2012 Teen Poetry Contest Winning Poems

7th & 8th Grade Division

1st Place: "How?!" by Michael Stern 

How does she do it!?
Everything is black, twisted and grotesque when she's gone.
So I use the demon's strength to push through.

However even that power wavers at times,
and when it does so, somehow she.
Expels the demon and makes it all clean and bright again.

I shall never be able to put into words what she does,
all I know is that her gentle touch makes everything seem as perfect as her.

No. Nothing can ever come close to her perfection, nothing.
I would give anything to keep her, please her every whim and make her life as perfect as she has
made mine.

But unfortunately I cannot.
For the demon beckons.
It pulls me away from her, chewing on my pain at the visions of her in another's arms.

These images bring forth the full strength of my demon.
But I hold it down as best I can,
for if it were to get out,
everything I know would be obliterated in its rage.

 


 

 2nd Place: "Music" by Sarah Balla

Concrete Poem- Music


3rd Place: "Predator" by Shehla Chowdhury 

I stalk by the day 

I pounce by the night 

When you see me you see beauty 

When they see me they feel fright 

To you I am a toy for your amusement 

To them I am a slow death 

I am a predator 

I am a tiger 

And because of you I am trapped


 

HONORABLE MENTION: "The Drumstick" by Mikey Williams

My mind was furious. I was yelling at a blistering level. Enough to destroy a man's ears.

The wind is fast, and I'm right above it.
Suddenly I'm falling, falling, falling.
Then right before I hit the ground, I wake up and then go downstairs, waiting for an
awful day to horrify me

When I make it to school, it starts to begin.
I am bored, waiting class after class just waiting for the time to end.
I finally make it to lunch, and then I know that I will make it to the end of the day.

I finally made it out of school. As I'm biking my way home, I see kids from Meadow
Glens, walking on their legs or biking to complete their journey home.
As I biked, I smelled a terrible stench that smelled like a dead rat combined with the
smell of tar. I knew that I smelled the stench of rubber tire stains on a tar road.

I enter my house, and my dog was barking from the top of the stairs.
He comes running down the stairs and jumps on my leg to kiss me.
I could just almost get the felling from the touch of his nails, scratching me, at blazing
speed.

I could taste a smell that came from my kitchen.
As I smelled it, I knew that it was going to be the only good part of the day.

After that I went to my room, slammed the door, and grabbed my iPod, because nothing
was stopping me from getting off the drum kit.
Right as I started playing, I felt like king of the world. Then later, my sticks felt wobbly
And it went out of control, until I see a piece of wood fly in the air.

As I hold a funeral for my drumstick, I toss it into a trash can remembering my memories
with it, and then my body went insane.
My mind was furious. I was yelling at a blistering level. Enough to destroy a man's ears.
And once I'm finished
I go back on the drums

 


HONORABLE MENTION: "Wings" by Jadah Keith

My Wings give me,
Power,
Strength,
And freedom
They tell me
How without them
I would be on the ground
I Agree
And
I Know
That my Wings
Are my Key
To the lock on the Future,
Past,
And Present
Then I Think
How my Wings
Propel Me

Off the dirty, mucky,

Twisted,
Surface
We call Reality
And they Take me
To a Place where I Dream
About my Wings

 


 

HONORABLE MENTION: "Rebel" by Julia Ibsen

A grip tight as death,
A touch cold as ice.
Words sharp as daggers,
And my heart is pierced.
The screams echo in my head
As a painful tape.
Replay, replay, replay,
Until I am the message of hate.
I am the nuisance in a crystal world.
I am the one to blame.
Eerie as an empty casket,
I am loomed over.
Watched with a careful eye.
Struck with a sharpened claw.
But now my heart throbs with anger.
My veins pump in fury.
My blood pours with more purpose than ever.
No, I will not run.
I will fight.
A prisoner on the surface,
A warrior beneath.
My true colors will fly,
And I will survive as a rebel.


 

 
HONORABLE MENTION: "Invisible" by Caitlin Ward

I stand, waiting, wondering, how long it will take to be seen.
I stand, invisible to my surroundings, unnoticed, overlooked, disregarded
I stand, blended with all hues, dark & light, black & white
I stand, unobserved by the connote people, unseen by the insolent people.
How long will it take to be seen?


 

 

 HONORABLE MENTION: "Pirates Dream Too" by Alexandra Sapiega

Sand sifting through an hourglass symbolizes the true wealth of a
pirate.
Dangers preyed.
Not many possessed,
What others had.
If there was a chance of survival.
They would be hooked on the lure of treasure.
Were the filthy quarters and rats worth the wait?
Food was scarce.
Plantains, pineapples and papayas,
Were said to be all worth it.
Leather, gunpowder and the same dull routine.
Was life for a one of a kind
pirate.
Weathering dangerous storms.
Not knowing what is yet to come.
Amusement of all.

Carved, danced and sang.
Life at sea,
You need stamina, dexterity, and guts.
Taking in the gentle lullaby of the waves.
Wages were low.
Risking their lives.
For the one's they love.
Beyond their wildest dreams.
To be rich.
To lure many to turn to pirates.
When they smuggled they were cursed with disease.
Life of a pirate.
Only a small number lived their dreams.
Trickery till the end.


HONORABLE MENTION: "There's a Zombie on Your Lawn" by John Hattas

I was upstairs doing chores,
When I heard zombies at the door
Grab my AK and C4
And go down to the bottom floor.
Open the door and shoot some,
Boy those zombies sure are dumb.
The zombies come in many waves
I send them back to their old graves.
Zombies coming back again,

There are too many of them.

I'm overwhelmed, there's nowhere to go.
I get some space and then I throw,
One of my packs of C4
Then I run and open the door

After that I go inside
Where I am safe and I can hide
I detonate the C4 pack
All the zombies should stay back
I go back upstairs to do some more,
Of those boring, dreadful chores.