Judging is heeeere, finally! First, Honorable Mentions, in no particular order, and then Fourth, Third, Second, and last-but-definitely-not-least, first place! 

This was SO hard to judge. All of your poems were so good. 

Azalea-

Honorable Mention

This feeling is so relatable! Every book is a new adventure, and I think this is a super interesting twist on the theme- you can wander the world from a library. The idea that when you pick up a book you’re entering another world is so true. I like how in this poem, reading isn’t treated as a mundane, ordinary activity- it’s treated like a great adventure to a whole new world you’ve never been to, where you’ll meet people you’ve never met and you’ll see and hear things you’ve never heard or seen before and you’ll learn so many things that you never even thought about before. I love how this poem takes something a lot of us take for granted and shows us that it isn’t an ordinary thing, at all, it’s extraordinary. (Also, my brother wanted to judge. I said no, but he said he would have put yours first place. Thought you might want to know :))

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Wreeboo-

Honorable Mention

I like this a lot! I love how it’s about exploring your own mind, instead of some earthly place. It’s an interesting take on the theme. Wandering within your own head, the place you know best (sometimes). It’s about how comforting exploring somewhere you’ve already explored again is. I love that idea! I also love the description of the inside of your head “The splashes of/Color and light and/Glimmering imagination./Then, when my inside-myself’s/Feet hit the inside of my mind,/I’m in my library,/Shelves and shelves of/Old-looking books stretching/Farther and farther into the/Amber light of my head/Red carpet under/My feet and the smell of/Books in my nose”. Especially, “Then, when my inside-myself’s”. That is such a good line! I love the sensory details you included- smell, sight, touch. I can totally visualize the inside of your head in my own head and it’s prompting me to design the interior of my own mind, or maybe I already have and I just have to put a finger on what it is. 

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Kitten-

Honorable Mention

The comparison between the beginning of the poem and the end of the poem is drastically different, in two ways. In the beginning, the lines are long, uncontrolled, wild. Like an incessant storm that drowns out the blue in the sky and seems to draw the color out of everything it touches. And then at the end, the lines are short. Controlled, bittersweet, and subdued, like a light drizzle after the storm has broken. But it’s not exactly happy- the drizzle is still grey and the sky hasn’t cleared yet and the world is still recovering from the storm but it’s a little better. Just a little. This is also a beautiful poem for another reason: the words you chose. “when the ache in my soul grows too loud to drown out…” “and i let the ache grow until i am consumed by longing, and my mind is an endless fog-filled hole stretching down…”. The hopelessness in the first four lines/stanzas is unmistakable and it hits you, hard. And then “until eventually, after an indeterminate amount of time, it starts to ebb, retreat back into itself”. This, to me, is a reminder that even when you feel the most hopeless, it always gets a little better. Your taxi always comes to carry you silently back home.

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Summer-

Honorable Mention

The first thing that strikes me after I read this poem is this message: “Life’s for the living, so live it.” (-Passenger, “Life’s for the Living”, “All the Little Lights”).  You have to take a risk to get out of your figurative labyrinth of ordinari-ness. Of the monotonous life you’ve been living, the comfort zone you’ve never left. Life’s for the living, so live it. This person has been stuck in this labyrinth for so long and when given to step into the unknown, out of the life they’ve known for so long, so long, they choose it. That’s amazing in itself. They chose danger over safety, wandering over staying put. Because what is life without a bit of adventure? You’d stay in the same place for all your years if you didn’t step out of your familiar circle. Another line that really stuck with me: “the path of my freedom/the path to my death.” Those are powerful words. And you work them into a story of chance. On another note: Seriously, this tells a story so well, and in poetry! That’s something that’s really hard for me and you did it so incredibly well. Great job.

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Spellbound-

Honorable Mention

I like the repetition of this poem! Sometimes repetition can be too much but I think you nailed it. You really capture the narrator’s loneliness. “but wandering with you-/wandering with anyone-/would be better.” At this point, your narrator really just wants to be with someone. The poem is a plea. It’s a question. “Will you?” and “Why couldn’t you?”. Even the parts that aren’t questions, are questions. That made no sense whatsoever, but I guess I mean every line is a question in itself, even the ones that are statements. It’s all hinting at the narrator’s loneliness. It’s all hinting at your narrator’s yearning to wander with someone. Nice job!

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Jaybells-

Honorable Mention

I love how this poem is so carefree at the beginning. It’s like wind, dancing over the world on its wings of weightless light. But I also love how it touches on the real world problems that we face. The wind is still dancing, but she’s dancing proudly and defiantly, not just for the fun of it. You can almost see the disapproval on the world’s face as she dances, laughing, flying across the world. But what does the wind care? She goes where she pleases. And what does the wanderer care? She does what she wishes. For “…you can't make a wanderer/Do what a wanderer doesn't want to do.” This poem is quiet defiance. It’s also a carefree dance. Somehow you’ve melded the two into one beautiful tapestry of words.

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Luna Moth-

Honorable Mention

Hrm, this is an interesting take. I like it! One of the things that’s sticking out to me is how this poem isn’t just about wandering because the narrator likes it. This narrator is lost- he/she/they wanders to find their purpose. They are wandering to find a home. The descriptions in this poem are outstanding: “Darkness covers me/Like a wool blanket” and “Am I in a forest, surrounded by trees?/Or am I in a dead city,/with no technology./I have no way of knowing, this night is completely dark,” and “I Wander in solitude/Like a lone cloud across the sky.”

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Skyraa Amber-

Honorable Mention

I love the repetition of “Morning, noon, evening, night.” It adds a mysteriousness to this poem I don’t think it would have otherwise, and a sense of familiarity. Like the day, this cycle repeats itself. The wanderer always wanders, like the day always passes. There is no daily routine, and yet, wandering is as ordinary to the narrator as, say, going to school (or homeschool, if that is the case for you) is for us. There’s also a sense of yearning in this poem- “Sunset rise/I still cannot/Find a home.” It’s a beautiful combination of wanting and being content, something I can relate to a lot. I’m so grateful for what I have, and yet there are still the things I wish I had. I’m sure this is true for a lot of you.

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Luna-Starr-

Fourth Place!

Eek, where do I start?! This was wonderful! The long lines are so out of control and wild. I often get the feeling from your poems that you aren’t writing them- they are writing themselves. Your narrator is so very real, I feel as if I know them. It’s almost as if they are a part of me. The part of me that doesn’t know what to do. The part of me that wants to sink down into the depths of despair and never, ever come out again. But it’s also the part of me that is hopeful- the me after a good long cry about, well, everything. “if only the wisp of hope within me could leave this cage behind and wander among the stars/where i would truly be home.”  That is hauntingly beautiful. Bittersweetly sad. The emptiness of sadness pushes itself into you. Thank you.

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Soda Pop-

Third Place!

I’d like to echo Aza: you don’t write poetry?! Because oh, my, gosh, this is amazing! I love the repetition-but-not-repetition of this poem. I love how the narrator isn’t focusing on what they don’t have- they are disregarding everything anyone might say to scorn your wandering days. The narrator acknowledges the criticism: “i do not have a home” and “i do not have a love” and “i do not have a family”. But then, just which the criticizer is starting to feel triumphant (I’m right! She/he/they admitted it!) the narrator dashes those hopes to bits, so mildly it probably shouldn’t be called “dashing to bits”. “i forgot what i used to have/but this is enough for me/because i am just a wanderer/the birdsong will tell my tale/and one day i’ll live among the stars.” And I love how even within each stanza, the wanderer’s content is so obvious. This is about appreciating the little things, I think, and I love it!

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peppermint-

Second Place!

I love the sweet nostalgia of this poem. It’s fond memories, long past- you wish they were still here, but you’re happy, so happy, that you still have the memories of them. The details of this are part of what make it so beautiful. “when you picked me up/in your clunky little car”, “past the gray buildings that march down my street/through the sweet-smelling orange groves/and fields of wheat”. I feel like I know this place already. You’ve done such a wonderful job of showing the reader this place it feels like I’ve been here before. This poem makes me smile sadly because it reminds me of all my best memories. All the ones I took mental photos of. The ones I wish I could go back in time to visit, but I can’t. But I have the memories, and I love them. I love them so much. And this poem makes me remember them, even if they took place at the chalky white sands of some far-off beach and not where you’re describing, because the feelings are so similar they just blur together. Thank you for reminding me that even the things that happened so long ago are still beautiful.

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dreamiing-

First Place!

Wow. This took my breath away. It’s incredible. The symbolism of the birds in the beginning is amazing, and in the beginning, the reader doesn’t know where this is going to go. But little by little, the story is revealed. The sadness and emptiness is almost tangible- the narrator unknowingly wants you to know how she/he/they feels. No, they need you to know how this feels. The alone-ness hits the reader like a punch in the gut. It’s impossible to miss. But not only is the sadness tangible, so is the narrator’s love. In this poem you can see how much the narrator loves the recipient of this letter. “you told me you couldn’t do it alone/and i don’t want you to.” Those lines pack a punch. It’s devastatingly beautiful. It’s seemingly a poem of parallels, but somehow you’ve made them converge onto one point. But in this poem you draw attention to the fact that sometimes love and sadness go hand in hand. This is heartache in a poem, there’s no other way for me to put it.

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Phew, I think that's all of it. Congrats, dreamii! You get to pick the new theme and judging date! I'm excited to see what you come up with :D 

Faded--

Faded like watercolours spilling across the canvas,

Seeping, creeping, consuming pure innocence;

Faded--

Faded like old maps filled with the unfulfilled promise

of gold and adventure and eternal youth;

Faded--

Like a heart lost, love and friendship long ago worn to dust,

The jagged pain dulling, becoming obsolete with time;

Faded--

Like the the passion to pull yourself up each day, mask cracking,

And pick up a new project you know you'll never finish. 

I know you only

through these

faded photographs

hidden between the pages of a book

in need of reading

I know you only

through these

black and white, and sepia tinted memories

taken on film with

creases along the edges where

the white of the paper shows through

We're a century apart,

yet i'm inches away from

what feels like your memory

and I wonder what you were thinking that day

I know you only

through these

faded photographs

and I know

you will

never know

me

Not sure how much I like this one, but here goes anyways:

~~

Musings of the Forgettable and Forgotten

Did you know

even then

did you know that those were the last things I’d say to you?

Everything is fading away

your face

your eyes

your voice

your laughter

And now all I can remember is my voice, saying those words.

Where did you go?

You never said where you were leaving to but you left anyhow

and you’re gone

Or am I the one who’s gone?

What if you never left?

Did I leave you?

Everything is fading away

All I can remember are those words

did I ever say them?

Where are you going?

Did I ever ask that? Or was it

you

No.

It wasn’t you.

You said you weren’t going anywhere.

But you did! You faded away, 

right there

and I never saw you again

But people don’t just fade away

Were you ever there?

Or maybe

am I the one who’s gone?

I don’t remember if people could walk among the stars then

It’s all fading away

But I can, now

I can

But what if you can’t?

What if I left you behind in that room

the one painted blue

Blue is all I remember from that day

I’ve been here too long for anything else to

stay in my mind for me to think about later

All that is 

Is now

Everything else is

faded