Poetry Contest-Winning Selections

April 28, 2011 at 11:25 pm | Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment
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Apology from a Murderer

Please accept my apology, for the man I murdered.

His dream became an odyssey and I allowed him to go no further.

They loved him and I loved his ideals.

“Freedom and peace are within.” He spoke these words with such a zeal.

This man would not kneel, he believed God wanted him to stand.

Deny the fake, reveal what’s real, but what the world would see was an ant.

Still he would rant about love and humanity

He was a reasonable man, but the world heard insanity.

Despising his blasphemous words, he was aligned with the devil.

He was a heathen, a rebel; I felt his passion, his pain, his stab from the metal.

Sharper than any dagger, his heart was his protective armor

An idealistic world is never shattered in the eyes of a martyr.

He demanded to be heard, he spoke of light to be seen.

He showed the darkness of words, and used his blood as his ink.

“A fallen king I am not. A dying brother I am.”

“It is now the people’s spot, to put the world in their hands.”

His last speech, his heart’s final beat.

The man at his feet was the reflection of me.

Staring at myself in a puddle of blood

I caused this man to be stabbed, the one all had so loved.

Antonio Benavides, 1st Place


In the hands of time

In the hands of time,

Lay the answers to your future and mine.

In the hands of time,

Lay the thoughts of a clouded mind.

Time, once given cannot be taken back.

It’s like a path so long towards a one way track.

In the hands of time is where I want to be,

Dropping grains of salt in the open sea.

I cannot help myself to stop and stare,

Wondering of all the things I’ll learn and share.

For now, I think of that moment in time,

Where everything unfolds; and the world is mine.

Ana Saldana, 2nd Place



Where the doors are flung wide open

By the wind and it’s silent whisper

Where the oceans growl your name

In Tongues unbidden from our minds

Where hallowed avis fly, crossing every path,

Granting metaphors to every movement

There’s a time and a place, a no and a yes

And no where between these do we find those truths

Held in faith they hold an empty hand

Anastasia D. Weaver, 3rd Place


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