hi everyone i'm so sorry! i am working on them right now and will have the judging out by tonight. sorry for the delay!!

hello! i'm so sorry for the wait but here is the judging a day late (i should not be allowed to judge these things i do not think i've done it on time once, i'm so sorry). you all submitted gorgeous poems and if i could give you all first i fully would <33 my apologies for any poor grammar, spelling, and my definitely atrocious capitalization.

HONORABLE MENTIONS, in no particular order:

Periwinkle - eee yess i love everything about this! the attitude, the imagery, the flipped repetition it’s all just so good. you have very very eloquently put your feelings on the page and i greatly admire that and what’s more it’s really pretty! and i love the exploration of resurrection of somebody else at the cost of another life. it’s very thought-provoking and i think you touched on that a little here which is cool :D

Sterling - PERSEPHONE. AHH. YES. to everything about this. the plant imagery is gorgeous! the narrative is amazing (and i mean that from both a plot and writing standpoint) and that last line is such a nice ending. this is an interesting play on persephone, i think, because it gives her autonomy in a way? like she didn’t get kidnapped, she went of her own accord, and she didn’t need to be rescued, she got out of there herself, and i mean. how would i not love that, especially when paired with beautiful writing. great job, sterling!

THIRD PLACE: Jaybells - ohoho yes i like this very much. it’s so lyrical and contrary to what you said i actually like that it’s a little bit all-over-the-place! the first stanza i especially love—it’s a beautiful introduction and sets the tone nicely. also, i love how it’s kind of a dialogue—starting with a statement of facts and “that’s impossible,” ending with a sort of “okay well i guess you’re doing this don’t say i didn’t warn you” thing. if you look at it as a narrative it’s actuallly really not all over the place ahaha. you are a genius and this is lovely <3 

SECOND PLACE: peppermint - okay YES floral imagery my favorite thing ever and you do it so well! i like how you take resurrection as bringing something back to life that is not necessarily literally dead? if that makes sense. and i love the metaphorical idea that flowers can bloom again and poetry that explores it, and i feel like this did that so beautifully. i’m so glad i got to read this!

FIRST PLACE: oldish books - eehshkjfhkjed. this is so pretty <3 the images are so welcoming and almost nostalgic, and i love how you used resurrection as a them and not a literal thing that happens in your poem? (also the little rhyme scheme at the end! i have no idea if that was intentional but i love it!) the tone change is done so well, by the way. it starts out very bleak and ends on such a nice warm note and that’s reflected in the comparisons you make (“frozen river” to “warm cocoa”) and it’s so cool. i think overall it’s just a poem that feels like it’s giving you a hug and i love that about it! 

@oldish books you're the next judge :) 

ahhhh thank you so so much!! Ok so the next theme is euphoria. Ill judge on March 17th!

my disjointed 3am ramblings are a product of my stress and insomnia and edited on the afternoon city bus & i quite like it but it probably doesn’t make sense to anyone else :P

looking for you(phoria?)

you said I was pretty, in a way

only a depressed, stressed mess

of a genius could be.

and you whispered my name like an incantation, 

two syllables a heartbeat in your mouth,

the thought of me flooding your veins with ichor.

well, darling, take a look at me now, i must be beautiful.

i stumble into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and weary, 

and my grandmother’s floral wallpaper is just too darn cheery, 

and the fluorescent light hurts my eyes, too bright and stark, 

why can’t the world just join me here in the dark? 

i glance around the kitchen, eyes ricocheting off the counter & the fridge, looking for—

looking for...?

looking for earl gray tea. 

no, that wasn’t quite right.

i’m looking for something else. what? oh, who knows?

something...someone? 

gosh, it’s hardly ever cold anymore here at night 

it’s already march, we’ve had a winter without snow

oh, it’s bitter and cold and an icy wind blows

whipping my hair as i wait for you at the bus stop

(you failed to show — don’t know why i’m surprised)

yeah, but it refuses to snow, so i’m here, i’m numb, i just want to feel—

feel...?

feel something, i don’t know what, 

i’ve lost it a long time ago,

yeah, you’ve slipped through my fingers

like sand in an hourglass

time’s running out, time’s running out 

(isn’t it all already gone?) 

but something about you, about us still lingers, 

it isn’t tangible, but there nonetheless, 

and i only catch glimpses of it, in a dream, in the looking glass. 

yeah, darling, you’ve gone 

and taken everything with you. 

are you proud of your

ability to wreak so much destruction?

better to be a blazing wildfire

than a passive burning leaf

(i’ve been the fire, darling, oh i’ve been the leaf)

yeah, i guess since you’re gone i should feel relief,

but then why am i overwhelmed with grief?

i’m not mourning you, no, it’s myself that i’ve lost 

lost...? 

gosh, it’s been so long, 

i can’t remember what I lost

can’t remember how i used to feel.

when i pace around the kitchen at 3am,

i’m looking for a shadow, a ghost

of who i used to be

(you always said you didn’t believe in ghosts—

then why do you keep coming back to haunt me?)

but i can never find it

i can never go crawling back to you

on all fours like some sort of a beast, 

no, the next time i see you, it’ll be as equals, 

crowned head held high, fire in my eyes,

smirking because i’m finally happy without you—

happy?

oh, darling, i’m not looking for you, no,

i’ve been looking for euphoria this whole time.

earl gray tea doesn’t drown my woes,

no, but it gives me a taste of who i used to be,

somebody we both used to know.

if i’m happy now, i know you think i’m ugly

(because you used to whisper my name like an incantation,

now you breathe it like a curse.)

but darling, i don’t need you anymore.

oh darling, i’ve found euphoria.

so im going on vacation for a week and wont be able to attend to this so judging will be on the 27

I don't reeeaally know how I feel about this...?

yellow

there is a certain shade of yellow that matches your hair almost perfectly

(not because you are blonde but because you are golden, and how could

your hair be anything less? if you added just a little bit of sunlight 

it would be sparkling)

there is a certain shade of yellow that matches candlelight and something soft

and this is the yellow i’ll spend my whole life looking for, in the gold

of your hair and the creases in your shirt and the sound of your voice

a yellow so quiet it’s barely there

there is a certain shade of yellow that matches a tree in full bloom. it is the color 

of your hands in mine and laughing and singing good songs badly, but honey

we were having the time of our lives (and it was

yellow, in all your splendor

in every shade you might even call it euphoria) 

This may be terrible, or it may be ok, but either way I thought I'd submit it... it's in a sort of early 1900s style, which I quite like.

Fresh Start in Life

In the village chapel a bell is ringing

And in the elm a blackbird is singing - 

Through the ruby dawn his clear notes are spilling,

In the cold fresh sunrise his voice goes trilling.

Sparkles on the river, pinpoints of light,

And the day is here - gone is the night,

The green spring leaves rustle in the perfumed breeze,

And springing - springing - springing - through my heart,

The euphoria of love, of life, of a fresh start.

close enough

let me indulge myself again:

if it were up to me, we'd be

on a fantasy balcony, stealing away from some royal party (i don't think about how we'd get there)

there'd be a sunset for eyes to drift to, comfy couches for us to fall into, we are already

as close as can be (i don't think about how we'd get there) and our words would flow naturally

towards love and the other things we never talk about (like someone wrote dialogue)

and i don't know how everything would be okay because by then the suspension of disbelief is just too much

--- 

in my dreams, though- the real ones, the ones full of nonsense and abstract truth (so: poetry of the mind)-

we are in a car (like we always are)

and my mother is there (but somehow i do not care)

and the world outside is hazy pink-and-blue 

i just lay my head on your shoulder

and i cannot feel the inhibitions anymore

for i am so,

so

tired

and you are so soft-

---

but i know there will be no balconies for us.

(only the railings out back of the school if i'm lucky)

no spontaneous kisses at the top of carnival rides

(you won't touch a rollercoaster: one of the first things i learned about you)

(but you are still braver than i am)

no great declarations, no wedding days

(there is no holiday for this kind of love)

for us, there is only now:

the backseat of a big red car with a woman i half hate

(but the sun is shining and i forgive her)

we are talking about that movie i still haven't watched

(again: i remember the last time but i bet you don't)

and that reminds me of a book i've read, and oh so have you-

this would make terrible dialogue but at least our words flow naturally

like the sun

that turns your hair golden

(i can't think how the bad things could ever have happened)

and i wish i could keep you right here in this sunlit moment

but this is as close to euphoria as i'll get,

and euphoria never lasts. 

I haven't posted any poetry on here in a very, very long time. I don't know what this is but I wrote it down so I thought I'd post it and that is about as much thought as I have given to the matter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Something Yellow 

my dreams are forever changing

i catch glimpses of shattered glass and tennis balls and city lights at night 

and Something Yellow

i do not know what the Something Yellow is

all i know is it is Yellow, and a Something

i am trapped under ten feet of frozen water (ice, if you will) and the Something Yellow remains,

above me.

sometimes, when i am drowning in all the mile-long tasks of daily life,

(polynumeral functions and blocking out the hateful words and trying to find matching socks)

i think about the Something Yellow

does the Something Yellow have matching socks?

no. and it does not care.

does the Something Yellow waste hours of its life crying over things it does not, can not understand?

no. why should it?

does the Something Yellow stand in the mirror each morning, twisting the corners of its mouth upwards to make it look like a smile, an illusion hiding in plain sight?

most definitely not. (the Something Yellow is, to the best these simple words can describe, an illusion of an illusion.)

oh, to be a Something Yellow

to be everything under the sun and above the sun and around the sun, and nothing more than a speck of dust on the wall, all at the same time

to be the only real thing in whatever you call this thing we are,

the euphoria of my ever-shifting dreams.

Judging time!

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Poinsetta: Wow. Wow wow wow. I adore this poem. I love the rhyming at the end of every line and the rhythm of the piece is so satisfying! The descriptions are so good while being incredibly poetic! While reading this I felt like I was watching a movie or looking at a picture. I especially love the line:"Through the ruby dawn his clear notes are spilling" I love it!! 

Phueonix Tears: Gosh where to start? This poem is so real. You capture the things we do that make no difference in the end, like finding mathing socks. Is that really going ot make us happy? I love how you portray "something yellow" as though it is an animal or a being that we all should aspire to be like. Instead of introducing a situation of absolute euphoria, you introduce euphoria as a thing that is really only in dreams, that we think we have had a euphoric experiance when ture euphoria can only be found in our heads. 

THIRD PLACE: Luminescence: eeeeee this is so beautiful help. I love love love the association of yellw with euphoria, and that you are comparing the person that makes you feel eurphoric to the color yellow. I love how it starts, how you explain to the reader that this persons hair does not seem yellow because of the color but because of how golden and wonderful this person is and that reflects through their entire body and soul. This idea continues through the poem and eek it makes it so so beautiful and pefect!!

SECOND PLACE: Azalea: wooooahhhhhhh this poem is perfect!!!!!!! I love the idea of the converstion between the narrator and the other character being written dialogue because of how the conversation flows but how the narrator thinks it would make terrible dialogue. i love the little anecdotes in parentheses every few lines, it gives the poem so much depth. It perfectly portrays how euphoria is easily found in another person. Another beautiful part of this poem is the second staanza that perfectly paints the picture of how when you are in true euphoria you really cant think of any thing else except the moment were in which is such a beautiful idea. You really know how to make this poem so real while being so distant and beautiful. It feels like something that you could really experiance while you get little clips of random information about the two characters, how one is afraid of roller coasters (but is still brave) which feels so real and how the other somewhat hates their mother but can forgive her in this moment because of the sun and the euphoric feeling. 

FIRST PLACE: Pangolin: uggggg I love this SO MUCH!!!!! I love the sort of back and forth from one idea to another. Its like the narrator is having a converstion with themself. I love the third stanza especially. How the narrator jumps from thinking that earl gray tea is the thing they are missing to trying to figure out for two lines before immediatly jumping to how odd the weather is and then to waiting for someone who never comes. It flows so beautifully but at the same time the somewhat short attention span that causes the narrator to jump around os much is just as beautiful. And then in the fifth stanza how you portray the perosn this is being addresed to as a destructive wildfire but then you portray the narrator as both the destructer and the desctructed with my favorite line "i've been the fire darling, oh i've been the leaf" The last stanza is also perfect because the narrator realizes what they have actually been looking for and its beautiful. <3

@Pangolin- Your judging next!