presented by Howard County Library System sponsored by Friends of Howard County Library wri t e! now poetry contest

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1 presented by Howard County Library System sponsored by Friends of Howard County Library wri t e! poetry contest now winning poems 2013

2 table of contents Category 1: Grades 6-7 Skittered by Caleb Bauman 1 Blind by Sam Nitkin 3 Japanese internment by Amber Hamby-Caruso 5 Badge by Sarah Bridges 6 The Golden Beast by Nathan Daly 8 Category 2: Grades 8-9 Blank by Camila Rodriguez 9 Lost by Elizabeth Kolb 11 Lime Light by Robert Foyles 12 The Four Elements by Justice Lanclos 13 Category 3: Grades Debate by Evan Spotte-Smith 15 For Faulkner by Caroline Yang 16 Crabs by Mallory Smith 17 my beloved is giving me names by Kaijaii Gomez Wick 18 Sweater, Brown and Green by Elena Kalodner-Martin 19 Keys of the Past by Shreya Nalubola 21

3 First Place, 6th-7th Grade Group Caleb Bauman Grade 6, Granite Classical Tutorials Skittered Hovering, A glossy mist, Sits, and waits. Brown. Senses tingle as smells reach. Muscles tense. An arrow notched for attack, Slits peer. Creeps forward, Moving in time. Flowing, waving. A solid liquid. Slinking, sliding, Pelt bristles. Gears turn, Locked in place. Release, Spring! It soars. Meteorite, Flaming through the night, Pushing aside stars on its way. Closer, closer. Closing in, Skimming the surface, Of precious life. Eyes widen. 1

4 Side to side. Rushing, Bouncing. Flying, rocketing, Skipping like stones, Swirling over a basin of liquid glass. A blur. The world, Skittered. It Escapes. 2

5 Second Place, 6th-7th Grade Group Sam Nitkin Grade 7, Patapsco Middle School Blind Wherever I look, Darkness, wherever I peek Blind, I cannot see They are so hopeful Seeing is overrated. Or so they say. I looked at the sun My parents told me not to I should have listened. There is not a cure However my parents cry I am stuck like this I can still do things People think I can t even walk I show them for sure I do not have friends They think I am a weirdo Sometimes they are right I do not like school The teacher treats me different It makes kids notice The boys sometimes laugh The girls give me sympathy They still stay away 3

6 I sit around here I can t even read a book That s a luxury I have tried braille too It does not feel right to me How cruel can life be? I rely on sound I don t take it for granted It is not enough. 4

7 Third Place, 6th-7th Grade Group Amber Hamby-Caruso Grade 7, Lime Kiln Middle School Japanese internment Don t forget They were sent away They stayed at a camp Manzanar They were sent away Only could bring what they could carry Manzanar There wasn t much Only could bring what they could carry Public, open rooms There wasn t much Fenced in locked gates Public, open rooms They stayed at a camp Fenced in, locked gates Don t forget 5

8 Honorable Mention, 6th-7th Grade Group Sarah Bridges Grade 7, Lime Kiln Middle School Badge I wear a badge upon my chest, Sewn tightly to my shirt. It symbolizes me as a part Of the group I support. I used to wear my badge proudly, But now I m hung with shame. For I m starting To question motives, In this pitiful game. My uniform says one thing, My heart, Another. But I can t change to Brother turning on brother If this is where my crowd lies, Yet why not my heart? I pledge to these hours, But I feel no guilt When we re apart. 6

9 7 My peers swallow words, Binding them with soul. But from this all I get is, In my throat, A lump of coal. Yet, With no where else to go, With no fighting word to say, I shall indeed, Wear my badge Another day.

10 Honorable Mention, 6th-7th Grade Group Nathan Daly Grade 7, Granite Classical Tutorials The Golden Beast Dancing and devouring, Leaping on a tree, Greed ly eating all I m touching, Wild, strong, and free. Blooming in the forest, Tiny golden flow r Climbing up to highest treetop, Filled with endless pow r. Roaring like a lion, Golden as it s mane Black cloak swirling out behind me, Every creature s bane. None can stop my rampage, Hearts are filled with fear, Men may sometimes tame and calm me, Feed me water clear. Know now what my name is, Know your en my dire, Know your friend through winters bitter, Know my name is Fire. 8

11 First Place, 8th-9th Grade Group Camila Rodriguez Grade 9, Long Reach High School Blank thoughts dry up in the oasis of imagination the last part of my mind left unspoiled by schoolwork and logic it s a nice little place where i have a little hammock tied up between two palm trees the water rushing, still like liquid glass origami cranes circling in the neon sun but i am a blank page, a glaring white screen with a little black line blinking on and off impatiently waiting for the greatest poem ever to be written. better luck with thousand apes on typewriters my brain is suspended in time, my switch stuck in airplane mode but i d do anything to get my head back in the clouds down the rabbit hole, through the magical wardrobe, in a technicolor whirlwind 9

12 to the land where i never grew old, soaring through the clouds with a pair of golden winged sandals and i could live life as a queen or a princess or mermaid without any worries except the bad guys and their cartoon henchmen but i m still a blank page, my mind pulled in a thousand different directions until it just snaps i pace the room i listen to music i take a long walk as the sun sets and the man in the moon brushes the sky with purples and blues, i steal away into the night, i let the stars guide me to the next level. 10

13 Second Place, 8th-9th Grade Group Elizabeth Kolb Grade 9, Mount de Sales Academy Lost The chains, despair and misery, are locked And bind my heart till all I see is black Emotions rise: encounter walls, are blocked I turn around but I cannot go back The voices in my head confuse my thoughts I feel so numb but I remember pain The silver spiderwebs have cut and caught Myself until I cannot move again Oh why did I not run while I still could? Now I have stolen mem ries in my mind And places I remember full of blood If I could tell myself not to be blind! Would I have changed decisions so I die? Or would my heart, unchanged, still yearn to cry? 11

14 Third Place, 8th-9th Grade Group Robert Foyles Grade 8, Patapsco Middle School Lime Light Fame is a kidnapper Taking others souls Turning saints to sinners Perhaps the carpet is red from the blood Of people torn by the wolves of the paparazzi 12

15 Honorable Mention, 8th-9th Grade Group Justice Lanclos Grade 9, Reservoir High School The Four Elements Suddenly I awoke I was burning hot Feeling my forehead as I sat up I gasped at the sight My precious dark chocolate eyes I loved are now a fiery red My hands, my fingers, were surrounded by flames But they did not burn me On me was a red dress with frayed edges like rigid flames I drew a heart made out of flames before standing back in amazement But then, I realized There was no mirror to see myself in I looked next to me to find my best friend who held the answer She was now water Drenched as if she had just rose out of the ocean She wore a blue, flowing dress that flowed like the waves Her hazel eyes replaced by opaque blue ones She looked at me, then her wet arms in surprise I then watched her draw a heart as well, the lines smooth and calm Past her was wind Her dress was a dusty brown, but when she moved it almost appeared clear She pushed her arms out and watched the dust of wind that formed Before placing her hand to her lips and blowing a gentle wind 13

16 She giggled as she closed her dusty brown eyes Beside her was a girl in a earthy green dress Covered from head to toe in flowers, it was earth When she held out her hands, flowers suddenly appeared Her previous dark chocolate eyes, now emerald, drooped like sad tears But as her hands dropped, the ground began to shake As she realized what she had caused and moved her hands up A devilish, but sweet smile formed on her face We all came together with a smile and a giggle As we became one 14

17 First Place, 10th-12th Grade Group Evan Spotte-Smith Grade 10, Long Reach High School Debate Point and counterpoint, An ebb and flow of informatics, Like the fluid tide, First launching itself onto the once-dry sand, then forced, supportless, Back from whence it came. Argument and support, Building grand sculptures atop the beach, a Sistine Chapel Embellished with divine statistics, An idea given breath of life, A delicate fortress. Rebuttal and questioning, Waves crashing back upon the beach, As in a tempest, Belittling the labors performed, Exploiting crack and gap Between the ideal sands. Conclusion and summary, A flustered attempt to rebuild what is lost, A crying child, His hard work now washed into sea, A hurried fight against time and tide To prove the sea is weak. 15

18 Second Place, 10th-12th Grade Group Caroline Yang Grade 11, Long Reach High School For Faulkner At the end of the world when sardines lie helterskelter in our own beds and all the Clearasil flows from our gaping Pores and when the iron ore rises, gawking, from the seawhen everything else, silent, holds its milky breathwhen phonemes dissipate timid and unsaid from the tips of inert tongues-your Ornery muscular diction will still be reverberating, indignant, in the earth, under jimsonweed and deflated kickballs, under steles and tombs, heavy with the odor of kings. 16

19 Third Place, 10th-12th Grade Group Mallory Smith Grade 11, Howard High School Crabs On the hour I pull the trap up to check the contents of the basket. There is nothing at breakfast, the after breakfast muck romp the after romp shower, after shower swimming lesson, sailing lesson, etiquette lesson, lesson on plaid linens, or the plaiting of my hair. I run sockfoot out to the dock. A Holly bramble nicks me in the second smallest toe. Walker says I cry too much, so instead I bite down on my thumb and hope Grandmother will not see me and think I am sucking on it. Girls like me do not suck their thumbs. The floating platform is asking me to come play mermaid on the rock, but I have a mission. It is low tide. I am low to the water. One hand over, one hand under, I pull the rope. Over, under, over, under until the wire cage slices the brackish water and my palms blister. The chicken neck rot peppers the salt air as the trap comes up; inside are four angry, scuttling bodies. I learn how to crack crabs before I learn my scales on the piano. I know Walker will pinch me again; I ll cry because I do not have blue claws to fight back. 17

20 Honorable Mention, 10th-12th Grade Group Kaijaii Gomez Wick Grade 12, Howard High School my beloved is giving me names the incantation to summon me is the one with the iron teeth, the asleep audience member, augustavoider, the delighted in winter, the one with eleganty painted claws, cannibal smiler, accidental split-tongue, law of conservation of social life, the one that converses with machetes, lover of that which is poison, the one that cuts bloodhounds into ribbons, preacher with a silent voice, prophet of piss-poor grammar, outcast from outcasts and now the names without warning are coming and coming and unlike locusts my beloved s chanted names for me will not strip me dead only bare only naked but not quite flayed 18

21 Honorable Mention, 10th-12th Grade Group Elena Kalodner-Martin Grade 12, Oakland Mills High School Sweater, Brown and Green Mama was running low on money I didn t get any new jeans for school this year I didn t get anything new, period. Mama sighed, Stop being such a pill, Grabbed the car keys, and drove away. She came back with a big sweater Brown and green Like the Earth. I frowned. Old and ugly, I thought. This sweater s got a history, Mama said. A girl wore this sweater to play in the snow with her boyfriend, I said. The snow clung to it, white and powdery. Smell it, Mama, I begged. You can smell the snow. She held it up and smelled it. Smells like Phoenix. We live in Phoenix, hot and still. I haven t seen snow in all my life. 19

22 A man wore this sweater when he got laid off. He packed up his things, and the cuff snagged on the latch of the door, Just like it was saying, don t go. He had brown eyes and blonde hair, just like Dad did in the dusty picture on Mama s table Was this Dad s? Don t be silly, dear. Dad died before I was born, freak car accident. Freak growing up without a father. The sweater was a lucky charm for a girl who got into her first choice } college. A boy beat cancer in it. It was given away by someone who had gotten it as a present from her ex, And when he left her, she gave that sweater away too. It was a pillow for a homeless man, All $3.15 of it, balled up, because it was softer than concrete. I told Mama what I thought. Maybe none of those. Maybe all of them. This sweater s got a history. I pulled it on Brown and green Like the Earth Like all the places it had been. 20

23 Honorable Mention, 10th-12th Grade Group Shreya Nalubola Grade 10, Centennial High School Keys of the Past I suppose I have seen My aunt, with her earthen eyes and searching stare Gaze at the room with A look of deep reminiscence. One day, I saw her walk Slowly, with a determined stride, to the dusty piano Its keys out of tune The lackluster black frame far from perfect, No longer holding that new, shimmering reflection. She sat down, on the dampened bench Which creaked on fragile legs And, with slender hands, Laden with calloused finger tips, She softly belted the melody of a thousand-and-one words Closing her eyes, she subconsciously tapped sounds Of creamed-coffee skin on cold keys Movements so practiced, yet natural She was a little girl Sifting through ancient toys, Flinging memories across bridges between time and space 21 With a young, bubbly face and soft hair pleated with bows She trembled as she tiptoed onto the stage, Averting her eyes as she bowed to the crowd under blinding white-hot lights. You can do it, her teacher mouthed Forcing a reassuring smile, a cajoling nod As she sat, poised, in the front row of red velvet chairs So vividly elegant

24 The little girl at the piano moved with music that day Felt reverberating notes course through her veins and in her blood Rich tones erupted from smooth skin on small hands Soft, then loud, then soft again Every key the door to a new path in the maze A new answer to an overwhelmingly beautiful riddle. My aunt finally opens her eyes, and notices her fingers Wrinkled and bony The grasping vines that twist round an intricate sonata Now resting, exhausted, on keys of dulled ivory. Never stop playing, her teacher had said, with tears brimming the widest eyes. 22

25 Many Thanks Howard County Library System extends its appreciation to Friends of Howard County Library for supporting this contest that allow students an opportunity to express their creativity. Judges Patricia Van Amburg: professor of English and creative writing at Howard Community College and editor of the Muse Magazine Sally Rosen Kindred: poet, author, and winner of the Anabiosis Press Chapbook Prize, among others Pantea Tofangchi: artist, poet, and adjunct faculty at the University of Baltimore From HCLS staff: Kristen Blount, Katie George, Deborah Bosilovich, Courtney Gardinier, Maggie Smith, Joanne Sobieck- Lingg, and Aimee Zuccarini: Howard County Library staff John Rives The Write! Now celebration welcomes National Poetry Slam Champion John Rives, who is a storyteller from Los Angeles and a frequent contributor to TED.com. Library staff For the contribution of their time in making the Write! Now poetry contest and celebration successful.

26 hclibrary.org Howard County Library Administrative Offices 6600 Cradlerock Way Columbia, MD 21045