FIRST PRIZE
A Little Bit of Everything
by Lola Cooke, 12th grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School
recently
I’ve been a nomad
wandering between my new home
and my old one
the Future
cupping the promise
of a new home
in its soft hands
the Past
offering a shoulder to lean on
holding the home that has always been mine
in the moments that I understand it most
home is the front seat
windows down
music pumping through our blood
shaking the car
rattling the breath through our lungs
announcing our presence unapologetically
we roar through the quiet streets
convinced we are the only ones who understand
what it means to be alive
home is the feeling of being young
of dancing in the kitchen with the people I love
cooking terrible food
choking on laughter
the understanding that these are moments now
but they will be memories soon
home is a place I am unafraid to be reckless
she offers me a future I am unafraid to take hold of
she is a lighthouse
guiding me to safety
reminding me
that I will always have a place
in her arms
_____
SECOND PRIZE
KoreaTown Drive
by Mia Swiecicki, 9th grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School
In the kitchen, where each symmetrical checkered tile is illuminated by the vivid sun.
On the pale blue splintered deck, where dewy vines climb longing for light.
In the room with the small bed, draped in a quilt of one thousand shades of pink.
At the round table draped in lace where miyeok guk is slurped.
At the piano, which whispers an angelic melody as we glide our fingers across the slim tiles.
In the weary brown chair which is older than time itself.
Under the long branches of the chandelier which casts warmth on the room.
Hearing the sound of Go game pieces clash with the board.
On the delicate white couch where steamy ginger tea is sipped out of gold rimmed glasses.
At the kitchen counter, where a rainbow of vegetables are transformed into sheets of paper.
Rooms filled with plants make even the coldest days feel like summer.
At my Halmeoni’s house.
Where I feel protected.
Where I feel loved.
Where I feel at home.
_____
THIRD PRIZE
Storage Unit
by Keagan Blake, 12th grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School
Our homes aren’t our street addresses
They aren’t our bedrooms, living rooms, or bathrooms
Our homes are the cracks in the wall
The chipped paint on the railings from too many visitors’ wandering hands
The brown rings on the windowsill from failed attempts at raising plants
Those unexplainable stains on the couch from what you can only hope was the dogs
muddy paws or kids
The discoloration on their walls from years of wiping off childhood “art”
Our homes aren’t the foundation of shelter in which we live
But the floors dusted in hair reminding us of beloved pets
Our homes are filled with broken appliances we insist are still good for use
As well as physical reminders of items once sworn to be necessities
When you think of home,
Don’t think simply of your living room
But of the castle you and your siblings lived in as you ruled other kingdoms
Or your bedroom, that houses secrets of its own from years of teenage gossip
Our homes are our own personal storage units
Housing thousands upon thousands of memories of the past and what’s to come
So next time you think of home, think of the home that raised your siblings,
Your parents
The home that raised you.
_____
FOURTH PRIZE
’66
by Emilie Perray, 11th grade
Clearview Regional High School
The evenings save their touch for me,
Because they know that no one else
Can feel it quite as well as I can.
When the sky entangles its cotton breath with mine
And wraps its lips around my eyes, I say–
“Swallow me whole,
I’ve seen everything there is to see, here.”
But it laughs at me,
Smiling with the soul of my mother
Cradling the heart of my sister,
And it says–
You’re smaller than you think.
I can see the airplanes from my window at night,
Igniting sparks across a raven sea.
The moon watches them with me every now and again.
It takes my arms and pulls me closer.
“I’ve seen this all before,”
I whisper beneath its light.
But you remember me more than I remember you,
It tells me.
If you’d lived a full life, that wouldn’t be so.
I took the bus home from school, today.
I sit in seat eleven.
A girl looked at me strangely,
And I wanted to hold her hand.
She looks just like her brother.
Fluttering green tapped at the window
From behind me and stole my attention away.
“I’ve seen you before,” I said to the leaves.
“I dipped my finger into the sound of your melancholy months ago,
And the feeling has yet to leave me.
It goes wherever I go.”
I walked from the bus to my backyard
And greeted every blade of grass on the way.
I’ve cried with them before,
And I’ve eaten with them before;
But it’s been so long that they sputtered my name
Like gasping infants,
Unsure of who I’ve become since then.
“I’ve broken up with my boyfriend,” I say.
“My heart is still his, but this home is only mine, again.
Can’t you feel how soft the air has become?”
It takes me back…
The sheer vividity of my breath could paint the thoughts of a child.
Here, I learned that coffee smells better than it tastes.
My father said that good relationships always go bad;
I thought, then, that life must feel better in memories
Than it does in the moment.
When the soles of my bliss are worn through,
I’m only motivated to run farther
And farther away from this place.
We know each other too well, I think.
But on my way out the door,
I smell it from the kitchen,
The same as it’s always been–
A caramel ocean boiling at its edges,
Panting its warm breath.
Smells better than it tastes, she warns me,
And I take another sip, anyway,
Because I’m too sure that I’ll grow to like it one day.
I’m addicted to the potential of my reality
And the sweet aftertaste of even its most bitter moments,,,
I ought to be, for each day
It’s proven to me that familiar things can be discovered again.
I poured my heart into the mold of this life;
It came out in the shape of adoration,
And I’ve carved into it
The silhouette of my home.
_____
HONORABLE MENTION
My Own Home
by Julia Bono, 12th grade
Haddonfield Memorial High School
I have been waiting patiently for years
Building my temple.
In the deep recesses of my mind
I’ve slipped her on like velvet gloves
The versions of me I want to be and will never be.
When the noise rises from the first floor
When she storms into my room and the world is collapsing in on itself
I crawl back into the cave
And in the home
that is
me.
In four months I’m going to college.
And I’ll finally be alone.
Maybe one day I’ll light a candle
Go to the grocery store and make myself dinner
And no one will even know.
_____
HONORABLE MENTION
Out on the Rocks
by Michelle Goodman, 11th grade
Williamstown High School
out on the rocks
away from the sickening yellow interior
the warmth of house
house, not home
reaching out to the sky, the sea
the blurring line between
swirling chaos, moonlight bounding through the air
bouncing off of the sky, the sea
the freezing sea
cold, but not harsh
uninviting, but not unwelcoming
untouched by the world, still as glass, so easily shattered at the lightest touch
a delicate sheet stretching out to the horizon
meeting the sky
the unworldly
the distant
infinitely far, infinitely vast
yet met by the sea
an intangible, unthinkable boundary between
a line so blurred it may as well not exist
it seems almost possible to swim out, touch the sea, touch the sky
to cross the boundary
and take flight
out on the rocks
i look out as far as i can see
that vast, unending, unwavering void
an empty bliss beyond this world
i can escape myself
and see the world from the other side
from the sky, from the sea
from the dreams of mine
from the dreams of the well-adjusted
from the dreams of the astronomer
from the dreams of all who dream
from my perch upon the border of nothing and everything
the collapse of reality
the world stares back at me, beckoning me
knowing i don’t want to come back
but knowing i need to
unending beauty
eternal cold
perfect silence
i get lost in the world
in the dream
in the unreality
in reality
reality
i feel it calling again
my perch shakes
rocks
tumbles
careening down from the aether
i fall back into myself
out on the rocks
i can’t look out anymore
the sky, the sea
all lost something beautiful
something magical, ethereal
only the raw nature left
it hurts now
more than i can imagine
so i turn the other way
i know my fate
i know what it means to dream
i get off the rocks
and head to where i know i’m safe
to that magical yellow glow
the warmth of home