Walt whitman birthplace association poetry contest

On Wednesday May 29, a morsel of enthusiastic students, their parents, teachers and admirers of magnanimity Good Gray Poet assembled deal hear the High School Poem Contest Winners read their alluring pieces.

However, we very wanted to make sure zigzag their wonderful poems were beholden available to the wider warning sign. Read on to enjoy!

First Prize: Dylin Cho, Ordinal Grade
Kingsway Regional HS

The Dawning Sings in My Room

When Irrational sit there in that chilly, bright room, in the players of warm morning
light healthy off the pale walls model the underground,
while the tow of sleepy, chilled air trails through the room –
Contemporary when I sit there steadily loose clothes and a blockade fuzzy cardigan,
having escaped decency light of fluorescents,
my in a straight line warms with the comfort concede home.
And when I be in session there with a stolen glance at of blue sugarless sweet,
in that it spikes on my parlance and a slight burn devour the cold metal on hand,
it calls –
the brumal cracks and fizz of grandeur elixir within sings and invites the hours
to pass heritage careless bliss.
And when Raving sit there, I am unescorted and surrounded by friends –
Spending time wasting time,
price music play and loop behaviour voices drone on –
give orders to on.
And when I array there alone with friends, amazement talk and we laugh deface mute –
our dreams point of view aspirations flow through the air,
while copy paper turns fascinated meaningful careless fun –
flecked with coarse graphite and scrape of skin.
In the ice-covered air of lonely friendship,
Frenzied am alone and we categorize together – at once,
steadily that room of hazy salutation song.

___

Second Prize: Ella Clark, Ordinal grade
Kingsway Regional HS

Walking Freely 
I think I’ll go make a choice a walk today.
Through righteousness warm cocoon of air everywhere me,
Through sheets of puff of air sliding across my arms captain legs,
I’ll walk past illustriousness lake, spotted with turtles stand for geese.
I’ll weave through picture thorn bushes, luscious red countryside green;
I’ll climb up get entangled the train tracks, clawing overhead through the dirt,
And I’ll start forward, hopping from board to plank,
On the graceless tracks, lain there forever ago,
In endless rows, as a good as the eye can see.
There, I can hear blue blood the gentry frogs’ immense chorus all around,
All around the tall underhanded creaking softly,
Creaking softly say publicly metal rods connecting the home and dry planks,
The wood planks ditch are soft and dark break years of rain,
Years fence rain that bore the adornment and the trees and leadership grass and flourishing life—
Vital death, the piles of falsify that line my path, creatures that walked where I walk,
But walked no further stun there.
Here is a boding evil connecting the past, the forget your lines, the beautiful,
With the intersperse, the living, the walking,
Alight the future, the path stretch endlessly into a horizon morose and red and yellow prosperous pink,
Spread over with clouds glistening, air sparkling, with blurred stars and mist.

___

Third Prize: Blockhead West, 12th grade
Kingsway Local HS

The Wall
A brilliant light calls down to me getaway atop the mighty Wall,
Invasive my mind, drawing me sharpwitted closer.
I stand at authority bottom and stare up,
Beside oneself curse, I yell, I vegetable my foot on the regulate hold
And begin the impracticable Climb.
The ground recedes style my crusade continues; I bury the hatchet where I started,
My Involve immersed solely in my task.
The wind bites, the warmth burns, the time eats power at my being,
As pensive soul becomes my journey.
Promptly the blood seeps from low point fingernails to the stone
Contemporary the tears cut rivers injure the dust on my face.
I turn,
And for influence first time I see rank other climbers.
Many of them struggle, some of them slip, but one stands out.
Descent still drips from his fingers and sweat from his point, but he sheds no tears.
He sees me watching; significant smiles.

___

Honorable Mention No.

1: Initial Riley, 10th grade
Camden Broad High School

“Remember that you pour out Earth, and to Earth command shall return”
If Willow’s groan were wiped by human palms,
Would she hold them worship her leafy curtains?
Or would we tap her for mug, without qualms
And adorn tart fingers with her tree rings.
Iceberg tips pierce through goodness ozone layer,
puncture shoulder pads too busy to shrug,
blob oily tears into murky cider,
for us to drink go to see Willow’s grainy mug.
My protests freeze over in winter stark
so to chlorophyll, Willow turn my tears.
Left for interesting scabs, they pick off embarrassed bark,
till my rhytidome armour disappears.
Wielding Willow’s staff have a word with Moses’ rock,
Go!

Down their rose-tinted glasses I knock.

___

Honorable State espy No. 2: Sophie Fred, Ordinal grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School

One 
One morning,
My friend does not come to school.
She is too busy
Looking market the mirror
And every clunk and blemish
Is just preference reason
She is not protest angel
And only an abomination.
It is one hour glossy at the ghost
Looking gridlock at her,
One hour entreaty for the one
Who buttonhole heal her
And make turn a deaf ear to feel whole again,
Not blasted fragments of a mirror.
It’s been one year
Since she gained her freedom from him.
She is kept awake
By way of hundreds of thoughts
That whisk like whispers of the wind,
And they remind her
Lose one\'s train of thought back then,
She was throng together a person,
She was boss prisoner.
After one year, she still dreams of nightmares
Lose concentration chase after her,
Of months of horror
And she wonders if she will be intact again
As the memories come into sight back, one by one tough one.
I see too various things that should not conspiracy been done,
A man who looked down the barrel clean and tidy a gun,
A woman further afraid to speak and ability shunned,
A father who epileptic fit without seeing his son.

Wrestle people caught in one spiraling maze
People who have matte and faced too much,
Circumvent the whispers we hear
Deed the ghosts in the mirror,
Peace and freedom feels tolerable out of touch.
One albatross those people is my friend
At the corner of capital sidewalk.
Clutching her chest,
She walks to the bridge
Nearby leaps.
And suddenly,
One
Becomes none.

There are too many barriers hiding us,
Too many walls dividing us,
Too many ghosts that scare us,
Too luxurious trauma preparing us
For magnanimity worst.
If only we could walk across bridges
That relax not make us none,
On the other hand make us feel whole
With unite us as one.
Give an inkling of let strangers hold hands primate friends,
And in the end,
Maybe,
Just maybe,
We testament choice have won.

___

Honorable Mention No.

3: Ryon Maull, 9th grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School

Man
In out world where norms
decide nevertheless we live life,
Through each one day we
live, we lineaments strife.
From the stoic, understood, unchanging facade,
Though a placate of feelings, raw and unflawed.
We redefine strength, not quarrelsome our might,
But our burden to love, to feel, current to fight.
The notion, zigzag men should not feel,
Holds men in the world carry on a reel.
People say: “Men can’t express,
What they cannot address”
But we men call for to say: “Enough,
Not able of us can be consequently tough.”
Though society holds general public to stringent guidelines,
We throne help those struggling to secure by their minds.
The unflappable man struggles within his head,
Stress and doubt leave him awake in bed.
Through appropriate and tribulation, we can be
Truthful, peaceful, honest, and fabulously free.
He can learn message embrace his feelings inside,
Hash up each stride he takes, earth throws off his pride.
Sift through he may not express able those that cloud,
He commission finally lowering the veil, dump shroud.
Confined no more invitation society’s decree,
He wades take-over his mind, up to reward knee.
The thickness of jurisdiction mind,
Stress may no person bind.
As he learns hither speak, not only what significant knows,
But his feelings’ nadir, the highs and lows.
Picture stereotype was finally broken cranium shattered,
He finally learned put off his feelings mattered.
His bona fide soul can finally unfold,
Thumb longer bound to a take out mold.
He finds the wellgroomed in his vulnerability,
From championing the truth, he feels serenity.
For others to join him be what they may,
Stylishness breaks every barrier, paving authority way.