Our Annual Poetry Contest

April is always the coolest month to have a poetry contest, not just because thoughts of Chaucer (see The Canterbury Tales‘ prologue), Shakespeare (the bard’s birthday’s on the 23rd), and T.S. Eliot (viz.: The Wasteland‘s opening line) readily leap to mind, but more because it’s Poetry Month, as declared by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, and celebrated thereafter as if it were an act of Congress. (I mean, they are the unacknowledged legislators of the world, after all.)

The Santa Barbara Independent takes pride teaming with the Santa Barbara Public Library to present the work of students selected from all our middle and high schools to herald spring in a language that understands both ageless truths and the fresh voices of youth: poetry. Tonight, Thursday, April 16 at 6:30pm, the winning poets will read their works at the Faulkner Gallery, located inside the downtown branch of the Santa Barbara Public Library (40 E. Anapamu St.). The event is open and free to the public.

First Place, High School

Dead Skin Cells for Leaves

I am the Wood Woman
I stand twenty feet tall
All red bark and slick needles

I am the wood Woman
My hips are mossy and wide
My roots are like killer whales

I am the Wood Woman
I love saplings, sunshine, and soil
Most of all, Water

I am the Wood Woman
The only one left
Just me: verdant and lonely

I’m highly flammable, too
I despise matches and men in hard hats,
But most of all-

I am the Wood Woman
You can touch me
But not with your hands-
I splinter.
Sculpt me, Carve me

I am the Wood Woman
I can be beautiful.

I am the Wood Woman
Seventeen years old,
I breathe oxygen.
No trunk, just two pulpy legs
My leaves: dead skin cells.

I am the Wood Woman
I am burning up.

-Jitsa Panerleau, La Cuesta Middle College

Second Place, High School

Maurice Catches a Break

The clairvoyant sits beneath the awning of a street corner cafe
He laughs five minutes before the flowers spill into the sidewalk
A car crashes into the florist’s stand in the next block,
No one is hurt
Maurice had a dream of giving his wife expensive flowers
Today he picks up damaged goods
Her eyes bloom

-Marley Taylor, La Cuesta Middle College

Third Place, High School

Cheese
I locked the car and walked in the front door of my house
There was cheese on the table.
The cheese had its circular windows facing the sky
And it smelled bad

-Alexie Phillips, La Cuesta Middle College

Fourth Place, High School

Faith

As poison fills the lungs of wretched men,

They gasp for one last gulp of oxygen.

On Auschwitz grounds, their bodies, dead, all lie

For nothing more than their religion-why?

If he, all-knowing and supreme, exists,

Then surely He would put a stop to this.

And since no proof of Him is ever found,

It seems quite clear that he is not around.

Yet on a lonely night I must profess

That I have prayed for His divine caress

To ease the emptiness of human life

And give a reason to resist the knife.

So I choose to believe in Him and feel

That faith, and faith alone, will make hime real.

-Willy Chontzen-Freund, Laguna Blanca

Fifth Place, High School

You

Air goes stale in a room

Where you won’t

Look at me as I need you to.

I cannot forget my skin

As it changed colors

To complement your mood.

-Kendall Burke, Dos Pueblos High School

Honorable Mentions, High School

The Summer I was Sixteen

We wondered and worried about our futures

Lying beneath the hot summer sun, like always

This time with our perspectives shaped by new experiences

But the sun never changed, only flooded our minds with nostalgia

Of the days when summer is endless

Both in time and possibilities.

Now an invisible weight hangs down,

A calendar emblazoned into our minds,

Reminding us with every breath that

Like the magic of summer disappearing in the cold reality of fall

Our wild childhood inhibitions harden into a rigid form

A form not entirely molded by us, but chiseled by the hardships of life.

The sun, if only momentarily, melts us back to our limitless, flexible,

Infinite forms.

Now, we cherish these days because

Unlike the constant summer sun,

This form may not return.

-Alexie Phillips, La Cuesta Middle College

Alzheimers

The doctor lied

To me. Maman didn’t die

Today. She didn’t die

Yesterday either. Maman died

Several years ago, the day

She turned to me with innocent

Bewildered eyes, and with expression

Fitting a child having seen bubbles

For the first time pondered

“Do I know you?” Four excruciating

Words heralded the agaonizing day

I was just another face

In the crowd, no longer

Her son: she was no longer

Maman. Maman was dead

To me.

From then, only

Her shell remained. Walking,

Talking, but empty-

Vestigial-the remains

Of something that used to

Matter, but now served

No purpose.

So don’t cry.

Maman didn’t die

Today. She was

Already dead. Now

The hollow corpse

She left behind

So inconsiderately

Has gone to join

Maman.

At last.

– Willy Chotzen-Freund, Laguna Blanca

First Place, Junior High

Paint Brush

I
am
sitting in a
mug with my
fellow brushes.
One day I am
picked up &
dipped in
turpentine.
It is so nice.
But that’s just
the begin-
ning. I hear
the scraping
of the palate
knife, how I
love that sou-
nd. My own-
er picks me
up. I glisten
as I dive into
the deep blue
paint and e-
merge into
the air to me-
et the rough
but gentle
canvas. By
my owner’s
hand I am
guided &
together
we paint
the sky.

-Carolyn Dorwin, Dunn Middle School

Second Place, Junior High

The Fool

Who am I you might ask
I am the fool
The wandering fool
That fell into the pool of life
That harsh thrashing wonderful pool
That split my mind in two
So next time you see me
Do not ask me my name
For all I say is
I am the fool
That fell into
The pool
Of life.

-Savannah Hudson, La Cumbre Junior High

Third Place, Junior High

When Tears Turn Red

As I sat there on my father’s bed
I remembered that his tears turned red
“Bye,” he told me on his way out
“I’ll be back next March,” and away he went
Now March I believe that he will come.
I sit by the door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
In came a soldier, not my father,
“Where is father?”
He is in a casket
A white casket with a flag.
Now I hear his story
Now I wait
Wait for his spirit to come.
His tears turned red.
My tears will turn red.
My tears are red
Red with sad blood.

-Amanda Helmsley, La Cumbre Junior High

Fourth Place, Junior High

MATH MATH MATH

It all leads to one path
Either you fail it or you pass
Math it’s very hard to grasp!
Some get it some don’t
You need constant reassurance or you won’t
It’s horrible on your nerves
And it takes away your curves!
Leaving you malnourished and bony
The ones who fail it feel lonely::

-Lena Christina Kennedy, La Cumbre Junior High

Fifth Place, Junior High

The iParents

It’s the iParents
New and super nifty
Just sign here
And we’ll send you a couple in a jiffy,
Oh, it’s the iParents,
Much, much better than yours I’m sure,
Just press this button,
And they’ll play Beethoven’s Second Overture,
Oh, it’s the iParents
With them you can surf the Web,
Or IM or snap a pic,
We promise you never have to go to bed.
They let you go out any time of night,
Let you have the last piece of raspberry delight,
They shrink in size to fit in your pocket
When you go jogging, any time you like.
They’re absolutely wonderful, kind and sweet,
Just hand in your parent’s receipt.
Mention this to a friend, and
We’ll throw in a pack of batteries and an iSis for free!

-Naomi Bowe, CAVA K12

Honorable Mentions, Junior High

Ode poem 1

A simple tear
Complex yet clear
Stories, stories, stories
A lover’s joy
A lover’s pain
Stories, stories, stories
A child’s birth
An ancestor’s death
Stories, stories, stories
A small tear,
A small joy,
A small pain
A small story

-Amanda Hensley, La Cumbre Junior High

Bio Poem

Esteban
Hardworking, funny, friendly
Son of Juan and Norma
Lover of family and friends
Music and football
And supporter of Obama
Who feels loved and happy when the Chargers win!
Very proud of myself when I get straight A’s
And active when I play football.
Who fears getting broken bones,
Dark haunted places
And fears dieing
Who would like to see myself successful
See myself in the NFL one day, and
Someday see something very unexplainable

-Esteban Alfar, La Cumbre Junior High School

You’re Just Paper:.

When you’re closed you’re just paper
But once you open up for me
An enchanted land, a whole new eorld
Just there for all to see

You take me inside your words
I carry you in my heart
Anything is possible in you
Like tasty fruit cream tarts

A brush f pen created you
Yet you live within my mind
Forever there you’ll be
Always inside for me to find

-Annie Kwong , Carpinteria Junior High School