tysm Jaybells!!! that really means a lot to me especially bcus I've only been here for five months and i'm kind of young, older then ten but younger that fifeteen, so a lot of cbers have wayyy better poems than me XD

Hey guys! Judging day has arrived :) Thanks for all your entries, you are all so talented and it was really fun reading and judging your work :)

Honorable mentions, in no particular order:

Moon Wolf! Each line is so short and simple, yet each one encapsulates a new idea which catches the reader's attention. I love how you contrast "shadows of truth" with "the glorious light of lies" - the reference to shadow and light is very in-keeping with the idea of a photograph, but you take it even farther by introducing the theme of truth vs. lies, making the reader wonder - can a photo/picture really represent truth? I also like the lines "the song of silence/plays so much louder/than the music that floats/from long-forgotten streets" - it continues the juxtaposition of opposites that marks the whole piece. It's interesting how you take lots of different ideas and use them as "building blocks" for a poem. Overall the piece is thought-provoking and deep, good job!

Hawkstar! I love this poem more the more I read it! Your imagery is wonderful - the contrasts between dark and light, for instance. The cosmic references really convey the depth and breadth of the writer's feelings, and give an extra touch of magnificence to the imagery. They give the poem a sense of continuity as well, and really pull all the lines together. I especially like the lines "You say I'm your whole world/ But to me you are the galaxy" - it's a really clever inversion of the trite phrase "you're my whole world". I don't know if this was intentional, but I like how you used the words "veil", "vile," and "evil" in one line - all of which are different combinations of the same letters - and then use "life" in the next line, which is almost the same combination of letters - it's really cleverly done! I also just like the theme of friendship (or perhaps romance? *says the confirmed romantic*) and how two people can complement each other. Excellent!

Woodwind! You're great at technique. The slashes are very effective, capturing the mood of suppressed panic, and the final collection of punctuation marks gives a visual representation of the final catastrophe. Your images and metaphors are original and effective as always.

AvaraStar! This poem is so sweet and moving. I love the way it describes the photograph of the people "frozen in time", and the feelings that the narrator has about the photograph. Finally, the ending - it's such an unexpected and hearfelt conclusion, ending the poem in a sweet, delicate way. I feel like the length and rhythm of the lines also helps convey shades of meaning, something I always like in poetry. Good job!

Luna-Starr! IYou did a really good job of portraying the cafe, and the
tone is excellent - it feels lightly resentful, without making the poem
too angsty. It also sounds very masculine, which, given the narrator's
masculinity, makes it sound more authentic. Finally, I like the final
idea, contrasting the idea of a painting being "commissioned" and the
idea of the "painting" that the narrator has created.  Through the
different images and references to images, you create a really
interesting work in itself! Well done :)

Third place

Jaybells! Your poetic voice is as
distinctive and strong as ever. The meaning of the poem is really
thought-provoking, and the way the theme develops keeps the reader
interested. At first it's not clear to whom the narrator is speaking,
then gradually it appears that it's a parent - but perhaps it could be
interpreted as God or some other creator? I also like the line "Un-/" -
it really provides a visual way of showing what the narrator is trying
to say. The ending is interesting too - is the narrator angry at the
parent, or hoping that the parent will be able to keep his or her
memories intact, without having them destroyed by realizing that the
children are no longer the same as they were? It can be interpreted all
sorts of different ways, which is why I think it's a good poem. Great
job!

Second place

KatanaLuna! You develop the theme of "picture" really well - it's like a
metaphor for the narrator's identity and life, yet at the same time a
way of escape and new beginnings ("using the beautiful, colorful paint
to bring color to my petals"). Within the poem there are many more
excellent metaphors and images, but it doesn't feel overloaded - it just
makes the poem richer and conveys the emotions of the narrator. The
subtle changes in the rhythm of the lines also conveys the mood (for
example, "there are words other than stuck and sad and trapped" - the
emphasis on "stuck," "sad," and "trapped" makes it more yearning, I
think), and the lines themselves follow each other very naturally, even
melodiously. This is poetic and beautiful - wonderful :)

First place

CelineBurningBright! I really like this poem, because it's so vivid, like a painting in itself. You convey the character of the girl so well - open, laughing, happy - and the feeling of love and adventure is done wonderfully, conveying an atmosphere of joy. The imagery and description is really well done too - you establish right away that it's a sunrise, then develop it with references to "gold light" and "cold air", which capture the mood and allow the reader to get a beautiful mental picture of what the scene is like. Finally, you're very skilled with poetic techniques - sometimes poems seem like prose broken up into lines, but this is really poetic in all meanings of the word. The lines follow each other naturally, building up on each other, and the last one is a perfect ending. Superb, you're the next judge!

Just Kids

We’re just kids, we can’t help it

My hair was short and curly and I hated the color navy

I didn’t know the word for shoes and I ran down sidewalks and sang

I got older and now I love navy and my hair’s long and I just used the word "shoes” twice so there you go

What if that’s one version of me dead and I’ll never see her again?

We’re just kids, we can’t help it

I wore a school uniform and my eyes were still a little blue and I took keyboard lessons and I danced to songs I liked and sometimes on special days I ate a waffle sundae for dinner

I got older and now I haven’t touched my uniform in years and my eyes aren’t blue anymore and I haven’t even thought to make a waffle sundae since then so there you go

What if that’s one version of me dead and I’ll never see her again?

We’re just kids, we can’t help it

I drew lots of pictures and I was just discovering my music taste and I liked video games and I wrote poems and I rode my bike in the parking lots that’d been empty for months because I had nothing else to do

I got older and now I lost my sketchbook and my playlist is three hours long and I outgrew my bike I think so there you go

What if that’s one version of me dead and I’ll never see her again?

I’m not a kid, but I wish I was

This version of me is so melodramatic and I daydream too much and I’ve been threatening to get my hair cut off for years and it finally happens tomorrow and in two weeks I start high school 

But sitting here with my worries, I realize that I still love to sing and I just ran down a sidewalk yesterday and my hair will be short the way it used to be tomorrow. I still play keyboard, I’m just better now and I still dance and every now and then my eyes still look just the tiniest bit blue. I could get up and make a waffle sundae now if I wanted instead of just lamenting and maybe while I’m eating it I’ll add a new sketchbook to my wishlist or maybe I’m not hungry and I just want to play the same video games I used to play because I still love them even if I don’t have as much time now that I’m not in isolation all day. I think it clicks at last when I realize I’m writing a poem now so there’s still a wide-eyed fifth grader somewhere inside me and then the what ifs change

What if I still have everything I used to have

What if every version of me that’s ever existed is not dead but rather living inside of me

What if tomorrow I get up

And grab some chalk

And make drawings at the end of the driveway

What if the version of me who didn’t need glasses and was missing her front teeth and still believed in fairies

Is the reason I do it

What if I’m still a kid and I can’t help it?

Do you remember that girl

with mats in her hair

and stars in her eyes?

Do you remember that girl

who wore a Rainbow Dash t-shirt

and strped shorts

every day of summer?

Do you remember that girl

who was a perfectionist even then,

who cried when her painting

wasn't as good as she imagined?

Do you remember that girl

who barely knew how to dance,

but hopped around the studio anyway?

Do you remember that girl

who drew dragons,

only dragons?

Do you remember that girl

who made faces at herself in the mirror?

(don't tell anyone, but she still does)

Do you remember that girl

with the chipped teeth

and the wild red curls

pulled into a star braid

for the fourth of july?

Do you remember that girl

who dreamed of pointe shoes,

and who cried when she got them?

Do you remember that girl

with the cast on her ankle

and the tears in her sea blue eyes?

Do you remember that girl

who had to relearn to walk normally,

but danced even with that

ugly, black boot?

Do you remember that girl

who pretended so hard,

she believed the a

little bird had flown to her hand?

Do you remember that girl?

I do. 

To breathe is to live and to live is to know—when the harsh cold winter no longer dances snowflakes but frozen tears

To a child touched by knowledge—and sorrow, far too early in their years

To the dancer who grew old and was told to stop—but still dances at midnight, when everyone’s asleep and Cinderella’s gone

To the person who would keep reaching for the stars and never gave up—even when they kept failing

To the magician who spins magic in their own way—despite the fact that people see it as “lame”

To a kid still laughing and playing in happiness—true happiness, which is homemade…

I blow dandelion seeds in my dreams—like I used to in real life in my childhood

I twirl under the stars in my thoughts—like I used to when  it was dark, unabashedly

I blow candles out for the night—like I used to during birthdays, eager smiles and shining eyes and…

I did it once, can I do it again…?

I search for the slightest glimmer of that kid I used to be

So eager to grow up, not knowing its consequences

And despite the rules and expectations to follow,

I could do it again, just to feel pure happiness again,

Or just be able to cry once more, without anyone judging—

Anything to feel something again— 

I did it once, can I do it again…?

I can become a kid again, right?

Forget everything but my innocence—

Live in a world that I think is happy and peaceful

To know is to live and to live is to breathe—I can breathe it all back out again

I breathed it in, and after all…

I did it once, I can do it again…

Congrats Celine, your poem was so good!! And @Peri, whoa, your poem is wonderful - it's perfect as far as capturing nostalgia for childhood goes, and it combines the past and present so that you feel like they're both there, and it all ties together into something so beautiful :)

~

i remember the

warmth of your finger

lined up against mine the

heat of your kiss on my

cheek the flame

sparking in your eyes and

i remember how

much i should have

valued you i

remember how little i ever

did and i remember

things that i hardly even

noticed at the time and

i realize how they are

important now but were

not important at all

when we were kids

-FRIENDS 

Do you recall when we were kids

Pals since diapers and bibs

Singing lots of silly songs

The line was blurred between right and wrong

{Mischief makers, weren’t we a pair}

tournaments of hide-and-seek

we played competitively, once a week

breathless giggles

helpless wiggles

[we both declared each other the winner]

Finger paint our little faces

You the clown, I the princess

Together we were questers

And in the end, both jesters

{We always made the other laugh}

races were run, everywhere

none of them, of course, were fair

and during shared meals, whispers exchange

from secrets to insults, they would range

[best of friends, were we]

But now everything is just weird

Our easy friendship has disappeared

No longer close, we’ve grown older

All feelings have gotten colder

{Our other friends tease and poke}

I don’t want to make it more

But please don’t try and make it less

I just want to

Just want to stay friends

Things would be much easier

If I were just your sister

Because then we could only

Only be friends

remember when we were younger

you’d gripe and groan about hunger

we’d make a supply

of fresh homemade mud pies

[our fingers and faces, always dirty]

You would call me on the phone

Even though I was across the road

“Come over to my yard to play”

“But it’s raining,” I would say

{“Exactly”}

feather-fly pillow fights

at every sleepover night

movie before bed

but you would always droop you head

[onto my shoulder, the popcorn all mine]

You would share with mee

Every white dandelion you’d see

So that we’d both get a wish

Blow the seeds with a swish

{I’d now wish for then}

but now everything is just weird

our easy friendship has disappeared

no longer close, we’ve grown older

all feelings have gotten colder

[our other friends tease and poke]

i don’t want to make it more

but please don’t try and make it less

i just wanna

Just wanna stay friends

things would be much easier

if you were just my sister

‘cause then we could only

only be friends

Stardust and sticks

Silly tricks

Don’t you remember, don’t you miss

Things from childhood bliss

[yes]

I thiiink this fits the promt? Kinda? 

i changed the names but simon is supposed to represent someone i met at camp this summer. hopefully it fits the prompt enough *shrugs*

liminal friendship [epistolary]

dear simon,

today i wished i had something to say to you, (and i wished

that you would respond if i did.)

best, woodwind

dear simon,

remember that time i trusted you and / you held me as i cried and / panic soared forgotten on the breeze of thought / and you told me i was strong and brave and it was gonna be ok and

remember that time a few days earlier when i should have said the same to you?

(i would, if i could go back. but we can only go forward, alone.)

best, woodwind

dear simon,

it’s funny how i only knew you for a month but you saw farther into me than most people ever will. (i hope someone sees you the same way, someday.)

best, woodwind

dear simon,

i resent that you’re now just a thought, a profile in my texts. impersonal, and

cold. i miss your hug.

—i miss memories / staying up ‘till five am / cookie / learning to juggle / i miss playing werewolf / expo markers / want to show / k-n-o-m-e—

i miss feeling like nothing mattered. because we were kids, and it didn’t.

(because we knew it was going to end.)

best, woodwind

dear simon,

i don’t want to grow up, if it means we’ll forget each other. you, and all my other friends i only talk to occasionally,

when they bother to respond, as

text on screens. sent from other states, countries,

continents.

i miss something i’ll never have.

dear simon, (i miss you.)

best, woodwind