2018 winning poems - city of nedlands · thrown high into the black sky, a silver eye crying black...

2018

Winning Poems

2018

Contents

Category A: Middle Primary (Years 3 and 4)

1st PrizeThe Moon is a Splatter of Paint by Tessa Scarparolo

2nd PrizeSubmarines by Anthony Ahern

3rd Prize Sand Between My Toes by Olivia Hartsone

Highly CommendedCourage by Alex Harrison

Category B: Upper Primary (Years 5 and 6)

1st PrizePainting music memories by Hannah Wang

2nd PrizeInsect Emporium by Genevieve Kessey

3rd PrizeRecipe for a common future by Kaitlyn Sin

Highly CommendedThe Four Seasons of Life by Jeremiah Wang

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Category C: Lower Secondary (Years 7, 8 and 9)

1st PrizePortia my deore, etan have you? by Bea Alejandre

2nd PrizeSocial Media by Andrew Walker

3rd Prizeover and over by Anna Charles

Highly CommendedMy Great Grandfather by Ashley McPhee

Category D: Upper Secondary (Years 10, 11 and 12)

1st Prize and Overall WinnerHalf by Sonya Frossine

2nd PrizeCalendar by Sonya Frossine

3rd PrizeVicennial by Tatiana Kurniawan

Highly CommendedRoll of The Die by Alexandra Ayers

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Roland Leach Poetry Prize 2018

4

The Moon is a Splatter of Paint

The moon is a bright, white snowballThrown high into the black sky,A silver eye crying black ink Looking down on us.

The moon is a silver splatter of paintAgainst the dark black night,A shimmery pearlOpening at midnight in a dark coral reef.

The moon is a silver balloonFlying gracefully into the dark night,A silver bottle top speeding across the black sky.Waiting to be found.

The moon is a dark hole Eaten by white, white ants,White chalk smudged on the blackboard.A sequinned pencil case flipping to black.

The moon is a woman walking down a runwayIn a silvery white dress.A mystery waiting to be found.You never know when it will go and why.

Category A: Middle Primary (Years 3 and 4) 1st Prize: The Moon is a Splatter of Paint by Tessa Scarparolo

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Winning Poems

Submarines

I see you, yes you,

Making your way through the water

With an important message.

You`re a ships little daughter

With a big crew.

All with even bigger jobs to do

With never resting engineers

And small damages here and there,

No other thing can compare!

Where sonar screens

Screaming ping! Ping! Ping!

And warning bells that ring ring ring,

A wide variety of crew,

Like no other thing,

Submarine, Submarine.

Category A: Middle Primary (Years 3 and 4) 2nd Prize: Submarines by Anthony Ahern


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Sand Between My Toes

As I stand in the sand, my toes sink through.

The crystal clear water surrounds my ankles.

Little crabs are crawling shells on the rocks.

I hear the monster waves crash like World War II bombing.

The seagulls soar through the air like flying feathers.

Ballerina wind dances along the crunchy sand making pretty patterns of swirls.

As I feel myself sinking in the sand I see the towers of dunes collapsing like

crumbling castles.

Fish jump quickly up out of the water shining their glistening scales on me.

The sunset shades darker then lighter and then the colours fade.

As I sink through the sand, I smell fish and chips.

The salty smell of seaweed makes my nose tingle.

And the air fills my lungs with life.

As I stand in the sand I feel, hear, see and smell.

My mind turns to the warmth of home.

The laughter, the food, the love

And my back now facing the water propels me there.

Category A: Middle Primary (Years 3 and 4) 3rd Prize: Sand Between My Toes by Olivia Hartsone

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Courage Courage is a presence of greatness. It is like the wind and waves - methods of unpredictable transport into greatness. Courage may be called like a playful cat for dinner or a child being summoned to the headmaster’s desk. It will come to school every day. If you lose it, do not worry it is just being summoned to a different master as it can’t be with everyone at once!

Winning Poems

Category A: Middle Primary (Years 3 and 4) Highly Commended: Courage by Alex Harrison


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Painting music memories by Hannah WangAt the start there is silence,

The magical suspense that fills the room,The baited breath that holds the audience,

The stillness as time looms; And awaits the ivory keys to paint

a thousand memories.

The crowd consumed by a vast black sea,Light itself reserved for the opulence

Of the shimmering Fazioli;Imposing, proud and ominous.

Its keys shining, glistening pearls - The jewels of this dark ocean.

Feeling nervous, his legs are shaking,Heart pounding, as he bows

As he sits, his arms start aching,From their sleep, the audience will rouse!Fingers gliding gracefully across the keysPlaying in the character … of the piece!

Bringing back memories of their childhood,The audiences’ thoughts becoming clear,

After the performance, they all stood,And clapped loudly, and don’t forget the cheer –

A performance of a lifetime, So in the local paper it will go!!

When the hall is empty,Again there is dead silence,

The audience left quite quietly,The ivory keys painted memories of magnificence,

Such as finding pearls and shells,On a childhood beach.

After they leave there is silence,The quietness that filled the room,

Holding the thoughts of the audience,The time sure quickly loomed,

The ivory keys all paintedA thousand memories…

Category B: Upper Primary (Years 5 and 6) 1st Prize: Painting music memories by Hannah Wang

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Insect Emporium

Each spot telling a storyOf rescuing roses and Escaping from the glanceOf little girls.Red, black. Red, black.Like dusk into dawn.

Hiding among thesticks and leaveswaiting for its preyand hiding awayfrom predators.Blending inUnseen by animals,Great and small.

Flying high in the shadows Of butterfliesTheir appearanceGrey and murkyHiding everywhereFrom wardrobes to cabbage leaves.

Buzz, buzz, zoom, zoomThrough the trees and plants and flowersCreating sweetness for the mouthA delight for alleven Winnie the Pooh!

Creeping, crawlingUp a silver webDark and witty The foe of a fly.Legs all branched outOne to eightWaiting for tasteful friends toFly through

The secret room,A house Of the insects,Filled with fluttering spectaclesto blood sucking vampires.The insect Emporium.

Winning Poems

Category B: Upper Primary (Years 5 and 6) 2nd Prize: Insect Emporium by Genevieve Kessey


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Category B: Upper Primary (Years 5 and 6) 3rd Prize: Recipe for a common future by Kaitlyn Sin

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Winning Poems

The Four Seasons of Life Jeremiah Wang

The radiance of the sun was reflected off the water’s fringeAffectionate rays of sunlight danced on the sand which gleamedNot a bit of disappointment surrounded me, not even a tingeMy determination to succeed made me smile and I even beamed

The warmth of the eternal summer was pleasantThe sun’s cordial rays made the atmosphere a dreamMy mind was focused like it was presentLife was bright - a cooperative team

The golden crisp leaves spiralled downLeaves dropped turning brownProblems arose higher than the groundAlas no friends were to be found

The branches of success succumbedThe sound of potential problems hummedMy feelings dived- they turned out numbedVibrations of imminent loss drummed

Clouds suddenly covered the atmosphereRain beat down and soddened the soilI found that I had a worthy challengerThe isolation made my beaten brain boil

Thunder boomed and lightning flashedHail roared- consistently banging louderWhere’d my friends gone, had they all crashed?Was this to be my final twelfth hour?

Unexpectedly, the torrents of darkness decided to stopFlowers sprung - trees leafy and lushI endured all this and did not flopMy destiny was near warm feelings gushed

Birds were chirping like never beforeThe grass turned greenI was normal once moreDetermined, unwavering and keen

Category B: Upper Primary (Years 5 and 6) Highly Commended: The Four Seasons of Life by Jeremiah Wang

Portia my deore, etan have you?

“Portia my deore, etan have you? Yer skin looks atelic pale, so how do you do?”“My broþor so strong, modor habban forgetan,

But worry you shall not, for thyself is well, yes that’s true.”

“But Portia my deore, worry I must!Take this pie, eat it- especially the crunchy crust.”

“I shall keep it for later, store in my lunch bag I will.”Stores it with her faint hand she does, light hair caught by gust.

Portia, at petite ladies she lōciansBodies suggesting no enthral to epicureansDresses with lacy corsets, matching prettily

Delicate she ambles, her path blocked by her best ladies

“Portia my deore, etan have you?Yer blouse looks awfully loose, so how do you do?”

“My ladies so slender, modor habban forgetan,But worry you shall not, for thyself is well, yes that’s true.”

“But Portia my deore, worry we will!Take this loaf of bread, right from Mr. Charles’ mill.”

“I shall keep it for later, store it in my lunch bag I must.”Stores with grace she does, the forming lump in her lunch bag, a hill

Portia, landing at a grassy patch she doesFear of encountering Eve’s demise, she ignores

Perching on the soft green, wild flowers the atmosphereHer cherished lover spots her, pauses, pecks her on the cheeks

“Portia my only love, etan have you?Yer cheeks not be plump, so how do you do?”

“My lover so true, modor habban forgetanBut worry you shall not, for thyself is well, yes that’s true.”


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Category C: Lower Secondary (Years 7, 8 and 9) 1st Prize: Portia my deore, etan have you? by Bea Alejandre

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Winning Poems

“But Portia, my only love, worry is my plan!You must drink this finest of wine, almost as good as Chian!”

“I shall dine it for later, store it in my lunch bag I must.”Stores with affectionate she does, kissing the handsome young man

Portia, at the tasty goods within she peepsRise to her feet she does, skirt doing ladylike sweeps

Proper poise she possesses, a chin held high and mighty At the sight of dear Portia, horses neigh, a carved carriage stops

“Portia my dohtor, etan have you?Yer face looks sunken in, so how do you do?”“My faeder so kind, modor habban forgetan

But worry you shall not, for thyself is well, yes that’s true.”

“Portia my dohtor! I’m dreadfully sorry for my spouse’s memory!Quickly skip off to your modor, for she has Brie!”

“Skip off I shall, goodbye! A safe trip you must ensure.”“Yes yes, now run along my dohtor, I will now deliver the emery.”

Portia, promenades leisurely she doesSmiling politely at acquaintances she passes

Arrives she, at her family’s fancy, well-liked householdAs Portia goes in, her cultivated mother greets her in a loving caress

“Portia my dohtor! Have some of this Brie!Yer body’s not curvy, but foods will fatten you up, I guarantee!

“I shall eat it outside, for you feed me so well.”“Oh an’ also, Dohtor, eaten have you the biscuits and tea I gave thee?”

“Yes my modor so loving and ethereal, they tasted piquant!Leave now I will, for to not eat it, I shan’t!”

“Okay my dohtor Portia, then off you shall go!”And off dear Portia went, a seemingly Goddess-esque her descendant

Portia now sits at the barn, the kind-given goods at her sideOnly to throw them all away, her aching body mortified

With no food she sat, her mind only filled with the word slimWhilst her overly attenuated stomach, just growled and cried


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Social MediaSocial media – What’s your say?

Skype, Instagram, #FortniteBestPlays –You may think it’s ok, but really, there’s some parts that are grey

And what makes up that grey?People.

You see, there’s people that administrateThe groups that just discriminate

And that just generates hate..And communication with the nation’s

Bound to cause discrimination..But that’s just scratching the surface.

I mean, it causes suicide and homicideAnd makes people just want to hide –

Some people find it fun, but deep inside..They know the damage they’re creating...

And the lives they are degrading.But social media isn’t all bad.

After all, we wouldn’t be using it if it was.You can design a brand new space probeWith someone halfway across the globe

The creation of that automationYou can broadcast to the nation

From innovative music to elevator musicYou can share it so anyone can use it

And how do we do that?Through social media.It’s a bit weird, really.

It negates your ability to communicateYet also helps you to advocate

Or innovate, maybe createOr negatively contaminate

People’s minds with all kindsOf information that you find

This generation’s new foundation

Category C: Lower Secondary (Years 7, 8 and 9) 2nd Prize: Social Media by Andrew Walker

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Winning Poems

Has now formed a new relationWith this mutation of communication

In the form of an applicationYour home screen’s just a line formation

Of these nation-wide creationsAnd of course, the creators are also the users.

And you’re assuming that ‘cause we’re all humansWe all get to share opinions

But people use that to their advantageAnd mock that one kid’s disadvantage

The bully’s excuse?“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I just lit the fuse.”

Let me know when you realise the time you spent onlineTrying to find a line to burn with the peoples’ helpless lives

Let me know when it occurs to you that all the time,You’re degrading peoples’ lives on the other side of the line

There are people hating, forever waitingFor that one person’s burden to worsenSupposedly inadvertently hurting them

They find delight in killing them, not only in Fortnite.One more person in the prize pool of lives

Powerball’s 9, jackpot’s suicideTell me how you feel when you hear the person you tormentedBecame demented now cemented to a life of being lamented

“Oh I didn’t mean it!” Yes you did, you clearly meant it“It was unprecedented!” Well it’s now documented

According to the World Health Organisation800,000 people suicide in all nationsEvery year, and it’s mainly all teens

Why? Social media and their popularity.40 seconds a life, 2 minutes 3 lives

Do the math, every day that’s 2,160 you’ll findGlobal mortality rate? 16 in 100 grand

Now you can see why some kids have it all bannedIf all of the stats are accurate

8 people would have suicided as I “rap” thisOnly 842 words

That’s only just over a third of the number of suicides in this worldIn one day, today, object as you may,

But quote on quote on another poem just said today:

“You can’t avoid the truth, only deny it”So I guess I should say, “Deny as you may”So deny as you may, continue your story

On how social media’s good for your grades on historyYou’re right, but then you get the flat earthers

And that’s another problem for us little workersThe internet trolls, creating new polls

On how the global warming conspiracy’s just taking a tollOn your learning at school, how it should be a ruleThat round-earthers get kicked out of your school

How the Earth is a plate on the back of a turtleThe weather’s a hoax, that’s why our soil’s not fertile

“A round Earth is lame!” Well that’s just mundaneSo what goes down must come up, that’s what you’re saying?

Then to the people that like hurting others‘Cause of their gender, their issues, their wealth or their colours

That comment you made that someone’s black or whiteThat comment’s black and white, you clearly want to start a fight

Be a man, man, it’s time you realiseThat everyone online has their equal rights

Online, it’s a landmine There’s no silver line to that porcupine

But on the other sideIt’s soft, like some people online.They help you with your issues

Always there with a box of tissuesAlways there to help you

When you need, they’re there to rescue youThey help you with your algebra

Using, of course, social mediaThey get you good grades, so you don’t need to stay up lateThe only thing they want back is a nice little “Thanks, mate.”

So now, you can see that people powerPlays a part in this whole program.

So again, social media – What’s your say?Do you completely avoid it, or do you use it all day?

Well, no matter what you think, you should always be careful of what you say.Because the things you do

Might come right back round to you.

Thank you.


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Winning Poems

at the mirrorshe sees me and we stand for our usual ritualwith the brush in handwe stand in silence, in a morning roomthe pale sun creeping through the window behind uslike a photographthe mirror captures this distant moment

her hands are soft and fragileshe is calm todaygently folding my layers of hairover and over

each day begins with this a reflex or unconscious habit, it has becomeI see her sunken and dark eyesa restless sleep supports herour faces are different but alike

we are our own time continuum “space-time does not evolve, it simply exists”we simply existover and over

Category C: Lower Secondary (Years 7, 8 and 9) 3rd Prize: over and over by Anna Charles


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Category C: Lower Secondary (Years 7, 8 and 9) Highly Commended: My Great Grandfather by Ashley McPhee

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Winning Poems

Half

I woke up in a box of October.

It makes sense – my birthday, the earth as I knew it, rising,the slowly falling year before boiling out in a breath of smoke;revolution.

it began cardboard,broken only with bulletholes for breathingno bite of light invading in, even in the hazeof a half-woken afternoon.it wrapped like a hand around the back of my head as I curled in, closed.

Over the days the newly swept floor fell away,wet with water, puddled in the morning grass.Yet, as I rolled out of my unsleepthe ground would form again, growing like skin over a bandaid,too deep into the day to escape.it only just split its smile open early enoughto welcome the ants in.

they coated my fingers, bit kisses into the crook of my thumbs.black droplets of bloodmarching down down down.so i screamed on the second day,


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Category D: Upper Secondary (Years 10, 11 and 12) 1st Prize and Overall Winner: Half by Sonya Frossine

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tried to cut my way out of the paper-wet-wombwith a pair of

headphones.the walls bruised rot-brown – the surface scratched, sure,but the same was the same,only uglier – a broken arm reminder.

the Only thing which drains out the shock,the Only hand to peel away the scab of the monthis the tongue, poking out, bubble-gum blackticking out against the endless boxes of teeth.November erodes the rock,December washes out the sanduntil I have drowned in a new year.

and the box grows, toountil i can sit, stand up. stretch.the walls fade clear.

i can see everything – the summer, the dead-hot leaves, curling paper-brown.i can touch it, too.and?

every step is false, painted in mirror, washed so smooth it only reflects whiteness.the halfness expands like nazism.the falling apart, held together by two hands whichbreak, bite into each other.

i wait.

Winning Poems


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Calendarthe crow pulls a worm out,biting it cough-quick. he thinks he is eating and ithink i am writing butneither of us can remember what happened yesterday.

of coursei can trace the glowing zig-zag left by my head on the monitor.let’s see: shallow from 4am onwards.now that was breakfast in the dark – something from the fridge,fired it over the stove. held by a circle-perfect burn – no,wait, wait. that was dinner.

to remember is to – yeah, flooded by an embarrased ink wash, sucked out by the salt under my nails. i had to watch him eat it.

what fell between those pillars? ((pebbles, really,buried ankle-deep.))

by the time i got there, it seemed like light had already arrived,spilled down the sides of a fallen tree in the parking lot,her dry fingers tracing out a hundred invisible leaves.

Category D: Upper Secondary (Years 10, 11 and 12) 2nd Prize: Calendar by Sonya Frossine

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Winning Poems

darkness had abdicated an hour before,occasionally poking like eyelashes – out from underneath the leaves glued to the gutter,their holes curling and closed like a thousand eyes

and so i saw a girl in the hallway, whites rimmed lipstick-red.thought about drawing her. thought about writing this.i know her number, not her name.she once accidentally wrote it on the inside of my book. i dropped the subject, but memorised the numbers.it ends with 0.

right, left. kept walkinghead tangled in a to-do list.flicked out a few more classes like matches,brushing the smoke off at the table, scrub-soaping my hands to...eat oh – i did bring something out.a square of a sandwich – forgot it on the table, the one on the edge of the balcony.came back, found something different.a circle of sesame seeds, hulled out, twice – bird eyes, licking down to the white wood underneath.


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VicennialIn memory of the souls broken in the 1998 riots of Indonesia.

“I understand the suffering of the people, I know, I was once poor and I judge that if we keep going like this there will be no progress.”

– President Suharto, 9 May 1998.

Jangan lupa Mei 1998:The asphalt veins of a beating heartRun thick with blazing marchesSlurred shouting drunk on Molotov cocktailsFuel a purge of unbridled rage

Watch the huddled bodies behind the wooden bathroom doorTerror dripping from clammy, trembling hands.The six-year-old’s arms, tight around her waist.A tap drips rhythmically like the pulse of a beating heart, then the door– Bang.Bang, bang,Bang, bang, bang, bang, “God, save our souls” whispers Yu-Peng Chou–

Bangunlah jiwanya,Let her soul be raised,

Leave the men to peck in an orderly fashion,One by one, systematic like soldiers (savages or kin?)Penetrating her dignity, dispensing shame.Eyeballs like bursting rubies, they conquer and advanceMarooning a naked figure writhing, curled, in painRaw red innocence oozes languidly out fromThe skeleton of a girl, a mother, a child ditched in a drainA child just like me, same eyes, same heartCharred flesh feeding the parched, prostituted dirt

Tanah tumpah darahku,The land where I have shed my blood,

Category D: Upper Secondary (Years 10, 11 and 12) 3rd Prize: Vicennial by Tatiana Kurniawan

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Winning Poems

And everything will burn, burn, burn,“Burn the rich for we are poor”It will burn like the flames in their bloodshot eyes It will burn 32 years of political promised lies

Bangsaku, rakyatku,My people, my homeland,

Ang will be BudionoYulistio now, we can’t have Zhao.Identity genocide, perish or homogenize.

A vicennial of dust glazed over newspaper articles,Body counts archived and pigeonholed awayThe cards were dealt, the transaction madeLacerations concealed by a latex band-aid 168 victims and no charges laid168 witnesses and ‘insufficient evidence’ remained168 girls, mothers, children sentenced to start again overseasOr be silent.168 raped, 1000 dead, 2 days,

Tanahku, negeriku yang kucintaMy home and country which I love

Do not forget May 1998. Indonesia Raya, Merdeka! Merdeka!Indonesia the Great, Independent and Free!

Note: The 1998 riots of Indonesia were incidences of civil unrest and mass violence, especially against the Indonesians of Chinese descent.Lines in the Indonesian language are excerpts from the Indonesian national anthem, with translation underneath.


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Roll of The Die

You lie beyond our dreams at nightbut never out of sight. You are the farmer’s worst nightmarewhen you light your red flare.Dry, naked dams at an expense,skeletal stock on fence.

Starved wild dogs and feral pigsthin as wire, bulged ribs.It is too much to try to keepfarmers forced to sell sheep,two-thousand ewes with lambs at footproving it’s too hard put.

The drafted mob is in the shedall counted off by head,smell the heat from their creamy fleecemicron count’s right this piece.Needed a good one to pull throughnow it’s more than a few.

Category D: Upper Secondary (Years 10, 11 and 12) Highly Commended: Roll of The Die by Alexandra Ayers

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Winning Poems

I don’t admire your reason,you decay our seasons.You make the bravest of men weep,no ryegrass to feed sheep.You dispossess nature of rain,paddocks in endless pain.

The dull dusk turns bloody the sky,twenty-eights cease to cry.Sheep would not survive our summermelting flesh, they’d suffer.Guard the land or it’ll spoilfirst the dry topsoil.

You strip the farmer of his clotheskeeping him on his toes,his backbone, the roots of the farmsenses the pressure and harm.Truckie hauls the lambs on board,dried umbilical cords.Shaking Chum bags in our hands or,rattling Bundy cans, cankill the deathless silence we hear.No holding them this year,no massacres of pretty lambs,no more droughts just full dams.

The Roland Leach Poetry Prize is a biennial competition run by the City of Nedlands Library Service since 2005. It aims to promote poetry in the community and to recognise and reward outstanding,

original works written by young people in Western Australia.

This is the seventh year of the competition and there were 1123 entries from 112 schools across the state.

Thank you to everyone who participated in the 2018 Roland Leach Poetry Prize. This competition would not be possible without the

enthusiasm and dedication of all the participants.

Nedlands Library Service, October 2018

2018

Nedlands Library60-64 Stirling Highway Nedlands WA 6009T 9273 3644E [email protected] nedlands.wa.gov.au

Mt Claremont Library105 Montgomery Avenue Mt Claremont WA 6010T 9383 1462E [email protected] nedlands.wa.gov.au

2018 winning poems - city of nedlands · thrown high into the black sky, a silver eye crying black...

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