On Wednesday, 11th July, the Leonardo Poetry Competition will take place in the Memorial Library at PGS. Here are the poems by the Year 9 finalists.
With Eyes That Scream
With eyes that scream that dynamic shade of blue
And lips with that red-pink, and a distant smile
That tints every story with a giggle
And a secret little whisper
I want so desperately to be mine,
How do I not?
How do I not stumble after this
Paralysing theft of my breath?
How do I dampen this bubbling fury
Of heat hastening through my blood
And the dizzying appeal that
Clouds and drowns my brain?
And how do I wrestle back
To that plot I traced out
So easily in juvenile oblivion
Before her?
And should I start asking why?
Why bother going so far off the script?
But, then again,
Why bother limping, gawking,
Back to it?
And I know that one day I’ll
Surrender to that face
And all the others,
And surrender to the world
That will shake its head
And throw its diatribes.
But not now.
Because now I’m busy
As I salvage my breath.
Lucy Albuery, 9T
New World, Completely My Own
I open a book and in I go,
No one can find me,
I don’t want to be found.
I’m in a new house, room and chair,
I’m in a new world,
Completely my own.
I’m immersed in the pages
Sharing feelings of shock, horror and delight,
I’ve found new people
New friends, new family.
I follow them along the road,
Over the bumps, around the bends,
Shared their laughter, their tears,
Comforted them but they can’t hear me.
In times of need
I refer back to the pages,
They take me home,
To place I know.
But all good things must come to an end,
So I close my book and come back out
To the same old house, room and chair,
Nothing has changed,
But I wish I was back there.
Ishbel Duncan, 9U
This Face
Every day, I have to put this face on.
Since day one, I have been trained,
Trained to put this face on.
I was taught that this was the face of a soldier.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face prepares me for what’s ahead.
It prepares me for what I have been trained to do.
I was taught this was a face that progressed.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face makes me into an actor,
Someone I’m not, emotions I don’t have.
This face changes me into someone they want to watch.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face makes me a machine,
A ruthless killing machine, robotic like,
This face hides emotions I want to show.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
Today, this was the face I put on.
Today, hundreds will fall with this face on.
This face will take lives.
Oliver Kettle, 9V
Missing
I am whisked away into a sea of thought.
I have no sense of direction any more,
I am lost, not knowing who I am,
Who I once was, and where I am.
An empty heart shrinks inside me.
I travel along my winding way,
Letting the water guide me.
It brings back old memories
Of my continuous mourning
That brought me here, into the shadows.
Distant shouts and screams ring in my head.
Familiar voices I catch: they are trying to get in.
But something won’t let them.
I need something more,
I tell myself.
Continuing down my winding way,
I reach a bend, a familiar bend,
One I once saw before.
I see an image, clear, in front of me,
A person, no, a boy: he seems so close
Yet again so far away.
He struggles in the water, he is helpless,
But a hand reaches out in hope,
In hope of helping this boy.
I feel this hand, its essence is here
And it’s reaching out for me!
I realise now why I am here,
To find what has been missing: Me.
Charlotte Despard, 9X
Scared
She walks beside the frozen sea the gulls cry loud and clear.
Her heart beats faster, as the fear takes control of her actions.
Contemplating what to do next she sits on the lonely bench.
The solemn magpie, that sat so near, flies back to his lookout post
Asking herself again: what is my purpose here?
The starlings fly overhead, the springtime is almost here.
Regrets from her past haunt her thoughts simple yet depressing.
The sparrows chirp as the sun slowly begins setting.
Effervescent anger ripples through her as thought of her past come back.
The goldfinch and the blackbird continue on their trek.
Desperate cries disturb her sleep as the starry nights commence.
The sparrow with its dappled wings sings softly from its nest.
Stephanie Wade, 9X
Four Views of a Face
His dignified yet hollow eyes glare into the past,
The wrinkles aggressively etched to form a perfect map
On a withered desert rock, foreshadowing what’s to come.
A smooth wave tumbles down his forehead,
Muffling the sounds of gunshots and bombs
That still echo through his busy, troubled mind.
But he is still proud.
He remembers the day he walked among his fellow comrades,
Heads held high.
The eyes that had witnessed such horrors
Were proudly staring into the murky, soupy sky.
A crooked mouth perches upon a hazardous cliff
And hangs on with all the strength it can muster.
It is confused,
Unsure what emotion to display.
A face is looking at you,
Staring at you,
Deciphering your body language like a code.
Will Hartridge, 9Z
With Eyes That Scream
With eyes that scream that dynamic shade of blue
And lips with that red-pink, and a distant smile
That tints every story with a giggle
And a secret little whisper
I want so desperately to be mine,
How do I not?
How do I not stumble after this
Paralysing theft of my breath?
How do I dampen this bubbling fury
Of heat hastening through my blood
And the dizzying appeal that
Clouds and drowns my brain?
And how do I wrestle back
To that plot I traced out
So easily in juvenile oblivion
Before her?
And should I start asking why?
Why bother going so far off the script?
But, then again,
Why bother limping, gawking,
Back to it?
And I know that one day I’ll
Surrender to that face
And all the others,
And surrender to the world
That will shake its head
And throw its diatribes.
But not now.
Because now I’m busy
As I salvage my breath.
Lucy Albuery, 9T
New World, Completely My Own
I open a book and in I go,
No one can find me,
I don’t want to be found.
I’m in a new house, room and chair,
I’m in a new world,
Completely my own.
I’m immersed in the pages
Sharing feelings of shock, horror and delight,
I’ve found new people
New friends, new family.
I follow them along the road,
Over the bumps, around the bends,
Shared their laughter, their tears,
Comforted them but they can’t hear me.
In times of need
I refer back to the pages,
They take me home,
To place I know.
But all good things must come to an end,
So I close my book and come back out
To the same old house, room and chair,
Nothing has changed,
But I wish I was back there.
Ishbel Duncan, 9U
This Face
Every day, I have to put this face on.
Since day one, I have been trained,
Trained to put this face on.
I was taught that this was the face of a soldier.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face prepares me for what’s ahead.
It prepares me for what I have been trained to do.
I was taught this was a face that progressed.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face makes me into an actor,
Someone I’m not, emotions I don’t have.
This face changes me into someone they want to watch.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
This face makes me a machine,
A ruthless killing machine, robotic like,
This face hides emotions I want to show.
Every day, I have to put this face on.
Today, this was the face I put on.
Today, hundreds will fall with this face on.
This face will take lives.
Oliver Kettle, 9V
Missing
I am whisked away into a sea of thought.
I have no sense of direction any more,
I am lost, not knowing who I am,
Who I once was, and where I am.
An empty heart shrinks inside me.
I travel along my winding way,
Letting the water guide me.
It brings back old memories
Of my continuous mourning
That brought me here, into the shadows.
Distant shouts and screams ring in my head.
Familiar voices I catch: they are trying to get in.
But something won’t let them.
I need something more,
I tell myself.
Continuing down my winding way,
I reach a bend, a familiar bend,
One I once saw before.
I see an image, clear, in front of me,
A person, no, a boy: he seems so close
Yet again so far away.
He struggles in the water, he is helpless,
But a hand reaches out in hope,
In hope of helping this boy.
I feel this hand, its essence is here
And it’s reaching out for me!
I realise now why I am here,
To find what has been missing: Me.
Charlotte Despard, 9X
Scared
She walks beside the frozen sea the gulls cry loud and clear.
Her heart beats faster, as the fear takes control of her actions.
Contemplating what to do next she sits on the lonely bench.
The solemn magpie, that sat so near, flies back to his lookout post
Asking herself again: what is my purpose here?
The starlings fly overhead, the springtime is almost here.
Regrets from her past haunt her thoughts simple yet depressing.
The sparrows chirp as the sun slowly begins setting.
Effervescent anger ripples through her as thought of her past come back.
The goldfinch and the blackbird continue on their trek.
Desperate cries disturb her sleep as the starry nights commence.
The sparrow with its dappled wings sings softly from its nest.
Stephanie Wade, 9X
Four Views of a Face
His dignified yet hollow eyes glare into the past,
The wrinkles aggressively etched to form a perfect map
On a withered desert rock, foreshadowing what’s to come.
A smooth wave tumbles down his forehead,
Muffling the sounds of gunshots and bombs
That still echo through his busy, troubled mind.
But he is still proud.
He remembers the day he walked among his fellow comrades,
Heads held high.
The eyes that had witnessed such horrors
Were proudly staring into the murky, soupy sky.
A crooked mouth perches upon a hazardous cliff
And hangs on with all the strength it can muster.
It is confused,
Unsure what emotion to display.
A face is looking at you,
Staring at you,
Deciphering your body language like a code.
Will Hartridge, 9Z
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