Secondary: Poetry Contest Winners

ArushaTimes News

April was Poetry Month and here at the secondary campus we ran a contest calling all students to submit their best poem for a chance to win a gift card to Chapters and have their poem featured in the newsletter. A team of staff judges read the poems without knowing the authors. The top poems were awarded to Colette V. (Grade 8) in the Grade 7 to 9 category for her poem Painful Love and Filbert W. (Grade 10) in the Grade 10-12 category for his poem Masterpiece.

I interviewed the winners on their thoughts on poetry:
L: Why did you write this poem?
CV:I like Psalm 23 and I went to a summer camp two years ago so I drew from those two items for a definition of love. Love can never break you if you love God.
FW: I wanted to bring awareness to sexual assault and it’s inspired from a TikTok subcategory on poetry. I was looking through it for inspiration.

L: Does poetry matter? If so, why?
CV: Yes, it is another medium of writing and the more ways to express yourself, the better.
FW: Yes, it allows you to express yourself. It is a form of literature in its own sense. It’s beautiful and calculative to flow very well and get its desired response.

L: Why did you submit to the contest?
CV: I heard it in the announcements and was bored so decided to give it a try.
FW: I thought it was a good idea. I wanted to support it but didn’t think I would win. I wanted the judges to have more to read.
Here are the winning poems for your reading pleasure. Enjoy. Mrs. Loconte

Painful Love
Colette V., 8A

Love is wonderful, love is kind
but love can damage a sensitive mind.
Love can seem safe for a while
but love can drag you for a mile
and not to seem like a downer
but love can often feel like a cold shower.
The only love that’s a pure as fresh snow
is the love that comes from God alone.

Masterpiece (Trigger Warning)
Filbert W., Grade 10
(Listen to “Tom Rosenthal – Light are on Instrumental” for a more immersive experience!)

“You were art.” You told me.
“You will be art once again when I’m done painting you,” You continued.
I’ve always wanted to be art.
Especially if it’s painted by you.

You began, painting purple on my body with your hands.
Different shades of purple splotched in circular formation all over my torsos, legs and arms.
It hurt, I was in pain.
But I’ve always wanted to be art.
Especially if it’s painted by you.

Red strokes came next, this time with a tool on your own.
Long and hard. Painful and sharp.
Lines were painted on my back this time.
I wanted to cry. I felt like I was going to die.
But I’ve always wanted to be art.
Especially if it’s painted by you.

Hands battered on my body in more ways than I could count.
Screams echoed in the room, my cries, my pain.
I begged you to stop, but you kept going and going and going, telling me that this was the only way to become art.