Teen Poetry Contest

Presented by

Upper Dublin Public Library

Sandy Run Middle School Library

Upper Dublin High School Library

Winners

Middle School Category

1st Place

Dear Everyone Who Asked, I’ll Tell You Why I Said “Never Mind” by Kirsten Weiss

2nd Place

Safety Pin by Kayleigh Park

3rd Place

Her Purple Scarf

by Alba Thomollari

Honorable Mention

brown girl by Lizmeiry Inoa

Anxiety by Bree H.

Summer at Avalon by Caitlyn F.

Blanking by Joshua B.

MIDDLE SCHOOL - 1st PLACE

Dear Everyone Who Asked, I’ll Tell You Why I Said “Never Mind”

by Kirsten Weiss

MIDDLE SCHOOL - 2nd PLACE

Safety Pin by Kayleigh Park

My mind will need a safety pin

Because it holds broken parts together

My heart should get some thread

Cause that can make pieces whole

My soul perhaps may need to find a lighter

Cause that's what starts a spark

My eyes could use some super glue

Cause that's what seals things shut

My voice might need some tape

So it can stop being heard

Maybe just maybe,

My mind doesn’t need a safety pin

the broken parts could be free

My heart doesn’t need the thread

The pieces could explore

My soul doesn’t need a lighter

It can learn how to start a spark

My eyes don’t need superglue

I can let them roam free

My voice doesn’t need Tape

I can let it be heard

Maybe just Maybe

Today will be the day

Maybe just maybe

I can be perfect

As Me.

MIDDLE SCHOOL - 3rd PLACE

Her Purple Scarf by Alba Thomollari

A European sun kisses her skin

she’s merely a child but she wanders the decaying streets of her modest village,

her hands-free of another’s

An itchy purple scarf hugs her neck, when unraveled it reaches beyond her knees,

The love she has for her home country grows deep into her heart

She doesn’t have much, yet she won’t realize this till many sunrises from now

Her scarf, now littered with time has now shrunk, or perhaps she’s grown taller.

Her village is a ghost town, haunted by consciousness

As she’ll realize, that once you’re born in this land, she’ll be buried in its ground

Forever shackled to a corrupt government

Her DNA sown with poverty, her soul shall remain imprisoned,

A vessel for the government to control at a whim, to take whatever they please

Rendering her poor and alone

She’ll fantasize about an impossible reality, in which the sun that dawns upon her skin, is not owned by a dictator

Her purple worn scarf sits on her shoulders

She’s now no longer a wandering mind, but responsible for grounding them to earth

She’ll feed her students with hopes and beliefs, that she herself will never achieve

Her small home is adorned with joy, as it's the one thing that's not costly

Inside her home lives a man, whom she didn’t choose yet her heart will still beat for

Born from this man-made bond, are two children.

She’ll try to shield them from the curse of knowing,

Although the plague has already settled in their minds, only growing by the minute,

She’s managed to flee, away from the land of prisoners and into the land of the free

But she doesn’t feel free, she sees the way people's expressions change when she reveals her native tongue, not even trying to mask

Her scarf is tattered and engraved with tears

Her dining table sits four, yet only three chairs occupied

The fourth chair sat her son, ripped away from her and deported away.

The government tore off a piece of her heart and left her to bleed out, defenseless.

She’ll work in a factory, where she meets others who share her story, together they weep in the arms of another

Her bones are brittle yet her mind is steady.

Her body coated in scars, never entirely healed

Across sits her granddaughter

Who won’t know what it’s like to see a country crumble, or to leave your loved ones behind

Yet her granddaughter sees the hate America gifts to immigrants, the way people wear a look of disgust when her parents reveal their accent and imperfect English.

her shoulders are weak, tired of carrying the burden of the purple scarf.

And so she’ll hand the scarf to her granddaughter, allowing her granddaughter to share her story

All without being chained to the phrase, “I don’t speak English”

MIDDLE SCHOOL - Honorable Mention

Brown Girl by Lizmeiry Inoa

You a brown girl

You are a queen as so it seems

But they make it seem as if you were undercover

They trick you, they scam you, but you are true

I know it makes you blue

They take your ideas, they take your mind

They make it seem as if you were blind

You take my culture as if it were yours

And I'm the one who starts the wars?

You make fun of my thick curly hair, but you love to stare

We are brown girls we hold are head up high, towards the skies

If we don’t, if we won’t

If we stop winning these wars, if we stop making scores

We will be stuck in this world

A world Where they make fun of our curls

Where they make fun of us brown girls

You fear them not thinking you are true

But pretty little brown girl they are jealous of you

So brown girl with her silky curly hair

Hold that head up all the way to the skies

Because you are a queen in mine and so many eyes

MIDDLE SCHOOL - Honorable Mention

Anxiety by Bree H.

A mental condition from excessive worry

about real or percieved threat

Causes increases heart rate, muscle

Tension and other ticks.

As in: It's very common

But not talked about and

Often people dont know that

They have anxiety

As in: having it means that

Its hard to sit still and not pick at

your fingers to not shake your legs

or fidget with everything

As in: I look around the room

Wondering why no one else is shaking

Or writing fast and tapping their foot

Or breathing heavier and faster when

they feel overwhelmed

MIDDLE SCHOOL - Honorable Mention

Summer at Avalon by Caitlyn F.

Mom, since you asked me why I love summer, I'll tell you

Because of warm sand

Because of tan skin

Because of lighter, curlier hair

Because of the small beach house

that everyone seems to fit in

Because the cool water flows in and out in a rhythmic pattern

Because of late-night bike rides

Because the waves woosh as they crash down in the morning

They are as clear as glass

While the salty air flows fast

Because of blasting The Lumineers as loud as we can

Because of no stress

Because of freckles

and sunburnt faces

Because of boat rides

Because of the painfully beautiful sunsets that will last lifetimes

Because of week long sleepovers

Because of family and friends

Because of ice cream

after a hot day

Because feeling free

Is the best feeling ever

MIDDLE SCHOOL - Honorable Mention

Blanking by Joshua B.

Life is

Ugh, out of Ideas.

Our brains have been forced

back into a box

and we are told to think outside of it.

We were kids with endless imagination.

Nothing without

Useless.

I start anew.

Where has it gone, this imagination?

This spark, this lightbulb,

This odd activity of creativity.

A slight sense of

Again pointless.

The neurons

Can’t make connections

like they used to.

Youth fails to fuel

My lack of an idea.

Imagination

Futile.

I’d sit for hours,

pencil in hand filling papers

with whatever my heart and mind pleased.

It’s not that simple anymore.

All works have to be beautiful, and

Imaginative, and thought out.

I miss days when

I created what I want on that paper…

Whatever I imagined.

Winners

High School Category

1st Place

winter’s spring by Molly Kivlehan

2nd Place

human being by Samantha L.

3rd Place

I Don’t Want to Bite by Felix Lopes

Honorable Mention

Threads by Finn Anderson

eroded by Brynleigh Duffy

HIGH SCHOOL - 1st PLACE

winter’s spring by Molly Kivlehan

winter’s spring is february—

forty two degrees and sunny,

when the light is nearing golden

and has fended off the clouds.

i want to embody winter’s spring—

for it to infiltrate my lungs,

knit into my flesh

and fill my body cavity.

winter’s spring is confidence—

not shouting and bolstering,

overt and exuberant,

but a calm, cool, collected

faith.

the conviction to breathe;

to let the dust settle

and the water simmer gently.

i want to sink into winter’s spring—

for it to wrap me in its arms,

melt into my soul,

and sing into my words.

winter’s spring is you and i, talking—

you and i realizing that our tears are shared;

that we want rescue from the same monster.

winter’s spring is walking into the daylight

after you’ve made me feel okay,

and my association of everything good

with what is forty two degrees

and sunny.

HIGH SCHOOL - 2nd PLACE

human being by Samantha L.

Take a break

Take a breath

Look around

Hear the sounds

Of the world

As it spins

As it is

Let the air

Blow your hair

Watch the rain

Watch it pour

Hear it knock

On your door

Shine a smile

Then just say

“Won’t you stay

For a while?”

Make some tea

One for you

One for me

Instead of do

Let’s just be

HIGH SCHOOL - 3rd PLACE

I Don’t Want To Bite by Felix Lopes

There is something so aggressive in the matter of how I do things

Something that could be considered animalistic

I border the lines of a stray dog alone in the woods and that of one that has been domesticated

Yet still abandoned on the side of the road

It’s a strange sort of thing

Something that is loved out of pity and a tinge of curiosity

Rather than being loved because it is simply impossible not to

It’s a hard thing to love

A hard thing to look past

Especially when your fur is matted and your blood has turned sour

I have been chasing my own tail for years

But when I finally caught it and bit down

That wave of hunger turned into nausea. My appetite has been ruined

Even I cannot stand my own taste

No other would bear it either

The truth hangs over me with blood dripping from my mouth

The dog is rotting

I am rotting

The spit that used to reside in my mouth has turned into metallic foam

Slightly dribbling down my chin as I talk

It is a sign of violence

I do not want to be violent anymore

I wish not to bite down, not on myself, not on others

I want to be clean

With fur made of silk

Teeth a bright white instead of a disgusting yellow

And blood that tastes like red wine

I can be gentle

Let me prove that I can be gentle

I promise I won’t bite

HIGH SCHOOL - HONORABLE MENTION

Threads by Finn Anderson

You tug the threads of my sweater

All the way to the coasts of Monte Carlo

So you may gamble away all that you have taken

And puff the ash from your Marlboro

While I sit here on war-torn floorboards

Littered with organza ribbons and empty spools

A home in practice- turned atelier

As I try to patch the gaps you have made in this polyester thing that knows no

home nor rule

Its sleeves aren’t Dior and the collar is no Versace

Not hemmed, not knit, not cashmere nor straight

Sweater is a strong word indeed

But a sweater’s what you bought and that's all I got with a heart in an ungodly

state

It is an endless cycle

You pull

I fix

Our threads stretch endlessly across desert sands and oceans full

But I await the moment you cease to yank for a second or two

So then I may finally lay down my needles and use

My scissors

To cut you loose.

HIGH SCHOOL - HONORABLE MENTION

eroded by Brynleigh Duffy

ekphrastic poem - sculpture by daniel arsham

hollow

pristine skin split open to reveal

layers of stone beneath the surface

splintering porcelain lungs

am i still beautiful now?

once the shards take root

the illusion of life is cracked

they’ll all know—

she was never graced by blood

will they still love me when i have nothing left to say?

Teen Poetry Contest