Young Writers Society

#27

don't despair if the earth is failing you:
you can find everything we were
on the galilean moons.
ganymede is when I met you,
when my heart could fit mercury in it
just because of how your lashes curled.
io's volcanic activity burst free
when we loved and it burned red,
lava thrusting out of its core.
europa is the look you would have given me,
had you bothered to look back
when I clenched my fists and withered.
now, you are jupiter and I am callisto -
the fourth and the farthest,
heavily cratered,
with only scraps of your magnetic field.

#28

this is how you got here.
you don't need mountains,
calls of the wild:
swan songs or loveboats
or foundling coins.
you closed your eyes
and inhaled the sparkles
that come to your eyes after
a good glass of prosecco
this is all you need,
and all you are:
strength,
and courage,
and a wonderbra.

#29

I'm tired of the constant self-defense you practice:
there are murals on your façade painted with
words that make pretty people get away with things
effortlessly,
while still dripping wet.
I used to think it was rehearsed, somehow learnt by heart,
and that everyone could achieve it
with enough willpower and sleepless nights,
an occasional coffee. But no, it dawned on me
one day: it is bestowed upon you as a christening gift,
and you will never need to polish it - it will not grow sombre
like inherited silverware.
Those who were given more traditional things,
a piece of jewelry, an animal-shaped rattle, can buy what you have
from a pawn shop and nurture it every day, buff it like italian dress shoes,
but still, their smiles will condemn them while yours will only
release you: blind eyes exist only for the select few.

Demeter, I love that first line of #27 "don't despair if the earth is failing you:" it's intriguing and pulls you right into the rest of the poem where you weave the solar system into this narrative between these two characters. A lovely read.

#30

why is everything
a question?
should not we know exactly - if there's no one to tell us,
should not we know ourselves, without wondering,
and writing books with mostly question marks,
predictable wisdom that is just regular words
arranged like a bouquet of lilies?
who decided this was the truth, what we should strive for?
if you don't know an answer
no one else does either, and still everyone
worries about everyone finding out that they, too,
are ignorant.
there are several truths:
crows, magpies, swans, sparrows.
something for everyone,
and they all have wings.

Congrats on finishing!

I loved 27, because I am a sucker for a good space poem.

Congratulations for finishing! I didn't get a chance to comment much during the month, but so many of these are awesome. To pick just a couple: there's a deep feeling about #9 (is poignant the right word? I'm not sure) that I loved; and I really related to #16 and remembering the little details of a place you have left. (Also #17 made me laugh out loud once I got it, so I'm afraid that has to remain my favourite of the lot )

You write such pretty poems and moving poems. And your imagery is so great! Also, similar to your prose, I love your turn of phrase and the way you structure lines/sentences.

@niteowl, @Cadi, @beckiw - thank you so much for the lovely comments, and it really means a lot to me that people have been reading the stuff that I've written thank you again!!

You finished!

And wrote things like "murals on your facade" so like. Yeah.