Teen Poetry Contest 2021

Love is horrible You will never hear me say that It will all be ok In the end Because I know Love is a lie You can’t convince me that love is worth the risk Because I realized that A life of love makes you miserable Never say that You aren’t confined by someone’s thoughts of you &nbsp;Deep down we all know that Others words are our definition I have been told That love is incredible But I am determined to say Love is built off jealousy Some will speak that It will only get worse, With time So don’t tell me Love is a beautiful thing

(You can read this poem from bottom to top as well.)

It started when I traded my jade pendant For a too-tight shell necklace that reeked Of plastic and rubber and Jersey shores, Filled with white heads that laughed at white children, Blonde and beautiful and normal, bouncing in the waves; Turning from the family of dark hair and broken English, Whose second-hand umbrella would get blown away in the wind. There were also the gold chains, a parting gift On the necks of fleeing children, given by grandparents Whose jewelry is more tangible than their hands, More tangible than their tongue. Their chains are smelted with pride, A remnant of the East for a home in the West, tying us down With a beg for remembrance, a reminder for us To sail our steel-cut dollars in the current, An obligation more precious than gold. Yet now, we hope the chains Can repair our severed connection, Sun set here and sun rise there When we ask each other: Were you sleeping? Nǐ zài shuìjiào ma? Did I wake you? Wǒ jiào xǐng nǐle ma? All of which evolves into: Do you remember me? Nǐ hái jì dé wǒ ma? Perhaps the jewelry was my grandparents’ way Of asking their children to stay, while urging them to leave, Because what are parents compared to acceptance In a country that replaces the yellow stars with white ones, A country that will only ever love the American-born girl, Once she leaves her jade In the sea between homelands.

If Only SHE Knew: How to Stop a Starting Rumor

I stopped. I winced. I scoffed. I glared. I glared at my only comrades, turned unloyal. Speaking my secret and smearing my pride. I glance over to Oliver, face sprinkled with red. Then, I faced the people in front of me. So-called friends, kindled by chemistry though burnt in a mixed reaction of jealousy, fracturing the once stable beaker. But this just broke it. As I looked at the smirks and gleed smiles of my adversaries. I stand grounded still, calmer than before, but mad nonetheless. The leader of this judgment parade, a series of 4 girls - kept chanting the same original, but unimpressive, phrase. As I watched my mouth, ‘cause they’re not watching theirs, I broke down my situation and came up with 3 possible opinions:

Two that would keep me on my toes. And one which would be useless, except, in a quiet secluded area in the back of the halls.

But, that’s not ideal, indicated by the blocks of children pushing together, simulating something as strong as a wall. 3 decisions, each would work - theoretically - and 5 seconds, now 3, to speak a counterargument.

So, I said the first one I could think of, neither. “I like Oliva."&nbsp; I heard a pin drop 10 feet from me. Kids looked at me, eyes wide and confused - like they were expecting another answer. The leader of the array stood there, processing word by word from what I just confessed. Oliva’s glasses crossed on her face as she tried to hold the blush in. Oliver stood dumbfounded, skin now pale, from seeing his sister have someone proclaim their love to her by the person who he thought fell for him. “BLASPHEMY! LIAR!” she shouted, her bulging eyes hotter than a white sun. Hold it, as much as what I said was quick and surprising... I am NOT a liar. Not to keep certain information or to sound right! I do like Oliver and Olivia - I just didn’t tell her that. I’m quick on my feet. I talk after thinking one-tenth of a second. I continue, not caring about the consequences. Not caring what mom would think. Don’t care what dad will say. All I know is I successfully stopped a rumor.

I am not here to entertain you No joy will come from this poem What I write to you dear reader Will erk and chill you so. I do not write from warmth But deathly cold instead I do not wish to comfort you, yet One may confront me in the end I feed on you when you are wrong And fix you when you're right I care not for emotion It blinds my blissful blight I feast on your emptiness For I enjoy your torment And I jump when I see you still For that tells me I have won

As I take your joy away I watch your heart run low I drink the fuel that one supplied you Your happiness I close My job is done, your soul is wasted Yet my stomach is full And as you lay as lifeless flesh Your blood and bone are mine Why do I act this way you ask? For one may think it's cruel But I do not possess your petty morals Depression works alone

Marble

Lindsay Cummings Head of Adult &amp; YA Services Upper Dublin Library Jessica Richmond Children's Services Librarian Upper Dublin Library Samantha Connelly School Library Media Specialist Sandy Run Middle School MaryJane Lyons Librarian &amp; Media Specialist Upper Dublin High School

1st PLACE - "Be A Woman They Say" by Aejaie Ray . . . . . . . 2nd PLACE - "Little mind" by Ashly R. I. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3rd PLACE - "If Only SHE Knew: How to Stop a Starting Rumor" by Tylar G. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1st PLACE - "Teenagers" by Orin Dalgarno-Platt . . . . . . . . . . 2nd PLACE - "How Do I Say Necklace in Mandarin?" by Hannah Gong . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3rd PLACE - "Love Goes Both Ways" by Bryn Malizia . . . . . .

"One Last Word" by Noella Carlo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Utopia Ideals" by Emmanuelle K. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "The People" by Kaya S. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

" " by Luke Baron . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Ends of The Universe" by Liz Zheng . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Dawn Comes" by Grace Noh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They ask you questions about life They wonder if their life even matters They ponder whether moving forward is really worth it Don’t worry, it’s just a rebellious phase

They ask you questions about life They wonder if their life even matters They ponder whether moving forward is really worth it Don’t worry, it’s just a rebellious phase They bury their pain so you can't see it They hide their scars so that you don’t worry They stay breathing so that you remain happy Don’t worry, it’s just them being moody They wonder if you know the real them They wonder if you would like the real them They are scared that they don’t even know themselves Don’t worry, it’s all a part of growing up They feel more fake everyday They know their identity is a construct They want you to do something about it Don’t worry, it’s just high school They know it went wrong somewhere They know there was a transition They know they weren’t always like this Don’t worry, it’s all natural We know our own issues We know our own pain We just need some help in understanding it ... But don’t worry, they’re just being teenagers

They tore our families apart They broke down our doors They burned our synagogues to a charred skeleton They took our fathers, mothers, and children They made us work to our death, while all along thinking how to make us all die quicker. They murdered us, they torched us, they hated us Only because we are different I stand my ground and shout to the sky So what that I am different, So what that that I have a different life, I am proud to be a Jew I am proud NOW, I am proud in the FUTURE, and I am proud for my people in the past They had courage and hope and dreams even in a time of war They never let the horrors affect how they saw the world They always held on to their hope and courage even when it seemed that they would die They would never let the horrors live as long as they were alive

They fought till their dying breath and their families fought longer They never let the sins of the Nazis affect how they saw each other For everyone new deep deep down, that sure they all were different, sure they all had their beliefs, but what really matters is that we are all people under the sun We are ALL people who deserve a life We All have our families and friends We All need each other in the end So why do you fight Why do you not see That when we kill, It does not make you stronger It makes you feared and hated It makes you hurt deep down for you know that somewhere in the world that person had a family that loved him dearly Those people’s lives that you stole were people that deserve a life as much as you or me No one deserves that fate and You all know it

Dawn follows night with mind muddled, sleep in her hair, pouring light into a cereal bowl. We unbraid her knotted head, pull a radiant gown over toothpick arms, and demand her scowling face to smile. Go shine on America, we say, and strip this beast, the darkness away. Let your morning rays climb like vines and kill the night with a blazing sword. Enter into the hearts of man and warm their cold, vicious shade. Dazzle us, fill the world, blind us with your brilliant blade.

But Dawn crawls over the rim of the sky in clothes much too large for her, and sprinkles song into starving mouths and lightly scampers by. She nudges the shadows with a foot touches a few hearts into bloom, and laughs with the little boy who plays at her boot. As night nears again, Dawn folds herself into a few good spirits, sowing her seeds of hope. They walk among us like paper lanterns, or stubborn stars; and the few lights flood the world, prying night's hand from earth's throat. And though night always comes, Dawn is scattered upon its cloak, burning holes in his hood, and one day it will shrink to dust.

I never thought this day could come. Earlier, she jumped. Before that, she looked out at the world and took a breath. She thought, “Remember when we were kids and would dance in the rain. Now we just wait for it to stop.” Prior to that, She stood at the top of the canyon looking at all of the beautiful red rocks and shapes they created. She felt the air, flowing through her hair and the smell of the canyon. In preparation, she wrote letters to everyone, telling them about how much she would miss them. Previously, she just stood there and would think. She stayed up late looking out the window into the dark and seeing the tree branches sway. Ages ago, she would volunteer at the animal shelter and loved it but some of the dogs would, “Jump up and scratch her.” Before, she heard people asking, “Why does she always have to be so difficult?” Earlier she could never do things anymore because she didn’t have the strength to do anything. Then, smiling became tiring.

Prior, she would fake a smile or a skip or a jump. At that instant, they took something from her that she could never replace.&nbsp; Then, one time she didn’t. Up until now, it was like she was a soldier. Then, she stood up. Before she would trip and she would fall. In the good times, she had a sparkle that could not be replaced. Earlier, she worked as hard as she could and never wanted to disappoint. Before that, she was always so happy and cheerful.

I dispersed your smile to the ends of the universe. Swept you away into the intoxicating swirl of memory. Now I feel only you in rhythm, an insatiable ache, a heart that bleeds but beats all damn day.

I dispersed your smile to the ends of the universe. Swept you away into the intoxicating swirl of memory. Now I feel only you in rhythm, an insatiable ache, a heart that bleeds but beats all damn day. My temperament turns and burns like the coal, then yearns to be doused in the universe’s cold. Then it bursts like the stars, then hurts like the thorn - a betrayal of love's ferocity burns. Just a look inside my somniferous eyes, you’ll answer the question that you ask of why. Raw cheeks cry and cracked lips groan, can the heavens hear what it's like to be alone? I find that my forays into madness aren’t short lived stays. Sanity fades like embers, the heat tucked away. Desperately, guilty, I misplace the flame. Clinging onto mortal promise I hang my head in shame, and mistaking love and lust is just another way to say we long for rain. Long for the fingertips of the sky to press down on our heated exchange, and wash away the pain. 365 days I try in vain; revolution is just another word for rebirth, but the truth is I never really change. Still a speck of dust smeared between emptiness and the spray of the sun's rays I watch the planets align, but pale when held next to your name. I strip away the veil and let my sorrow reclaim, dispersed until the ends of the universe, all ablaze in reckless flame.

THEY SAY THEY SAY THEY SAY Never what I say

You're showing too much skin cover up You're not showing enough skin You're so fat stop eating You're skinny you need to eat more They say Be different from everybody else Don’t stand out Don’t dress casual You're not dressed up enough They say Don’t be sloppy Why are you alway so proper Be the smartest Don’t be a know it all They say Protect yourself Don’t fight it’s not ladylike THEY SAY THEY SAY THEY SAY Never what I say At Least when I stare in the mirror my reflection is crying with me and not laughing at me

WINNERS AND HONORABLE MENTIONS FROM GRADES 9-12

Where the bird calls And people are open about their flaws. When we sit at the table And people have no labels. When they’re honest and kind. This is the ideal utopia of mine. Deep down, we all want to be accepted. And that’s expected. So let’s join together, Forget about our grudges, And be open and have a good time. Life is about color and wonder Reminisce about the good times And respect each other. Utopia isn’t just a dream, but a hope. And when you need to cope with life, Someone will be there to end the strife. For the bird who calls, Let it be known to all. That respect, and learning to accept Are all steps to my utopia.

In April 2021, Upper Dublin Public Library and Upper Dublin School District invited teens to celebrate National Poetry Month with a creative poetry contest.

Upper Dublin teens in grades 6-12 could submit written and slam poetry for a chance to be published and win a prize. These are the winners and honorable mentions.

This contest was presented in partnership by the Upper Dublin Library, Sandy Run Middle School, and Upper Dublin High School.

A child's mind is the strangest thing in the world. I'll never forget the day I lost my mind. The day I realized there is a significant difference between Growing up and relinquishing control I'm still dreaming of all the balloons that fly, and the flowers that bloom in springtime I was carefree, only dancing in the sky as the wind obediently came with Slowly assisting me in my flight Day after day, asking for an ice cream cone in the park every time I heard ice cream truck on his way We used to say, "Boys have cooties." However, things have now changed. Now I we shall care about is the to Achieve the beauty standards that pain I suppose we can be jumbled up in our heads. It's strange to grow up. Yet Letting Go is as well. I'm not going to float, and I'm not going to let go

I'm not going to float, and I'm not going to let go I still dream of balloons while I have my little mind with me. In my little mind's eye, I can still hear the ice cream truck approaching. my little mind, I'll paint and draw. My little mind, I will never forget it all I will have my imperfects but that won’t let me fall Wherever my little mind goes, I will follow along

WINNERS AND HONORABLE MENTIONS FROM GRADES 6-8

Name

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