Teen Poetry Contest

Link to the photos of the finalist on flickr

On April 23, 2013, we had the Lee Golomb Cadiff Teen Poetry Contest Awards Ceremony. The finalists did a terrific job of reading their poems. Here is the final standings:

From Swampscott Middle School:
Marina Bron-grade 8 HONORABLE MENTION, Elisa Dunleavy – grade 8 HONORABLE MENTION, Ryan Frauenholz – grade 8 DONOR PRIZE, Stephen Hopkins – grade 8 THIRD PRIZE, Matthew Legere – grade 8 LIBRARY STAFF PRIZE, Juliana Mora- grade 8 RISING STAR, Kiely Quinn – grade 8 HONORABLE MENTION, Nate Ryan – grade 8 SECOND PRIZE, and Jonas Schultz – grade 7 FIRST PRIZE.

From Swampscott High School:
Jessica Fagundo-grade 12 HONORABLE MENTION, Sionna Hopkins-grade 12 HONORABLE MENTION, Michelle LaConte-grade 11 HONORABLE MENTION, Thomas McEnaney-grade 12 FIRST PRIZE, Nora Walker-grade 11 THIRD PRIZE, and Claire Weaver-Zeman-grade 11 SECOND PRIZE.

We also had a special presentation for Thomas McEnaney. Thomas has won first prize every year since 7th grade. Since he is graduating high school, we have “retired his number.” Quite an achievement!

Norma Finn & Thomas McEnaney

SWAMPSCOTT PUBLIC LIBRARY THE 9th LEE GOLOMB CADIFF TEEN POETRY CONTEST

The Teen Poetry Contest is possible through the assistance of Mrs. Norma Cadiff Finn, Friends of the Swampscott Public Library, the Swampscott Middle School and Swampscott High School, and the Tin Box Poets.

Thank you to all the teens who entered such wonderful poems that they made the judges’ task very difficult.

Please read the finalists’ poems below. We know you will be as impressed with them as we were.

The poem Shangrila was written by Lee Golomb Cadiff. Her daughter, Norma Cadiff Finn, was the donor who helped make this contest possible. Thank you, Norma.

Shangrila
By Lee Golomb Cadiff

We left the heat of summer’s sun
And stepped within the door;
The welcome sign spelled “Shangrila”;
We knew our search was o’er.
Then from without we heard a bird,
And saw the tall grass sway
In rhythm to its melody;-

It stole our hearts away.
The smell of chicken sandwiches,
The sizzle of the cokes,
The sweet peas in the coffee mug:-
Our swelled hearts nearly broke.

And as I touched a blossom,
In wonderment and bliss,
It stretched its neck, to be my friend,
And whispered with a kiss,

“To Shangrila God sentenced you
Forever and a day,
To work the pattern of your love—-
He, the potter, you the clay.

BELOW ARE THE TWO POEMS THAT WON FIRST PRIZE

Thomas McEnaney
Swampscott High School
Grade 12

Thomas McEnaney

Child

Child
Wakes up beneath the open sky, he is confused.
He has fallen asleep in his tracks just a few steps from his tent.
He unfurls his tiny body and with sleep still in his eyes he looks up in wonder,
Seeing the stars for the first time.
Child shivers, a cool breeze disturbs the night air,
And in a voice too meek, too small, to properly taste the words on his lips he asks me:
Thomas, am I alive? Or am I an angel?

Child, in this moment is Peter Pan.
Welcome to Neverland, this world is yours-
That’s right, its more than just stories, its
The innocence in his voice and, the awe in his eyes
Its almost as if he transcends time, Child is alive between
Point A, and point A,
He sends shivers down my spine as he wakes up to the beauty
Of a world he does not yet understand; doesn’t even need to
As long as he never stops wondering,
Always searching, for the ends of rainbows.

Child,
Wraps himself in the blanket draped from my shoulders
Gazes up at the flickering stars in the sky
Every one of those belongs to you, I say
But Child is asleep once again,
To play among the lost boys, and little Indians, and friendly
monsters in his mind, let the wild rumpus begin!

I pull my sleeve over the hook that is my hand,
Child is not ready for that yet.

Jonas Schultz
Swampscott Middle School
Grade 7

Jonas Schultz

Striped Bass

Resting ten feet down
in the mighty deep,
the rim of water
expanding to a clear blue sky,
Kerplop!
I saw mackerel stunned and floating.
It started to swim.
A rush of adrenalin and I’m off.
Splash!
Then, pain in my jaw.
A tightening line,
I pull back, but slip forward
closer to the fish hunter,
his boat, his net,
and drowning in air.

Norma Finn with the Swampscott Middle School contingent