National

Poetry Month

Spring 2015

Contest Submissi

ons

Deep Blues

Underneath the skinDown below the visible,There was still a small

childBelieving the inadmissible.

A melting pot of descended cultures

Taught myths of insignificance,

Teaches or kings and queens

We know nothing but ignorance.

Royalty is embedded butUnbeknownst like priceless coral,

Created naturally by lifeMolded and corrected by

every moral.Fed with false informationSince the forced arrival,Infinite acts of hatred

Taught mandatory survival.

Our birthplace had it allBeautiful place except

increasing famine,Even servants participated in

ritualsLike Antogo anyone can be

king salmon.Will we all come together to

incinerateThe abyssal hatred with a

tiki torch,Every race falls victim to

racial satireBecause in hate there is no

remorse.Research is essential for

Understanding of ones roots,We are all beautiful, in all

formsIt is vital what we must do:We will learn to find love

within the hate that deemed our

history,So in the middle of your

deep bluesUse the deep fire to extinguish the misery.

The Monarchy of the Red Blooded StrangerMy monarchy is in the reflection

of the living…Sharing life

…Sharing experiencesCan even bring a Royal Fortune

to a strangerthrough The good

The bad…and even the UGLY

It’s in the Red blooded…and even the blue blooded

…Sharing life and sharing experiences

Can build any mind into thinking they are living

In the Lap of Luxury

My Chocolate Therapy

You given energy to deal with the

Pressures of the world. You are my

Pick me up, that’s why I call you

My coffee bean. You a delicacy

For my eye, soft voice toComfort me after a long day ofWork. With your soft touch,

you Are a special to me, a rare

breed, myFrench truffle darling.

You are so cool, yet soSweet, design so beautiful when

I see you sitting on theCounter, you remind me ofA modern mocha, I got from

Starbucks. Baby you ease my Mind from a stressful day

Like dark chocolate that why youAre my chocolate therapy.

My strong, black beautiful queen.

A Diff

erent Shade of Blue

When I say I am inked,It doesn’t refer to the tattoo on my arm

I am inked by the experienceLoving who I am

Inked isn’t what I asked to beBut what I have to be

Especially walking around sailor’s bayListening to what sailors say.

They speak of shade,A different shade of blue

Not the usual teal or denimBut the blue no one notices

Hidden behind the sky and the robin’s egg

The blue that speaks to you, the tidal wave

That says, “I am the last color seen before I take and drown.”

Everyone wants to ride the wave…

What happens when the wave rides back?

I was created to be a force to reckoned with

I can make sure your sailors never make it home

I am that that blue, not that shadeNot the one that you’re used to

Which reminds me of little Brittany Blue

She was blueBut not the blue that you’re used to

And the blue that you’re used to isn’t blue

At least, least of all…At least not the blue for you.

 

Frederick Barnes, Winner 2015 Contest

On the famed shores of CamelotVeiled in the purple mists of the

Mysterious NightThe ethereal sprites dance the

sacred FantasiaWhile protected by Oberon’s

mighty Knighthood

Midnight in the Pansy Garden of Good and EvilThe filtered moon crawling through white lily

clouds

On a lavender sky,

Sparkling on wild Pansy and Canyon Iris

in the Pansy Garden of Good and Evil.

Glazed pears

Wild ginger tea with Beehive honey,

What a beautiful night! 

Our

Ca

mpg

roun

d St

ory

In a camping tent,Near the North American hills,

I sentA messenger of truth

To invite you to join me.

I waited patientlyFor a reply,

But no answer, I sighed.Soon the gray squirrel

outside would laugh.And the forest would turn old.

As I walked our old remembered paths-

The paths we once made from primitive methods,Being young, wild and

rampart-I remember the days we

spent here-collecting sticks to build our tent.

 

Tools and stones,Arrowhead of ancient tribes,

Laughter and joy-This is what my forest hides.

An hour passes by my appearance,A decade,

A decade more,Soon a century-

It became evident you were no more.

I still see you, In the tent, in the hills,

In the tree growth.In the forest bed,In the forest head,

In our camping tent where our youth was spent.

And it is there, that I announce my final bed.

Benjamin McLinRunner Up, 2015 Contest

The Magwitc

h’s Lament

Across the wild and skybourne sea

Where pity has no claimA life transported for a crime

Pure rot among the hulksBobbing in the reeds

Until the murkiness beneathAnd after fog encases

I strain to see the Tower BridgeAnd its scarlet red defensesSun rises: lighting thermal

fissures

Becalmed upon Tasmanian SeaA searing tealish white

More brilliant than the dingy Thames

A copper for that scene

Meaghan, Gerard

Stile

tto

Love

When they look at me they want to know the Juicy Details

How it is, that I do what I doBecause a woman like me

They don’t understandI’m too Pinkadelic for most

But for those who get itThey are richly rewarded by my IntrigueI’m like that pair of heels that goes with

everythingAnd makes your legs look great

Everyone is after my Stiletto Love

Christina Tatum

Dreaming of Aruba Blue for Spring Break

High Dive to thousands of learning objects

Rushing Stream of creation and critical thinking

Striking results are yours to be proud of

Aruba Blue sky and beaches are the reward to enjoy.

 

Chung Lee

I call it P150 lol…

The boys, they love me.

The girls, can’t touch me.

When I, walk past,

They get, whip lash.

Put me, on Bossip,

Cause I’m, hot gossip.

When I sway, my skirt,

Send the flirt, alert.

Want to know, my business,

Should I, prevail,

Sorry, can’t do it

No kiss, and tell.  

Brea Walker

A Fallen SensoryThe eyesWere a shade of Old and, soon to be, Closed cues.

I was the only voice,In the pool,Nearest to your muse.I’m here, My dear, I’m here, have no fear.

And, altogether, there wasNo decay.No dying of the warmth, Which came from the Eyes of your fireplace,

The fireplace glow,I felt it-The presence of truth.I felt it- The last Autumn of our most Enjoyable (Mind soothing) talks.

There was an ending-An ending approaching.Soon.

“the leaves today, areBeautiful. Red, orange andYellow too”-“I know the leaves are Beautiful. Colorful leaves are always,Always a muse. Just like you.”

The last note, the last line,What trickery was the conversation to do?Before Winter,That Autumn, I would understand All too soon.

The trees were brilliant,A many reds, oranges and yellows too.

Standing, there in the center Forest, My love: my most prized jewel!!

The eyes, again, Were a shade of Old and, soon to be, Closed cues.

And it was there,In this Forest, The enchantment would end,And I would retire there on the Forest bed, On the golden forest of paints.

Not even the California Coral treesCould ease this acquired pain.

“Refuge”

It’s that time of year againThat time to make the journey home

To a place where there was once laughter and loveTo a place where my family and I once roamed

That which once was beautiful nationIt was elegant and youthful some say

But now all of its beauty has been shattered, somewhat erased

Under the sky that now bears an asphalt grey

This nation had been burned down so violently; with no remorse

By our enemies who were once called friendsFrom the highest peak of the once infamous iron

mountainTo the grasslands very end

My lungs fill with carbon monoxide every timeAs my close relatives experienced beforeNow all that remains are their cool ashes

My family exists no more

But I will not deter the memoriesThough so little, I welcome them with pride

Because one day I will indeed see them againIn the pure white place above us

But until then, inside me will they forever reside

Just a Reflection

Mom!!Father!!

Wait Where am I?

Hush up little black boyI can’t move my hand or feet

Where are we going?Nobody knows

Just be quiet before they kill you

Oh my Allah!!!The smell

So many bodies dead next to me

Maybe all of this is just a dream

Pinch meIt’s not a dreamIt’s a nightmare

The scream of the little black boySlices through the chilly blue air

John and BobGo get like 40 more of them

savagesWe need to slight the load

Before we dock the shipyard

As I watch some of my people Choose to jump over board

instead of taking their wrathI took a glimpse of the water as my reflections look back at meSo many of my people died in

that infinite deep sea

What is that paper?It looks like some kind of

treasure mapBut the money symbolsAre on our mother land

So that means we are the treasure

It seems like they are taking us to another land

Aww man

Aye boy how did you get that paper?

John hand me the keys and whipWe got us a smart one

What is your name boy?Oh!! He don’t understand

I bet he understands now!!

POW!!! POW!!!

AWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!

I wake up every morning to see the Sun rise.

It looks like a Japanese Koi fishSwimming across the horion.

The world looked more beautiful thanTwo butterflies.

Happy people of the world enjoying theirLives.

Enjoying each otherFroma father to a mother

To a sister to a brotherSmiles as big as a cheerful tangerine,

And as small as a cutie.Never before have I seen so much beauty.Shine as bright as the yellow strips on a

BeeIt shares the same asure sky.

As blue as the clearest of seas.Walking up can make your day as sweet

As a mandarin orange,And as colorful as a lollipop.

Don’t ever let a tear dropBecause you’ll never know if you wake up.

To see that sunrise again.

A G

old

Theo

ry I’d dream to glimmer inGlory,

To be found high and undeniably

Worthy.

I’d love to wear, An established

Crown,One of a country-nationFilled with solid gold,Treasures and sound.

InheritanceNeed not be a cause,

InheritanceNeed not make me pause.

I should have my gold,My solid gold, My Royal

gold.And I should be pleased

With rare steel, Iron works,Ones worthy of my

Iron will.

My Kingdom, I think,Should lie near the

Ocean, My lands, I think,Be bathed in gold,

For when I have been aged,Conquered, cheated and sold,

My iron, my steelMy 24-Karot rarities of Old,

Be tossed in the Endless depths,

Their glory untouched.

Isn’t this my topPriority?

Isn’t this the ultimateWorldly dripped, soil painted (Blood

lathered),Wind scorched goal?

-To be surrounded by rarity?-Is this happiness?

-Is this what my world beholds?

P200 – 4 through 7

On the beachDrinking my carotene cocktail and gin

I can see for milesOn the sand

Of the burning coast, my feet in the water.

Time goes byToo, too swiftly.

It seems you that you just joined me this morning

And now you leave meAlone.

Joy this morning,Sadness this dusk.

Go my friend, my loverInto the sizzling sunset

Of a bonfire night.

Darryl Thompson

A Chilled Presence: Un-restrained

When the SunFalls low (Let the Ice Kingdom grow)

And the chilled groundNumbs my toes, (Let the body feel its soul)

I’ll close my eyes(and keep them silenced)

My will in practice(Lowered depths, pure niacin)

A sacred time-This scene I’ll hold.(In my own silence)

“The world. Is not too cold”(I lie, I’m not so bold)

“The world, is not so old”(I say this. A kind hearted Eskimo)

Below zero is a blessing(Keeps you humble dear)

Keeps the body alert.Heat generates from the drop.

(A warm, golden turn)Thus, eases the pain-

Keeps you well preserved.

(Your heart, in turn, will continue to burn)(Your heart, in turn, will continue to burn)

And though it hurts,To walk in the snow,

I feel alive – the beauty of the cold.

The ice cave is my home,The cave nearest to the Valley of Glaciers.

And soon, it will be my way of Life.A life filled with a chilled presence,

Un-restrained.

Want to be apart of this year’s competition?

Choose a Paint Chip from the Library &

Submit your Poem along with the entry form,

by April 8th, 2016!

GOOD LUCK!