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CAMPBELL LIBRARY
High School Winner
ALIVE
Red is the color of blood and rubies
The dark glint of the madman’s eyes.
The sound of the heart as it thunders
Nearer and nearer to its demise.
Red is the color of fear
Bold and vibrant against a white-black sky.
Paint splattered--a canvas--left unfinished
A life--suddenly interrupted.
Red is the color of betrayal
Of revenge, a snake waiting to strike.
Rage rising, white-hot
Scarlet starbursts of pain.
Red is the color of courage
The fire of the burning sun.
Battle scars, a badge worn proudly
Wars fought, lost, and won.
Red is the color of hope and embers
Blazing light--a dying flame.
The spark before the inferno
The sour taste of shame.
Red is the color of love and lust
The never-silent song of desire.
Sweet kisses, stolen embraces
And still the broken promises.
Red is bitter--sharp as the knife-edge.
Violent, ungentle--not quite cruel.
Loud, wild--impossible to tame.
Alive.
CAMPBELL LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
We, Robots
Colored rogue with empty hearts
You could not split a pair apart
They called it fun, I called it shame
That brought a timbre to their name
Lights would flash a bright alarm
The music thumping to disarm
And as the room turned smoky gray
Coherence slowly dripped away
And in the morning, rusted, weak
Black eyed with crumpled blotchy cheeks
They grind corroded gears and rise
Mechanically they wipe their eyes
Hide the toolkit, hide the parts
That once made up their metal hearts
All the nuts, the bolts, the nails
The brief excitement still prevails …
And still, the next night they return
Willing to let their conscience burn
They waged some whiskey for each breath
Inching closer to their death
The locksmith hands over a tiny key
You have arrived- what do you see?
They opened up themselves, surprised
At the lovely caverns filled with lies.
CUPERTINO LIBRARY
High School Winner
The Music of Yosemite
Listen to the music of Yosemite.
Experience the rich, sonorous sound,
Of the Yosemite Falls trombone.
The vibrant symphony of strings,
As butterflies flutter through the air.
The melodious triple flute performs, full of mystery
While gliding in a forest enchanted with life.
Gaze at the beautiful Giant Sequoias,
Taking notice of the lone clarinet,
Chirping along with the birds.
Gasp, when you see Tunnel View
With El Capitan and Half Dome in sight,
Alongside the complete ensemble,
Playing a song that makes your heart soar with grandeur,
As high as the late afternoon sky, Above the dusky trees,
Past the twilight moon, And with the nighttime stars,
Lies a gentle harp, whose soothing notes sing a lullaby,
The glistening stars make you dream,
But you don’t sleep just yet,
For it starts to snow!
Not a rough, hard snow, determined to whiten the world.
But a soft, gentle snow, giving the world a fine white powder.
A piano playing a note for every snowflake falling out of the sky.
And there lies the conductor of all this beauty!
Change, the Spirit of Yosemite.
For every time you visit it is never the same.
An inner peace drifts over the land.
Listen, and listen closely my dear,
For only those who truly imagine can hear it,
Listen to the Music of Yosemite.
CUPERTINO LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
Wandering Heart
This world is filled
With the perfume of flowers.
I feel their love,
I feel their heartbeat.
Did you hear that soft sound?
Did you hear the wind's breath?
Did you hear the whispers of the trees,
waiting for me?
Who said those mean things?
Whose voice was that?
That insensitive facade was a mask.
Now love touches me.
In this twilight,
only I see you.
Now this tender wind,
bears my song for you.
As I sing an uplifting song,
feel my radiance beat from my shy heart.
My heart is full of painful scars.
But if I only told you I'd follow you,
my endless wounds could've healed.
No matter how long,
No matter how distant.
Our love is relentless.
though sorrows or troubles,
I will be by your side.
GILROY LIBRARY
High School Winner
Sad Story Seeping from Wrinkled Mouth
Now Her pueblo is lonely and empty
Nothing but houses withering away with doors unlocked
Colorful clothes hanging to dry – waiting to be rescued
The echo of ancient winds singing cantos viejitos
But She will never return and the clothes will never dry
The rain is their damnation and the petrichor in the air is their salvation.
To Her the land is timeless
The people are ageless
And their youth is endless
But now they are old
Now they sit on sidelines holding their own
Their eyes are dry and their faith is high
Tomorrow they say goodbye.
“Yesterday I was young
Today I am done”
She is a still picture in my hands
And like this She shall forever remain.
GILROY LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
Left Behind
Crumpled leaves in piles of crimson
Flowers swaying against the soft breeze
Dark brown hair and torn shoes
Arms wrapped tightly around me
One foot on the skateboard and one on the ground
His deep brown eyes sinking into mine
Then they shut
He turns around
Says goodbye
And skates away
The trees moan for him to stop,
The grass pulls at the wheels of his board,
But he’s unstoppable.
Please, someone come save me from the pain
Please, save me from the things I’ve lost.
I melt into the unknown
As the once hopeful winds carry me away . . . .
The one left behind
LOS ALTOS LIBRARY
High School Winner
“Nonexistence”
I sent you blocks of characters
With droplets of silver sentimentality
Embedded within the cracks of wood
To which you brushed aside carelessly
Because I guess I hadn’t carved the art
As elegantly as you would have liked.
Sometimes you sent me splinters of characters,
With the meanings of your etches
As bland as an infinite blanket of sand.
Yet I folded them into the pockets of my mind
And took them with me as I faded into the stars.
LOS ALTOS LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
Untitled 1
when my screams echo these abandoned halls of my mind
…will you be there looking for me?
when I cry my eyes out, after my family yells their feelings,
…will you wipe my tears?
can I sleep on your chest, so I can fall asleep
to the steady beating of your heart?
can I trust you
to hold me together
when I can't?
when all I have and all I am breaks like glass…
and after each blow
I will eventually shatter
can you pull me back together?
because I miss the feeling
of knowing that I make someone's
heartbeat faster than mine.
you make me feel loved….
can't you see?
…never leave
because I missed you
before I ever knew
you were looking for me.
MILPITAS LIBRARY
High School Winner
It’s Time
The line in front of us has no end in sight
Protracted
Elongated
The clock ticks closer to the top of the hour, to something
Alarming
Frightening
Some of us have spent months or even years getting ready for this
Priming
Anticipating
Because the next three hours will determine our future
Paramount
Significant
Depending on if our results are
Exceptional
Reputable
Or
Abominable
Atrocious
We're filing in
It's time
For the
SAT.
MILPITAS LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
Little Innocent Box
a little innocent box,
dark maple, worn edges,
a flash of dull gold.
a little innocent box,
what could it possibly hold?
perhaps a glittering diamond brooch,
or a long forgotten daguerreotype.
alas our spirits dashed,
when the box creaks open,
for nothing is inside, nothing at all,
nothing, null, void.
but something glimmers, something twinkles,
something shines with unbridled light.
and up rises
the thing named Hope.
for from the depths of dark despair,
it bloomed into a beautiful flower.
a little innocent box,
look past the cover and maybe, just maybe,
you'll know who she is.
MORGAN HILL LIBRARY
High School Winner
My Side of the Wall
On my side of the wall, what you would see,
Are people trying too hard to be-
Like everyone else, normal, just the same,
From my view, it’s all a shame.
All a shame that their Love goes to waste,
Trying too hard to get a taste-
Of that fake Love.
On my side of the wall, what you would feel,
Are hearts as cold as stainless steel.
Eyes so deep, that you could drown staring into them too long,
And it feels weird...
As you can’t expect to feel right, in a place so wrong.
On my side of the wall, what you would hear,
Are shouts from miles away, that somehow sound near.
But again this is my side of the wall,
If you tried climbing over, you’d just fall-
Into the depths of spikes, as sharp as a broken heart,
That would dagger into you, tearing you apart.
Now how did I get on my side of this wall?
I was already broken, before I went for the fall.
MORGAN HILL LIBRARY
Middle School Winner
Hello, giant
I look up to you, giant.
You are so tall
you must be friends with the moon.
Even bird live in your hair.
Can you see my house from up there?
Have you ever caught a shooting star?
Does your rough skin even feel my kicks?
How did you celebrate your 900th birthday?
Is that why you have so many rings?
You never answer my questions,
but we are still friends.
If a kid can be friends with a tree.
Sutter Keane
Oakwood School, Morgan Hill
Grade: 6
(top)
SARATOGA LIBRARY
High School Winner
“Where I’m From”
I sit in the shade of the magnolia tree
Whose anttraced limbs sheltered me when I wanted invisibility.
Forever faithful, its skinny arms and legs never let mine bruise.
Two teddy bear princesses that defined my childhood universe.
Sugar brown, with fur soft as lamb’s ears, they ruled over imaginary worlds.
I turn a page; the juice of pumpkincolored persimmon fruit stains it.
To me it speaks of hours watching the same feeble tree swell, pregnant
With basketfuls of sweet fruit I hated because they didn’t look like apples.
My heaven came in November, when the pineapple guava bushes dropped
Green sugar spheres beside my feet. I stuck them in Trader Joe’s paper bags,
Eating them by the strainer after lazy evenings.
To the spine I finger the glued remnants of a pink streamer, which recalls
Careless afternoons spent racing with my brother on a lollipopcolored bike.
When he’d fall on the carpet, laughing at me, I’d stalk to my room, slamming the door
To find solace with Harry Potter and Narnia’s Pevensies. Then I’d scratch the skin
My eczema reddened and dried, as I glanced between it and an arsenal of antibiotics.
I liked silence. Playground fights that started with takesoneto knowone and
Tagyou’re it I avoided, and instead I’d lean into a cushion of dirty clothes in the
Darkness of my closet clutching a coverless diary and my favorite chewedout pencil.
Scrawled writing recorded a trove of dreams forgotten, crushed between
SAT classes and math competitions. I once wanted to dance ballet.
Still, I treasure these words because they remind me where I’m from.
Now I am a seed blown out into wind, soaring wild beyond the dandelion.
Middle School Winner
we wear black because it’s zhu yu’s death
rather sentimental at first sight, isn’t it?
a dying girl and wilting flowers braided into dry tendrils
that poured over her cotton bedding
but the intensity in the room climbed
it was silent but unsettling as i smelled war on her mind
and she screamed in silence as it wracked her whole body
and her tortured spirit clashed against itself
again, and again
bloodied, and beaten
but again, and again
the doctors and nurses taunted their hostage
threatening to fire the missiles
unless she became one of them: monsters
she died before they could kill her, or at least that’s what the doctors say
we all wore black and it rained sunflowers in the hospital that day
oh, but don’t they know
those missiles won’t be prepared for zhu yu’s comeback
zhu yu
it rings of joy and patriotism
for it means freedom in our language
taiwanese
and yes, there is a difference between taiwan and china
a difference between the way we act, the way we speak
the way we think that we belong to nobody
because the next time i see zhu yu
she’ll be breathing normally in a chinese hospital
no, it will be in taiwan
no, it won’t be a hospital
she will be soaring through fields of sunflower, the liberty bell ringing
free, at last
