The world has silenced me, erased my voice---

Through its cruel smiles and piercing cold eyes,

And sugared words that question every choice

As if the truths I tell are merely lies;

I am a caged bird whose song is suppressed,

Searching for freedom---which was through my words;

A little mermaid whose voice is oppressed,

Wishing I chose not love, but to be heard;

But through writing, I can finally speak---

Without the world hating my every phrase;

Through my poetry, my voice is unique,

Heard through lyrical rhymes and rhythmic ways;

The world had silenced me---not anymore---

For my poetry is an open door...

~~

My first time attempting to write a sonnet! :) 

because language is the currency of communication

inkspell

the pen is mightier than the sword

someone, sometime, said in a room cloaked by sunrise

because the sword can only destroy

but the pen has that ultimate gift that generations fought for,

it's the culmination of the dream that was born when fire first sparked in our hands,

it's the gift and the promise, the past and the future, the sun that gives us flight because we are one step closer to infinity--

it gives us the unending power of creation,

sets loose our imprisoned thoughts

and gives us worlds that are all we once desired.

it sways us to the pointless powerful promise of its unbroken harmony.

and in a world where we are shattered,

who are we if we pick up a sword?

who are we if we pierce the broken, obliterate the beautiful, crush the life that seeks hope?

who are we if we do not turn instead to the solace for our wounds,

if we do not try to peace back the puzzle pieces of a world that five-year-old minds wanted to destroy?

swords can never kill completely

if we remember the secret of invention,

the key of life,

the ways to duplicate our laughter and give birth to these children of the sky...

let us reimagine this sword-shattered world

and recognize the strength in our pens

and know that we,

wardens & keepers of a better world,

live because of our inkhearts.

My paper is the sky,

My pen is a ballpoint sparrow streaking

Across the dependable, colorless sunset,

Each line a new horizon,

Each word a memory of 

My bright bird's flight path.

My paper is the earth,

My pen is a black ink hoe digging

Into the rich, deep soil,

Each line a row of new life,

Each word a rare orchid

Of violent violet hues.

My paper is the canvas,

My pen is a a fountian brush painting

Words into poetry,

Each line a breathtaking landscape,

Each word a perfect detail,

A whisper of past, present,

And future. 

Here I am, judging! Congratulations everybody, I thought all your poems were so good and I really enjoyed reading them! Super exciting what y'all came up with.

Honorable Mentions:

AvaraStar: I love the extended metaphors! They really give strength to the poem. My favorite is the 2nd stanza, where you describe the pen as a hoe planting seeds in the earth — “Each word a rare orchid / Of violent violet hues.” Beautiful imagery! I also love how you tie it all together at the end by explaining the significance of each line & word of a poem. I think poetry is super cool because every word has a huge impact and your poem illustrates that really well!