Congratulations to Dylan Sneddon (Year 11) and Lara Patterson (Year 10) for their success at The Lit and Phil Young Writers Awards on Wednesday evening. Both were winners in the poetry section. Both poems are listed below.
The Sun and Moon’s Fate
There is an old belief in the Philippines
Of the Sun and the Moon’s heartbreaking love.
When they got married their love was like a dream.
They spent their minutes and hours together,
Until they decided to embark on their next adventure.
They had many beautiful stars
whose skin would shine as they were the perfect mix of bright and unseen.
Unfortunately, the Sun would burn the children when he held them
so the moon would demand him to stop.
One day, the Moon left to collect vegetables from the jungle.
She asked the Sun to guard their sleeping children.
The Sun’s eyes shone brighter than ever as he watched his wonderful stars sleep.
He dreamed more than ever to kiss them goodnight
And disregarding the Moon’s wishes he did just that.
However, the Sun was far too bright
and, as he kissed each of them goodnight,
they tragically melted away into the night.
The Sun felt instant regret and chose to stay hidden.
When the Moon returned to an empty house
she wept at the thought something had taken her dearly beloved.
After some time, the Sun shamefully returned
and revealed the heartbreaking truth to his wife.
Then he and the Moon had a terrible fight.
The Moon got angry and blamed the Sun for their star’s demise,
But the Sun said he just wanted to spread his love.
Yet the Moon still left for good.
The Sun still chases her to this day,
Following her around explaining how he was misunderstood.
But the Moon never stops to listen,
As their love is gone and forgotten.
But if you are to look into the dark sky far away,
You will see the Sun and Moon’s lost-children shining on display.
Lara Patterson
POETRY WINNER – Older Category
The Friends in the Ashes
My friends don’t remember my birthday//no, my friends just smile through birthday cake
covered grins and frosting smeared teeth//my friends don’t own my shade of foundation
nor wear shoes my size//no, my friends wait for me to make more concessions than the
stand at that park they won’t visit anymore//my friends don’t get caught with me
suspended over the porcelain throne, a futile attempt to seem as snatched as they say//no,
my friends whine in jealousy at my concave vessel with their convex personality, their
screams would hurt more inside my warped throat//my friends don’t herd themselves to
the door when i’m not there to show the way//no, my friends consult the map we carved
deep into my arm, just in case//my friends don’t change my cassette tape they’ll listen to
the same story again and again//no, my friends see me as a broken record player humming
the same dulled anthem day after day – too sentimental (or inconvenient) to throw
away//my friends don’t question the skeletons stored in the cellar where you’d expect
wine//no, my friends just drink what they can find and drunkenly disclose my bones in the
corner of a hot pink night club weaselling their way closer to a drug dealer fantasy//my
friends don’t advocate for my place in line when i miss the train home struggling to tear
each strand of hair from my leg in a McDonald’s bathroom//no, my friends forge fist-fights
to decide who funds the next round of vodka//my friends don’t look like friends//no, my
friends are pillows to scream into on nights where the dark is my punching bag and i don’t
want an echo//my friends don’t hear me and i don’t make a sound.
Dylan Sneddon
POETRY RUNNER UP – Older Category