clear, sharp
Sometimes silt filled, grainy
She moves through me,
Like a river through a valley,
Blood in my veins.
Notable Entry
Untitled
Florence Card
this is not a haiku--
there are far too many words
crowding behind my teeth
clamoring to exit
when they spill forth
it is in an unanswerable utterance
and i am surprised to discover
that there is no language at all
but rather
an exaltation of larks
and my lips are dripping
with bits of eggshell
and tufts of feather
shaking my head in disbelief
clears neither my thoughts
nor my throat
as my startled body issues forth
another exuberant flock
Notable Mention
Woman who looks at her other self
Maria Vignau-Loria
Am I still the woman that I was before coming here?
What happened to the woman that I could have been if I had never left home?
The woman that I am today,
who has been living here for so long,
is both a dear friend and a hostile stranger,
and I can only imagine what “she” would think
(she, the one that never left),
if she saw me walking my walk, talking my talk, feeling these feels.
The fancy glasses that I nonchalantly wear,
the wistful smile that reflects the joy of living in this cold place by the sea,
the dark clothes that dress the evidence of love and loss,
and the melancholic silence that fills the miles between my two homes.
And if they met,
the woman that I am today,
who left
(and lost while seeking to thrive),
and the woman that would have been,
who stayed,
(and struggled in passionate haste)
If they met,
would they recognize each other?
Notable Entry
Monarchs Flutterby
Margot Richardson
As a spider, I’m filled with elation
to witness the Monarch's migration
of orange and black wings,
the most exquisite things,
as they flutter to high elevation.
And while these bright creatures look tasty
I’ll remember to not be so hasty
For while it is true
That I’ve sampled a few
They tasted of milkweed, so pasty!
So instead, I will never deny
That their journey's a feast - for the eye!
Winging thousands of miles
in fluttering freestyle
sparks of flame in the deep azure sky.
