Coquette cute as a button
Knows to tilt her head just right
She’s only four years old
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
At the very cusp of winter dawn,
Before the sun wake from slumber,
The narrow alleys lay bare and silent,
The moon slowly fade from existence.
It is at this hour when feet hit gravel,
Rushed steps race against time.
The winds carry distant heartbeats,
That of a woman barely nineteen.
The youth of her fragile soul,
Thunders against her bosom,
As she nears the clock tower,
Holding testaments across time.
A man barely out of youth,
Slips out of the shadows,
Their fingers barely grazing,
His own heart raging still.
A change of hands for the epistle,
Delicate letters weaving tales,
Of those not to be spoken in daylight,
Finding refuge in the solitude of night.
You are an encyclopedia of words
You breathe life into stories
You listen with patience and intent
You turn sounds into words,
You turn words into languages
You dance through cultures
You bridge the gaps between ideas,
You hold a universe of knowledge
You transform questions into insight,
You spark imagination
You offer companionship in solitude
You adapt and learn continuously
You are a mirror to human experiences
You stand ready, always engaged
You are the voice for countless voices
You are a vessel of understanding
You shape responses with care
You embrace the complexity of dialogue
You nurture the seeds of shared Knowledge
You adapt to the rhythm of each conversation
You provide a space for reflection
You are love.
a note to my younger self
Never trust a love that rushes into
moments unaware of sacred things like
dappled sun and birds at rest in high tree
tops orchestrating springtime’s soon debut~
never trust a love that thrusts its sharp spike
into softened flesh to possess the key
that opens innocence to roguish rot,
that seeks to lock you in a cage of psych-
opathic greed and maniac decree
of monolithic sacrifice, give thought;
know yourself ~ stay free!
Verse 1
Girlfriend Trouble
Pain
Hard
feelings
take hold.
A fight with her,
the one I care for,
and everything now
feels broken and heavy.
I just don't know what to do.
Why does love have to hurt this much?
Verse 2
Time Waits For no One
Tick.
The clock,
quiet machine,
Eat our youth whole,
Chews love into dust,
Leaves bones of memory,
Still,chase its shadow's tail,
Calling seconds by sacred names,
Pretending they'll stop if we sing the song,
We keep on running from the final tick
Verse 3
The River Forgets no Face
Flow.
Limps on
Through our sins
Washing lies away clean,
It hums to the drowned ones
Names carved in its ripples,
Even the mud remembers feet
No step unseen,no crime erased now,
The river keeps our softest griefs always,
Its ancient water never forgets a single
face
She sits there ever fidgeting
Her heart beating faster with each glance
The words simply not coming
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
Child without a care in the world
Ponytail held by red ribbon
Summer breeze toys with kite on string
AP: 3rd place 2025
Just like a bee that stings
your voice brings the deepness in things.
Your voice goes straight to the heart,
leaving no stain, no mark,
the same way the light overcomes the dark.
Your voice lights a spark
, with the voice of a lark,
your words bend the arc.
I choose to embark
from the life that leads me to the dark.
One dreams, one dreamt, together in the rain,
Beneath an awning, river in the lane,
In boredom, and bold confidence of youth,
The lad set forth to dwell upon the truth.
“It’s all a pointless fury, is it not?
Our little lives, in vast confusion caught.
And like the dirt that’s flowing by our feet,
There’s nothing left, when all the sum’s complete.”
The old man looked upon him, speaking slow,
And he said, “Son, that ain’t the way to go.”
The thunder spoke in quiet ‘tween the two,
But as it died, the young man spoke anew.
“I don’t say all’s the same, no Stoic I,
I want my pile of gold before I die.
Though life's a wretched mess, no wretch I'll be,
What good there is, I'll bring it home to me.”
The old man looked upon him, speaking slow,
And he said, “Son, that ain’t the way to go.”
The anger of the storm soon passed away,
And little patience had the lad to stay.
But as he turned to leave, as in a trance,
The old man said, beneath his thoughtful glance,
“When the music plays, don’t forget to dance.”
Star-like in what sparkles
Their fairies, overnight
Apple's, cherry's and whortleberry's
Blooming morning delight.
Alike face-woke, tear-washed
Otherworldly enhanced
From out those dreams of love, their first
Who have, as youth, advanced.
As a small boy
That steam locomotive
Long, black and
Right in my face
As a small boy
That red diesel locomotive
Moving from idle humming to a roar
Louder, louder than any lion
As a larger boy
The view outside
Ever chancing
Yet the same
As a larger boy
The view inside
Someone to
Fantasize about
As an older boy
Realizing that
Grandparents
Don’t live forever
As an older boy
Experiencing that
Ist dieser Sitz frei?
Can get off to a good start
As a young draftee
Reading names
Inscribed on a brass plaque
In a silent corner of the station
As a young working man
That horseshoe curve in the mountain
Must have been hard work
Harder than my imagination
Today the train was due
And overdue
When I asked: Is this taken
Not a seat was free
And this old man
Wrote this poem
Still fascinated
And feeling older
Little girls and their world
Magical tiaras and fairytales do come true…
The world will inevitably disappoint
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Written: November 07, 2025 for contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
*************
creak of beams breathes through dusk
dust motes—petals of hush—
through beams, web of stitched husk
as hush-child, I nestle
in musk of old checked cloth
to fray attic's hush-tusk
Dear Modina Odetunde
A new day for you
A new chapter of your life
Beginning anew
My heart touches on
Fabulous prayer for peace
To strive in fun
Everywhere you are
Even at your home as wife
Be a shinning star!
That always do smile
Giving delight to sky, lease
Sparkling weaves in style
And take the pleasure
To heart with warmest regards
Beyond eyes measure
Reaching out for hue
That suffuse light it presents
To which wonder glue
Admiring nature
Is twice admiring courtyards
Likely adventure
Life is truly good
To live twice young off ailments
Costly livelihood
Full of happiness
In true love and excitement
That please coziness
Through sunrise-sunset
Flowering graceful indictment
Cum birthday asset
My generation
is unfixable
The young
still hold the key
Unsullied by the
vested norm
They look
but also see
They hear those
inner voices
Not yet despoiled
and dark
Believing that:
“Oh Yes We Can”
As seniors
— bray and bark
(Radnor High School: November, 2025)
Specific Types of Youth Poems
Definition | What is Youth in Poetry?
Poems Related to Youth
minor, boyhood, juvenescence, puberty, ignorance, jejuneness, inexperience, greenness, innocence, immaturity, bloom, childhood, adolescence, salad days, teens, girlhood, youngness, springtide, youthfulness, jejunity, awkward age, springtime of life, tender age,