Then and Now Poetry Contest

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Who is ready for a poetry competition!?!? From November 16th to the end of November 20th, the 'Then and Now' poetry competition will be open. What exactly is the competition? Glad you asked. For this competition, participants will take a line from a previous poem that they have written and consider to be 'old'. Ideally, this would be the first poem you posted on YWS, but it is okay if you want to select a different one as well.

You will take this line from the old poem, then write a totally new poem! Hence why this is called Then (a line from an old poem) and Now (a bunch of new lines you will write this birthday week). Once you have written your poem, please submit it in a spoiler here. If your 'old' poem is available on YWS, please share a link to that as well. Poems will be judged by a team of YWS mods and the winner and participants will receive some awesome badges :D

Winners will be decided based on the poem's ability to capture the theme of growth, reflection, and community, as well as include at least one line of old poetry, as we celebrate this YWS birthday milestone. There is no length minimum or maximum, or specific style of poetry you must follow. Bonus points will go to visual or spoken poems! Please also include trigger warnings for sensitive topics and any poems that use AI will immediately be disqualified.

Post your poems below. Can't wait to read them!!
Who's to say that my light is better than your darkness? Who's to say death is better than your darkness? Who am I to say?

Was AilahEvelynMae
and is now EllieMae :)




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here is mine! it includes a line from this poem posted on yws-- the pain of falling in love
Spoiler

i drifted through my life
a bit like that branch in the creek, yet
nobody saw. they mistook my ghost for my reality.
thought it best to leave me back in the lake,
kicking my legs along the dock like i'm some
little girl in those indie movies my parents used to watch.

but i'm not that little girl anymore,
coloring sky-blue into magenta--
my crayons have been switched for highlighters
and i try to erase my past but i just can't.
the tiled floor seems to swallow me up with every step i take.

i wrote myself into oblivion and attempted to forget
but the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling
seem to disagree on my choices--
i get close but never can reach them,
so i guess they'll have to stay.

spent so long rejecting my own mind,
dashing off letters to the people i thought
left me in the ashes, because
speaking is a bit hard nowadays when i never know
what to stay, what to feel, how to convince myself i'm real.

i'm no longer the girl in the indie movies
kicking her feet at the dock, but that doesn't mean i'm better,
it just means i'm a little more lost.
like the stars chase the sun




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collection of poems.
contains a line from "wilting" sob

tw// death, mentions of death, celebration of death
Spoiler

somehow i still feel you with me, your unmistakable
laugh and that one vaugely familiar ashen scent that
only you had. the patches of grass that we walked through
are now replaced by cold harsh concrete and gravel.

but your favorite plant is now a tree; you told me this
would happen and i never realized you meant that it
would outlive you. i took a leaf off it and watched it blow
away past me in the breeze. i don't think i can look back
from here without becoming solemn.

the last moment of you is boisterous, laughable how death
brings people together more than life; memorializing loss
as some unknown soverign, we look at your photos and
laugh at the fact we celebrate someone who died.

celebration, for the longest time, has been about memorializing.
birthdays memorialize the past, graduation memorializes the
hope, retirement memorializes the actions of a husk of oneself;
funerals memorialize the dead, therefore it celebrates.

you are ever closer to someone who is dead than you are to
them when they are living. recconecting with them is like
watching a plant grow to become- and becoming is the
strongest force out there. it is irrevocable but beautiful,
imminent yet fleeting, both living and dying.

your ashtray is getting cold now, our tree is shedding itself;
the world has felt a lot lighter without you. i celebrate and
mourn my loss.
[soon, i will submit myself to the stars]



See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451