3rd to 5th Grade PoemsFirst Place
Guns ’n’ Roses by Anthony Yang The sun’s rays shine through the windows
The potted flowers are still in bloom on the windowsill The droning of the teacher is met by boredom After-school plans race through my mind But then a sharp noise disturbs my reverie And screams from students start growing in number Our teacher rushes us outside and tells us not to panic But our hearts beat at the speed of light A wave of students overwhelms our class outside And for the sake of life they stay quiet But the sounds of bullets pierce through the crowd Like a saw cutting through wood later We enter the white hospital and inhale the fresh air The front desk tells us which room my classmates are in We nervously walk to the room with our flowers clutched in my hand And inside warm greetings and hugs are exchanged I have a dream that guns will no longer be used for violence That schools and neighborhoods will be safe And us humans will never have to think about the dangers That we will never have to hear the sound of a gunshot again Second Place
Dreams by Memphis Taylor Dreams, something that grabs you and tells you to not to let go,
Something that people might tell you no. The dream that whispers in your ear, That thing only you can hear. It grabs you into the future, While it reminds you of the past. It whispers that song that will make you last. Then you will blossom like a flower in the sun. And one day you will reach up, And then grab the dream then jump Into the world with a dream carrying you whispering to you hat song that keeps you going on too. Then as a dancer a doctor a detective or whatever you dream to be, and now you will see. Third Place
I Dreamed a Dream Tabea Nett I dreamed a dream, Of a better world Of a cool, clean stream, With currents awhirl. Of no disease, Of many trees, And no poor child, Without a smile. No one was killed, Our hearts were filled, We all were glad, No one was sad. No one went hungry, No one died of thirst, Everyone thought, Of others first, I dreamed a dream, Of a better world, And thought, why not, Make it our world. Honorable Mention My Wish by Addison Messer I wish upon a star,
My dream would go so far,
Watching the seagulls fly above the sea,
I don’t like to litter or is it just me?
With all the trash and dirty stuff,
The seagulls are really not so tough,
My dream is that you would not get a jitter,
So ask yourself, do you litter?
I wish the birds could soar and fly,
Without them wondering and asking why,
Trash lays scattered all around,
And litter and stuff stay on the ground. My dream would be all girls and boys,
Would love our land as much as toys,
That animals are free to walk and play,
Without plastic and trash in their way.
I wish that turtles would not think plastic is food,
Do your part and not be rude,
Think of others and don’t be lazy,
Throw your trash away and recycle like crazy!
My wish is simple and so true,
I trust and hope and pray for you,
We can do this as a team,
I hope you have the same dream!
People's Choice I Have a Dream by Ella Smith I want to bring MLK out of you. Martin’s dream: to unite us all, peaceful yet strong, understanding yet diverse. My dream: to bring that pacifism into this harsh world. Martin’s dream: to exile segregation. Our dream: One earth, indivisible. 6th to 8th Grade PoemsFirst Place
dear moth wings by Kiran Narula
he tore you from your body, stripped you
to a thin sheet like papyrus. you are paper from a book without its spine, words in disarray, meaning turned meaningless. his fingers were warning signs, holding your delicacy between his thumb and forefinger. he left you in dirt, i don’t know if you held onto something else that could move you, caught onto the threads of a shoelace from the kids who ran in the field or mended yourself to a flower’s center, broke the pattern of pink petals with your beige, blended with something that you could become. you are only what is left, the shell of a body, pulled away from what rooted you. i wonder what it’s like to be ripped at the seams, fall apart like loosened thread, nothing to stitch yourself to. you used to beat like timpani, now you are fragments of scales and chitin and veins, a lampshade without a light. do you have purpose if you are separated from your stem - are you still wings if you cannot fly? i guess skin is still skin without bones. Second Place
Mother, Falling by Olivia Sisson A mother talks of the moon revolving around the Earth, as if the story Was hers. As if her face too was made of starch baking powder, applied With strokes of a bristled brush, dipping into dimples like paint Would fall into the curves of a wall. Reminds you of light As if her face too was made of starch baking powder, she follows The same path over and over. A toy train on its cable Reminding you of light that could fall into the curves of a wall, blinded By night, a hand guiding her into more of the same - A path over and over. A toy train on its cable. Wonders If she wants to see further. See how day drains By night. A hand guides her over the same Horizon. She, with curved hips, and who wants To see further. See how day drains And spills. The woman is tired, look at her eyes, her Eastern Horizon. Curved hips and drawn divots, she dreams Of when she will fall. Out of orbit, out Into space. The woman is tired, look at her eyes Dipping into dimples like paint on a bristled brush, she will Fall. Out of orbit, left to herself. Sometimes A mother talks of the moon revolving around the Earth. Third Place
When Dreams are Overrun by Ella Oursler Moon glowed pale, Sun shone bright, Side by side in day and night Pushed by rain, pulled by tide, Searching for clams, wherein pearls hide, Sinking down, down in the sand, Where water blurs sea and land, Sergeant major gives command, Black and yellow, band stripe band Far away, are the deep tides calmer? Where soil is gone and life lives longer? This alien environment, forgotten by time, Where strange things happen below the brine At last, arising through the fog, Emerging, feet anchored, on mossy pine log, Fig, birch, sky, dirt, Salty pools melt into the earth, Cold and warm, far and near, Houses, people, towns, appear, A dock, a boat, a thatched mud home, But one man stands by, all alone, With lure, bait, line and pole, One meal or more is his solemn goal Eyes looking, absorbing the scene, Mind, body and life serene, Then once more shoved along the way, Leaving boat and dock and bay, Approaching summer, forest, tree, Leaf and vine, far from the sea, Where no rules are written by hand so bold, And untouched the soil, heavy with gold, And the tortoise keeps its shell and lives to grow old, Where the sun smiles on life itself, And Oak is home to mushroom shelf, And crimson is the sunset, warm with health, And man seldom comes to such a place of wealth But alas the idle mind returns, to the ambitions of which it always yearns, And city and building crowd out the sun, Who never smiles at what man has become And ground has been reaped for all its worth, And horse, once free, is now saddled by girth, And life crawls on, deprived of mirth Opposites coming together at last, Sea so deep, blue and vast, Bog and little seaside town, Forest and tree letting cold rain down, An uncivilized garden paradise, Threatened by malignant man’s cruel vice, And breathing deep the mind awakes, And forgets the dreams in which it partakes, And opposites slip away, Making way for bright, bright day, Alas, but a dream, but a fantasy, So close so close, a dream of peace, And equality, of differences meeting and becoming as one, But all rushes apart when dreams are overrun. Honorable Mention And when my mother’s immaculate,
blue velvetine wings surround me again Like ashes- I crumble My heart flutters with the wings of caged birds Delicate drops of crimson break the bruised skin of my feet The cold chair shocks my burning back but there is nothing else besides pure Unrelenting, bursting, blinding Light As if someone has pulled my torn heart strings and the lightbulb in my chest has started to hum For a few moments, the bees in my head are quiet The sweat dripping down my tired arms are their honey Applause crashes like waves, Breaking against the clean white walls. People's Choice Butterfly Dreams Emma Grace Palmer Dreams are like butterflies.
You have to work hard to capture them, but They will flutter through your fingers if you do not try to entrap them. Dreams are like butterflies. You have to work hard to keep them away from pessimists Because pessimists will rip their wings. Dreams are like butterflies. You have to work hard to sustain them Because they will wither and their color will fade if you are lazy. Dreams are like butterflies. Dreams may change as you get older Like a butterfly emerging bright and new from its chrysalis. Dreams are like butterflies. I like to think that my big, beautiful butterfly dreams Are enclosed in a jar that is bursting with hope Dreams are like butterflies. Every goal accomplished brings me closer to A dream emerging in a blinding flash of triumph. 9th to 12th Grade PoemsFirst Place These words that were written Second Place The night before you sped unblinded into a solid horizon Third Place My grandfather appeared without me thinking, Honorable Mention I got the call a little after midnight People's Choice
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Last updated: May 18, 2018