Spring Poetry Festival Winners

The man, he stares, not in terror or fear
but in longing at the ghosts that surround him.
Erupting with each bloom those no longer here
beg for solace as they scream, and they crowd him.
Their spectral nails draw marks on the wood,
their cries fill the halls with a sharp shrill tone
he yearns to join them, quite compelled that he should
he desires no longer to play all alone.

Waves of liquid silk embrace the sandy shore,
As the tide dances with the blazing horizon
And the sun’s ball of fire burns out.
The blushing sea falls dark, and Poseidon returns to his slumber.
Nature’s grand finale comes to an end,
And the coastal symphony draws to a close.
The sun bids farewell and the stars awaken.

Chemical balance creating a high,
Feelings heightened.
Senses overwhelmed with excitement,
Body and mind failingly dissatisfied,
Not knowing…

The alternative…
What nothing feels like?
No pressure of success,
But the world
Sitting on your shoulders,
Resting,
Resting,
Seemingly forever,

Forgetting what endorphins feel like,
Sitting.
No soreness
Or exhaustion
No losing
But no winning.

Look out for the lover boy,
He nudges your side and smiles at your mother
And brother. How charming.
Such a perfect prince for her darling princess.
Frogs have bright blue eyes too.

All I can see now are the problems
That rose-coloured glasses dismiss.
Red heart. Red flag. Bleeding.
Other people can’t see what I see
And I worry I’m too cynical.

next: souvenirs of keychains marred by roughened hands,
fashionable caps christened with a child’s careful crease
and a few dollars’ wage for the day, concealed by
empty ethicality promises and slashed prices –
oh how appealing it is! to ignore the silent screams of
seamstresses in flashy shirts holding both the sentiment of holiday and needless labour.
shopping by the bayside –

what will awaken the blissfully ignorant masses?