2019 Youth Poetry

1st PLACE

The Lord’s Gaze

by Harlen Rembert

I sit in the driveway, in a lawn chair older than me, housed in the garage when not in use. My surroundings are the perfections of summer: the wavy rhythm of cicadas emitting from the trees, the ideal temperature of evening, clouds drifting lazily overhead, colored like cotton candy in the light of the sun, setting to my back behind the woods. Clouds never cease to amaze me. They are the pillars of Heaven, the Lord’s fractalized masterpieces. Some are thin, wispy, and seemingly unreachable, like a dream forgotten upon waking. Others are bold, strong, monumental, and loom overhead to remind you that Nature is God’s most formidable tool. Yet clouds always swim away. You don’t notice them swirling, moving along, changing in an unending cycle, but before you realize it, the clouds don’t look like they did a moment ago, and some have completely ebbed into memories. My life is, or was, this summer evening, literally and figuratively. As I sit in the lawn chair, taking in the beauty all around me, I realize that my days like these are numbered. All I know in the world, my driveway with the buzzing of insects, the evening sky above, and the neighbors’ ideal lawns enclosing me, will not last forever. Like the clouds I stare at so often, my life will soon reshape itself into something different. I only have four years before I will be “adult,” meaning I’ll have to register for a draft and select a candidate on a ballot. The ideas are beyond my comprehension. All I can honestly say that I understand in all the world is the shrill sound of insects as I look up into the twilit sky. I know, however, that it invariably must happen. As the sun fades behind the tree line, into a world I do not know, darkness hastens like the passing of time. From this dusk, fireflies begin to emerge, winking softly.

I feel the eyes of the Lord on me, and see His manifestation around me in the glow of the insects. Always there, even when time passes and darkness fills the summer evening. The clouds above me have reconstructed themselves, and at the edge of one, a star has appeared. I smile softly to myself as I breathe it all in, and listen to the cicadas’ drone intermingling with the crickets’ chirps. I stand, and walk inside.

2nd PLACE

Just Listen

by Youjaye Daniels

This is for Him The one who lived in a foul community Constant conflict between bloods and crips He knew his family needed security His resistance to joining a gang slip It’s becoming a need, he’s struggling His resistance to joining a gang slips He joins the bloods and starts hustling BANG This is for her The one who is abused by her alcoholic father She and her mother tries to find a way out But they knew if they left, they wouldn’t prosper They cry knowing that we wouldn’t hear them shout SMACK This is for him The one who smokes all of his problems away Pot seems like his best friend, his relief But when the buzz is gone, pain and grief awaits He can’t take it anymore, he grabs another defeat CLICK This is for her , The one who self-harmed due to past mistakes At school they would make fun of her scars And not knowing that she was going through so much heartache She committed suicide on the school parking lot in her car TRICKLE This is for him The one who is sucked into poverty and can’t make ends meet He searches for a solution and a job everyday And he goes to school, working hard to get his family back on their feet But the government and society won’t give them leeway He goes another night without any food He cries out to the sky knowing that he won’t be heard but viewed GRUMBLE

This is for her The one who battles with anxiety and depression Total sadness, total fear, she feels as if she is in a warzone The worth of meaning and purpose in her life is in question She is in a constant battle with her mind that is unknown Everytime she wakes, she’s in panic Everytime she closes her eyes, she doesn’t want them to open She sees people complain, they take their sanity for granted Because it’s hard to even see the light when you’re broken DRIP Voices, Sounds, and Thoughts From him, from her, and from them We ignored it, we didn’t see the cost But the cycle of pain continued to stem THIS IS FOR HIM, THIS IS FOR HER, AND THIS IS FOR THEM JUST LISTEN TO THEIR CRIES AND PLEADS FOR HELP THEY REACHED FOR OUR HANDS BUT THEY WERE JUST CONDEMNED JUST LISTEN AND GRAB ONTO THEM, FEELING THE PAIN THAT THEY FELT We’re so quick to judge and dismiss them But their stories don’t define who they are We’re so quick to forget them When we forget one day we weren’t that far It isn’t their fault that their angry and depressed It isn’t their fault that they’ve been sucked into darkness It isn’t their fault that they’ve been named the oppressed It isn’t their fault that they were targeted by this world when they were harmless I know what I needed and I know what they need We need to listen to what’s around us We need to help our fellow brothers and sisters be freed We need to build each other up and stop with the but’s Because you may not know what the person next to you is going through You may not know if today is their last day You may not know if your words could be a breakthrough Letting them know that your with them and everything’s okay YOU DON’T KNOW But if you are him, you are her, and you are apart of them I want you to know that I see you and I need you YOU ARE NOT ALONE, I AM WITH YOU

YOU AREN’T ON YOUR OWN, I AM HERE FOR YOU YOUR VOICE IS BEING HEARD, BECAUSE I HEAR YOU YOU DON’T HAVE TO CRY WIPE THE TEARS FROM YOU’RE LONELY EYES BECAUSE I LOVE YOU This is where it starts This is what we need to declare I hope this touches your hearts Because him, her, and them… ARE EVERYWHERE JUST LISTEN

3rd PLACE

I Am...

by Meg Bratton

I am from golden hayfields, from old spices and tea tree oil. I am from a small little town deep in the pines. I am also from the White Rose and the kudzu vines. I am from Christmas at Ida’s and long legs, from Rita, Sandy and Anne. I am from the “HOT DOG” and “ROLL TIDE”, from let’s say night prayers and love you bunches. I am from singing old hymns and growing as a Methodist. I am from Hickory Grove and York, South Carolina, from fried chicken and peach cobbler, from the time daddy got “eat up” by wasp by the old bath tub and cutting hay during the lunar eclipse. I am from we are never promised tomorrow so live in today.

HONORABLE MENTION

Differences

by Malaysia Wilson

Why hate on our differences When we love the world we live in isn’t it different? In one place the sun dances all over the buildings. While in another place the moon is singing a lullaby. Why hate on race When the heat and sun is trying to bake cookies. Why hate on size When Africa and Australia seem to be cool how they are. We hate change But we didn’t hate when the continents walked away to be alone So why hate the differences in society or do you Hate the world too.