2015"Poetry for Change"

2nd Annual

Young Adult (12-17) Alexa CampbellLaurel County

“Dreaming of Nightmares”

In the dark of her room,She lay a gentle narrow path,Her dreams calm and sweet,Forgiving her for the last nightmare.

In her slumber there was a man,A man with quite the cheery disposition,He stood at the top of the hill,Where his smile seemed to fade away.

Once she reached the top of the hill,Her look of wonder turned devastation,She saw there that the man was not standing,But hanging.

She screamed, though no one could hear her,Lying on the ground squirming,Then at a moment she realized no one cared,There her dream turned nightmare.

Benjamin KingRockcastle County

“The Archer”

The crowd grew silent as night when the archer took his place on the line. He drew a dark blue arrow from his quiver as he knocked it into his cherry red bow. The archer held his breath silently as he drew his bow back with rough Calloused fingers. Aiming at the target focused he thought about all of his training. He took a breath and released.

Alexis LongLaurel County

“My Teacher”

“Dreams are only real if you make them”,A friend had once told me;Before she slipped her way out,If only I went with her.

Only possession I had of her,A memory stored in a tiny, glass bottle;Brittle and Soft.What will become of her in Heaven?

She didn’t know that the world had changed,Drugs. Sex. Violence. Money.

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All the Love, Happiness, and Peace;Slipped away just as she did.

Our dreams turned into nightmares,Monsters under our beds and hidden in closets;Have turned into our worst fears.Where they crept inside of our heads.

The ugly truth remains,Beside her bottle of memories,And what was left of my innocence,At least, she taught me well.

She taught me to be gentle.Kindness, Patience, and Bliss.A key in which to get by in this world;But only if you succeed.

Many have failed; many have passed.Either take the world by the horns,Or let the Bull run you down.We all have a choice.

I sat under the sycamore,Smothered by the ash and the sun,Holding onto her bottle, As if I were hugging her.

I pop open the cork,Dig into the Earth with fragile hands As I empty the rose seeds into the loose soil,‘To the rarest in this Ever-changing world.’

Taylor MaggardJackson County

“Change the World”

All around us there are so manyWho have few friends, if they have anyBecause of the different way they look or actWe give harsh judgment and turn our backJust think of how many things could changeIf all our priorities should be rearranged Putting the cares of others before our ownAnd helping those who are all aloneSo to what people think of you, don’t give a careFor the ones who are different make friends beyond compareJust give a smile and a few cheerful wordsAnd you could somehow change the world.

Sarah QuinlanWhitley County “When the Peace Bells Ring”

In our world of darknessWho will be the one to shine a light?

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When our people are blindWho will be the one to heal them?

When the peace bells ring And we join togetherThat is when we will Truly be free, and the light will comeWe will stand hand in handWith hope in our hearts again

When the peace bells ringWhen we lay down pour weaponsWhether they be guns or words,That is when our safety will returnSmiles will be brighter Burdens will be lighter.

When our fighting stopsOur wounds can be bandagedWhen we join again as one nation,That is when the peace bells will ring.

Lacy SearlesWhitley County

“For Anyone Who’s Willing to Listen...”

It’s so hard,Knowing one of our boys left...That he needed out so bad...I don’t like seeing the ones I love in pain,I don’t know what to do.So I feel like something’s missing,And I believe it went with him...We might not know the whole story,But we do love him more than anything...So, for anyone who’s willing to listen,I’ll not put my last ones in pain.I’ll keep them close,And him closer.I know it wasn’t my fault,But it feels like it is.I feel like I should have done something,But I don’t know what...So, again,For anyone who’s willing to listen,Please tell me what’s wrong.I’ll listen just as close,I’ll try my best.I’ll remember my sisters,The ones we lost this day....And I’ll keep listening to them,I’ll listen for the pain,Like I should have done with him,With them...And I hope others do the same...I can’t go through their pain,Not again...

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Loki SearlesWhitley County

“At 17 and 7 Months”

When I awaken in that pale morning,When my mouth is dry,And my neck is bent,I peel the darkness from each eye,And stretch my heart’s contempt.

When I raise and hear my joints set in,When my kneecaps crack,And my spine is popped,I hear lost whispers whisper back,And leave my heart unlocked.

When I feel that lust for the coffee,When it fills my lungs,And it guides my nose,I know it thaws my frigid tongue,And drowns that old, mean crow.

Poppy SpradlinLaurel County

“Nighttime”

The stars are lightning bugs glowing in the skyThey twinkle and shine, putting on a show for all to seeDazzling!

Swimming around to create shapes and puzzlesThey occupy the sky like flowers occupy a meadow “Oh wonderful stars, how I wish you never left the sky!”The moon is a security guard watching over the worldIt shines across the yard creating dark shadowsGleaming!

Luminating light so we can find our way aroundIt is like a volleyball rolling across the sky “Dear moon, you brighten my nights so greatly!”The wind is a cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer day It rustles the dark leaves on the treesRefreshing!

Kissing our warm cheeks as we step into the night It is like a teacher giving us a free day, making everyone smile“Oh regenerating wind, blow on until the sun awakens the sky!”The clouds are shields defending the bright stars They scurry across the sky as the wind blows them onInfatuating!

Hiding the silvery moon from our wondering gazeThey are like a giant blanket covering the sky“Dear clouds, I love the beautiful shapes you make!”

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Adult (18+)Pearl E. AndersonLaurel County

“Becoming”

The years have rolled byHours into days into monthsContinuous rotation from soft sunrisesTo¬ brilliant sunsets on the western horizonOn and on year upon yearUntil this tall, slender, white femaleHas become an elder, a senior citizenOr, an old woman; I prefer an elder lady—

With pace slowing from a cheetah to a kitty catBut, with mental acuity sharp as a razor;Though the thought processes have changedFrom policy and procedure to poetry and prose –“The purposes is to identify” becomes‘Love likened to soft velvet”I’m glad God stopped me from working and said,“This is what I want you to do now.”

Oh, that my tongue was that of a skilled writer* Or, that my hand could express what my heart thinks,How blessed to look at life retrospectivelyAnd see life’s puzzle gradually coming in placeBut, still have the sweet wonderment Of what is yet to be while inhaling the present;An elder lady with lifetime developed refinementCombined with a sense of contentment

It is better to be settled in later yearsThan the flitting from hither to the yonOf youth scrambling for meaningfulness Though that is not true for all youth or all elders;Searching in crooks and cranniesWiping away the cobwebs of lifeLooking for what may have been orRidding the what was and won’t go away

Rainbows, sunrises, sunsets, gentle rainsAdd visual flavor and meaningAs the tall and slender becomes bentAnd hair turns to silver—Children rise up to call mother’s blessed;Sunrise to sunset day upon dayContinually rotating in God’s beautyFrom dawn to dusk until eternity

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Hailey BechWhitley County

“Dream”

Always dream above a trickleSmall ones never thunderStand,look,shiver and flyInto the skin you want Wander about wild grassTear through the roof

Michael BloomingburgWhitley County

“In These Hills”

There are ice sculptures in these hills,The kind of complexities that make the young feel old.Cigarettes and coal paint the colors of my childhood like whiteLines bleeding down the highway.In these hills, the heart is an eastern redbud With too few branches to measure.In these hills, the mountains are the worn change of generations.The blue hewn of broken promises and soot stained facesPresent no barrier to the cries of “Holy, Holy” And the echoes of entanglements worse than death.In these hills, the hard hats and hopeless reveries ease downThe back roads of the dispirited soul.The whip-poor-wills warn of fates worse than Calloused hands and cornered heartaches.In these hills, the fallen leaves bury the backdrop Of bluegrass and bourbon—I am home.

Ryan CornettClay County

“The Call”

Would you call me brotherOr cousin or son?Is our blood so dissimilarThat we cannot coexist inLiving, breathingHarmony?

From communities to inhabitantsOf the same zip code,Neighbors to acquaintancesTo strangers we go.We to I.Us to me, mine, my.

This is not yet a wasteland,But a wasted land.Not yet a cacophony,Although chaos rings loud.For there is a voice on the horizon,

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Distant, soft, suffering.

Music descending to the ears of the hopeful,Noise soaring to the ears of the beast.It is a call,A call to me, you, us:Wake up from this realityAnd dream again.

Jean Marie DurhamLaurel County

“A Mother’s Love”

My life has been blessed in so many ways;Even during the down times, which I have experienced on so many days.

Since the beginning of my life, you laid a foundation where I could stand firm;Even if life’s experiences were merely a lesson to be learned.

No matter what card in life I was dealt by fate;I could always count on your moral support without any wait.

Your unconditional Love that I was given throughout all of my years;Has given me the strength to overcome all of my fears.

I can not imagine who I would have become, if not for you;For your love has always remained forever strong and true..

Being a Mother is the toughest job that life may bring;And for a job well done, I feel you should wear the crown fit for a Queen!

BJ EdwardsWhitley County

“Poetry Power”

Words Written, recited, rapped, sungChisel and chip away the granite Of how things have always been done.Change, An ever present needCan come about through words we heed.Michael looked in the mirrorAnd declared it started with him.John imagined all the peopleAnd wrote his hymn.Martin spoke and millionsWere inspired to overcome.Maya, dear MayaHer words move everyone.And ah, the Psalmist of oldIn poetic and sonorous toneGives sweet blessing to every soul.Humans learned to speak wordsAnd poetry beganA powerful toolTo effect change in man.

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JW ErwinRockcastle County

“Dream Window”

I sit silent in a hollow room,Overpopulated by zealous thoughts.It makes me feel crowded,Like I need to run and hide, butHow can I run from room with no doors?

Just a window.My window of hope..No running, just looking,At what could be.

There’s only one way out; By lifting the windowA little more every day.

For, one dayI will no longer be lookingThrough the glass of dreams,But at the dreams themselves.

Then all that will be left to doWill be to jump into them.Everyday seems to be a struggleWhen I try to lift the window.

So, I’ll keep my head upAnd my eyes forward.For ahead my dreams are realities.

Jackie GilpinLaurel County

“The Hope for the World”

Crime in all the world abounds.In every nation we hear the soundsOf people suffering everywhere. Many feeling like no one cares.

Broken homes continually increasesLeaving hearts broken in pieces.Alcohol, drugs, and lust lead to thingsLike abuse and trafficking. Such suffering it brings.

There is a change that needs to be.What is that change? Can we see?There was a day I needed hope;With my life I could not cope.

I could not even change myself.I knew I needed someone else.My bitter heart was lonely inside;From my fearful fate I could no longer hide.

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Then one day I met someoneWho gave me hope where there was none.He fixed the things I could not change.He gave me healing where there with pain.

He took my bitterness and fear.His loving whispers I could now hear.My heart was filled with joy and loveAnd peace that only comes from above.

The man I met was Jesus Christ.He took my life and made it right.He died for me to set me free,But He did not do it just for me.

He did it for every boy and girl.He did it because He loved the world.He was tortured and finally died on the cross.He took the punishment so no one would be lost.

So eternally they could be in heaven with Him,If they would only forsake their sin.He would heal all of their hurt and pain.He would give them sunshine for the rain.

He would take their anger and violence,If they would just turn to him and repent.So in my conclusion I hope that you seeJesus is the answer for the change that we need.

Lilian HeltonLaurel County

“Legacy Long Forgotten”

The difference between then and nowIs separate as night and dayThey were habitual and long establishedWe always try to find a new way

They had respect, earned what they hadNo wasted resources or squandered timeWe expect things at the click of a mouse, feel we’re owedNo punishment with the crime

Life was pleasantly simple; take one thing, do it right!Instead of: How much and how fast can I get done today?Family time was a must and not forced; we loved each other!Now we’re too selfish to find a way

With the Great Depression and two World WarsEducation seemed just a dreamToday it’s expected and we focus on being diverseWasn’t accepting everyone’s hope of work, love, and success the same thing?

Back then they wanted to be the heroesWhen the only phone was at home and mail was snail slowThey wanted a better life for everyone

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For an opportunity to grow

They worked to build a legacyTo let choice and freedom ringWe should continue to make that meaningful!Make their struggle worthwhile and mean something!

In our present age of entitlement and rushMaybe we should slow down and think?About their legacy long forgotten and abusedAnd renew it before we blink

We should remember there’s a difference Between the traditional and the nowNot one of outdated and slowBut back to basics of who taught us howThen from there, we should go

Time will keep ticking and new days will dawnWith possibilities beyond what we seeDon’t let their work be in vain; let them know they achieved their goalThrough his legacy, Grandpa was a hero to me.

Jennifer MarshLaurel County

“1968”

Upheaval, Innocence

Social turbulence, Children laughing

Vietnam, My neighborhood

Army fatigues, Sears cotton dresses with knee socks

The smell of Napalm, The smell of crayons

The taste of alcohol and drugs, The taste of Dairy Queen

“Incoming!”, “Ally ally in come free!”

The Armies of the Night by Norman Mailer, Tikki Tikki Tembo by Arlene Mosel

“Helter Skelter” by The Beatles, “Yummy Yummy Yummy” by the Ohio Express

CBS evening news with Walter Cronkite, Captain Kangaroo

Closer to walking on the moon,

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Closer to walking to school by myself

Assassinations, Childhood friendships

Protests in the streets, Kickball in the streets

LBJ, then Nixon,Kindergarten, then 1st grade

A country sees itself Becomes cynical,I see the worldAnd become me.

Jeremy McQueenPulaski County

“Syllabic Revolution”

If words were prevailing regal decrees,Each syllable dripping with casual ease,Demanding their transcendent will be done,Perhaps changes would arise with the sun;

Busy peasants might be proudly living,Rightly cherished for arduous giving,Blithely yielding when society calls,Possibly secure from lower class falls.

If stanzas were ballots sanguinely cast,Thoughtful critiques for a deficient past,Electing fairness with model intent,Conceivably choosing deserved ascent;

Gender disparity could disappear,Archaic ignorance berthed from male fear,Allowing mutual respect to reign,Expectably cleansing a worldwide stain.

If novels were epic sacrifices,Porous pages as printed devices,Begging humanity for equal claim,Feasibly adjusting an errant frame;

Pigment dare not negatively hinder,Diverse fruits anxiously ripe to render,Eagerly engaging with fixed fervor,Finally unchained as devout server.

If lyrics were harmonious protests,Compilations sang as lasting bequests,Imploring courts for orientations,Plausibly inducting all creations;

Legal unions not opposed with blind hate,Public hearts shedding their malicious state,Reviving global community hope,

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Likely widening our restricted scope.

If syllables were only spoken sounds,Mere fragments of influential compounds,Unwritten to encourage the masses,Maybe time for revolution passes;

Words fortunately invoke high spirits,Soaked in emotions that sustain merits,Corralling the populous to act now,Certainly defining what we’ll allow.

Layne PartinWhitley County

“Conclusion”

If not for this, then surely thatWould be within my reachRising and falling, callingAs oceans do a beach

If not for that, then surely thisWould be within my graspComing and going, knowingThat it could never last

If not for these, then surely thoseWouldn’t be too much to askTossing and turning, burningUntil there’s nothing left but ash

If not for those, then surely theseWould be my final rewardLaughing and crying, dyingBy the occasional sword

If not for failure, surely successWill be the end resultHeaven and earth, a churchAnd all my words a cult

Brandon PattersonLaurel

“Conscious, Conscious”

Flames, flames tossed in an endless nothingnessThree daughters chase up a summer hill, dauntlessly teasing the Earth,Trees move, shadow dancers in the stirring forestTo begin is an impossibility, you cannot take back an end times birth.

Life, life without a consciousness will flourishThree daughters will perish, another grain of soil for the Earth,You cannot tell a river not to flow, that is all it knows to doA creature aware will fight for the sum it is worth.

Light, light filling the great expanses of the wild

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To go quietly, in the stillest of nights on Earth,The greatest of rare flowers will bloom, growing among a forgotten homeAn end to the conscious creatures is to be met with immeasurable mirth.

John RadeckiLaurel County

“Versifiers”

Listen.....A poet’s poemRhythm and rhymePoet’s mind meanders like mystic wanderersMolding verses from realties and dreamsWords penned, simple or complex Words expressing ideas and idealsWords shiftless as grains of sandExplainers of their inner thoughtsFrom unceasing restlessness to real timeThey write and recite for allEven natures callYet, they pen Of love and lustOf death and mournersOh! A poet’s mind wandersHow they spin wanting wordsSo clear, so pureThat allSeeks to want and wishDubious dreamsTheir heartsMust be of natures kindFor they conceive in solitude and intrigueRepertoire of wordy fiddlesticksPen what they desire and phantomThe beginning.....LifeNever ending experiencesThe end.....DeathThis, their written watchwordWord a versifiers swordSo be itPlanting perceptionsTending expressions

Harvesting words. As if forbidden fruit,From their poet’s tree.

Edward RhodesLaurel County

“Pets”

In our lives we have a lot of changeSome we don’t understand just yetBut the one thing that is certainAll have that one very special pet.

For me her name was ShadowWho gave me both her friendship and love

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And now that she has passed awayI know that she is in heaven above

But even with her passingThere will be an emptiness in my heartA loss that will always be thereLike her love from the very start.

Yet you try to find that one thingThat in time will help to ease your painAnd somehow down the roadYou find both comfort and gain.

So to change the way how you feelIs sometimes like taking a betFor you try to find that one thingYou find it in a new pet.

For they can’t take away the memoriesThe special one you lostBut they will still give you their loveNo matter what the cost

You will still feel the sadnessFor the one that passed awayBut somehow the newer petBrings a different kind of happiness each day

So find that very special one just as I didAnd make yourself a new friendFor the love and friendship you share with themWill be there with the both of you till the very end.

Rest in Peace ShadowI miss you a lot.

Phyllis RobinsonClay County

“The New Lynching”

We have come a long way - first Black President, truly African AmericanNot descended from slavesAncestral line unstained by forced congress with a white slave ownerWe think we are changed in beautiful America

Surely a long way from 1939 and Billie Holliday singing “Strange Fruit”Song of the Century prompted by a postcardPostcard of a Marion, Indiana lynching of two Black men

Strange Fruit echoed in an Oklahoma frat song Hanging them high by the neck, from Southern and not so Southern treesSmell the honeysuckle in the woods as the mob sweats and strainsDifficult to hang a struggling Black manOr If he dared to runHis woman and children became the fruitThen the smellOh, the smell of teaching the lessonUntil the slow carrion crows came

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Plucking the bulging eyes first

Simpler, cleaner to shoot themSafer for the shooterEspecially if the fruit is unarmed and youngBrown, black bodies lying in the street - the new strange fruitShooting unarmed African Americans, Latinos is the new lynching

Roxanna RobinsonLaurel County

“The Reach of Your Hand”

Chains of compassion, chains of truth.I’m longing in life, to know what to do.I feel like I’m running, from here to there.I wonder, when will anyone ever truly care?About the choices in life that we must make.How much love do we give?How much sorrow must we take?We’re not thankful enough for the things that we’ve got,We worry over needless things and what not.We can’t always see the beauty, because of all the pain,We go along in life worrying about what’s to gain.Life isn’t measured by the treasure’s we have here on earth,We need to quit worrying about how much we are worth.We should live every day as if it was our last,Give thanks for our blessings,and quit living in the past.Love while you can, and hold everyone close,Because life is but a vapor, and we never really know.When we will take our very last step,When we will breath our very last breathe.I fall on my knee’s with a humbled heart,And I pray Dear God, please let me start.Living my life so that it’s pleasing to you,Giving thanks for all I have and all that You do.Help me to remember that when life gets to hard to stand,I just need to fall on my knees, reach out, and take your awaiting hand.

Catherine RubyLaurel County

“Father”

When I was young my father cameAnd drew the world for me.His paints were words, his colors, love,And all the joys I’d seeOf make-believe and fairy-land,And laughter ringing free;The fantasies of kings and queensMade ‘specially for me.

But as I grew, somehow he changed--Or maybe it was me;The joy and laughter faded nowAnd all his faults I’d seeOf weakness, fear, and failure, too--

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His strengths had ceased to be,And in their place, somehow, I drewA sketch of frailty.The world, for me a transient placeOf hopes destroyed by pain,Would puzzle that same father whoHad smiled away the rain.

But somehow, over time, he knew,Those childhood dreams he wove,Would come again to set me free,Reveal that light of love;I’d revel in the joy I’d see--The laughter that could be. And all because my father drew . . . A fairy world for me.

Arlo SharpWhitley County

“When Three Shall Walk”

When three shall walk across the midnight sky,And all the world abed in dreams doth lie,‘Twill be the night the race of man shall die.

In blood and bile, in brain and battered bone,By horrors rarely seen, by fears unknown,Forever shall man’s sons his ways disown.

The dog no longer shall be man’s best friend;His fangs shall rip man’s flesh; his nails shall rend.Their curse shall wicked elder demons send.

In chill of winter shall that dread doom fall,As men upon their powerless gods shall call,A darkling shroud of death shall drape o’er all.

Don SmithLaurel County

“My Appalachian Girl”

She comes from the meandering waters of Straight Creek in Harlan County,A young lady whose feet ran between the weathered worn stones of the stream. At the base of Pine Mountain’s evergreens, at the feet of her grandmother she learn the ancient craft of using her hands to design images of her visions, and she developed her determination to overcome all challengers to come, my Appalachian girl.

Life has been like a ride over the mountain for her,Twisting along the broken surface as she leaves her home,Hugging the road as she climbs to face the steep crevice below,Undaunted by voices of doubt and her own inner fear,She receives the reward of knowledge that speaks of many to come,My Appalachian Girl.

Forsaking the isolation of the primitive barriers of the land,

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She traversed the narrow paths to the center of the bluegrass,Laying new roots and sharing her dreams with the Unwanted young, accepting the fresh summons to unfold her inner strength, creating unique dexterities to subdue unwanted reproach, My Appalachian Girl.

Through the unwanted sorrows casted upon her she has Endured, establishing a wealth of supportive relationships to enable the downcast, feeling their need while defeating Overwhelming thrusts directed toward her, she glides along new roads with hope for a continued expansion of her dreams,My Appalachian Girl.

Brandon ThorpeLaurel County

“Little Lion, Wait With Me”

She had outlived the deadline the doctors gave her,But she could feel it in her bones waitingLike a lion to take it’s chance.Her son came around more, around noon and sat onHer bedside looking at photos and telling stories.The nurse warned her to keep her pills hidden.If they kept disappearing she would lose them.So she did, under her pillow.Her son stopped coming over and she looked atPhotos alone now, waiting for the end.She put the pills back and called him,Cringing while she hintedHer medicine was back. And he came back, every day.She forgave himAnd they waited together.

Henry WilhoitLaurel County

“Life as I see it”

My life’s had it’s changes,As I’ve lived out my years.I’ve has lots of happinessWith a fair share of tears.

My father protected me.Mom comforted me with song.They raised me to do What was right, not wrong.

I went through my school years.I endured all the strife,So I could gain knowledge, That would help me in life..

Then I met a young lady,Who brought me such joy.Who’s wisdom and love,

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Made a made of a boy.

I found joy in marriage.Then a gift from God above,Brought to our lives children,Who we taught how to love.

We taught them to live right,In sunshine and rain.Through good times and bad.Through laughter and pain.

And even through all of our Trouble and strife.One thing is for certain.We’ve lived a good life.

We spent it with those, That we cherished and taughtSo just for this reason,I offer this thought.

For those starting out, As once did I.Be aware; you will laugh.At times you will cry.

Show love to your neighbor,As God the Father loves you.To your family and friends,You should always stay true.

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Poetry Contest Participants:

Adult:

Pearl E. AndersonHailey BeckMichael BloomingburgRyan CornettJean Marie DurhamBJ Edwards JW ErwinJackie GilpinLilian HeltonJennifer MarshJeremy McQueenLayne PartinBrandon PattersonJohn RadeckiEdward RhodesPhyllis RobinsonRoxanna RobinsonCatherine RubyDon SmithArlo SharpBrandon ThorpeHenry Wilhoit

Young Adult:

Alexa CampbellBenjamin KingAlexis LongTaylor MaggardSarah QuinlanLacy SearlesLoki SearlesPoppy Spradlin