Oh, September, the official end of summer holidays… but as you know, every ending is just another beginning, and what a strong start it has been for our poetry workshops! We’ve had some spectacular submissions from students all over the country this month, and in this round-up blog we will share our top 10 picks from the month of September! Note that these will not be ranked in a particular order but rather grouped by theme.
This month, students have explored what it means to them to be a young woman in today’s society, such as in these brave submissions.
Women
Being a woman is always tough
Never feeling like your enough
Working hard each and every day
Never knowing what to say
You can’t say you’re ugly, but you can’t say your beautiful
You mustn’t lie, must always be truthful
“You can’t wear this”, “You can’t wear that”
“Should I buy this?”, “Does it make me look fat”.
A woman should know how to cook and clean
She must not be heard, only seen
She must also have her own money
And not rely on men who call her “honey”
This is what we are told every single day
Nobody asks what we have to say
Don’t let anyone tell you what you can be
Us women are strong, just you wait and see
Untitled
From the moment we enter crying,
Men shouting from car windows and honking their horns
Living by the way you look, not the way you feel
‘He’s just trying to flirt’ but I told him no already
He never liked me anyway but why did it feel that way
When he didn’t have her, when he needed something to distract him
From the moment we enter dying,
Because people don’t talk about marlin Monroe’s talent or kindness
It’s her body, the sex symbol of a lifetime
People don’t care how she led the way for women for generations to come
But that her statue has ‘nice tits’
We start and end as objects
In a constant cycle that never ends
From grandmother to granddaughter
When will it end?
Of course we could not explore only one side of the coin, so let’s also take a look at the wonderful young men’s submission on what it means to them to “be a man”.
Untitled
I’d like to use my strength to protect,
I try but fail,
That’s my defect.
Instead I do what’s easy, does that make my mind frail?
That’s what I think it is to be a man.
To help, whenever we can.
Even if we fail along the way,
You could save someone, or just make their day.
Being a Man
Being a man is to care as well as careless.
To not worry about things that don’t matter and to for things that do.
To fight for what you believe in no matter the consequences
And to accept the little and large with open arms.
As everyone deserves respect and empathy
Everyone is connected and everyone is effected by each others action
So think about what it feels like to be the little person
We can all hopefully agree that there is more to our experience than being a “man” or a “woman” so here are a few phenomenal submissions which explore being a human, and ponder on their own unique identity.
Untitled
These four walls, surrounded by tattered halls and scuffed up floorboards
Raggedy classrooms that no matter how warm always feel cold
You enter these four walls with a hopeful heart clad with hopes and dreams your head full of wonder,
But leave with a tattered uniform and an angry heart
All those hopes and dreams nothing but scuff marks on the floorboards
Be smarter, work harder, listen, get this in your head because if you don’t your future is ruined
You’re defined by a tiny number written in red on top of a piece of paper,
A piece of paper you will forget about when the next is handed to you
Everything comes crashing down with that little red number
But is that what really defines you?
Is what you are, what someone else tells you, you are and suddenly you are not yourself,
You’re what others want you to be, what others want to see.
And that’s not you because what makes you you is how you see yourself, not a little red number.
A Poem About Me
I am a kind and loving flame,
Soft at heart, but strong in name.
I lift up others, day by day,
With gentle words to light their way.
The stage has called me, bold and true,
In youth theatre, I’ve found my view.
Not for the songs or shining cheer,
But for the stories we hold dear.
I once ran fast with stick and ball,
Camogie fields would hear my call.
And basketball, with hoops so high,
Taught me to leap, to reach the sky.
Yet in my soul, a dream takes flight,
To act in history, pure and bright.
To breathe the past, to make it live,
To tell the tales time longs to give.
I am not perfect, yet I strive,
To keep compassion deep, alive.
And when I stand, both brave and free,
I know the stage was made for me.
These next two submissions truly showcase a love for sport and the discipline that goes into our passions and hobbies, what wonderful determination in these young folks words!
The Best
The brightly lit home,
In the lush, nice, bright place,
Alone in a room
Staring down the mirror with my face,
In a room with an erg,
And the chain in my hands,
Wishing to row in water,
But only a machine in land,
Seven days a week,
I train and I train,
Despite the freezing rain,
And the blistering pain,
I play my games.
I play them a lot,
But there’s more time for rowing
Despite the fact I want,
To be the best
The very best
At games,
At rowing,
At everything
Sport
Sport is tough
it can be rough
but when you play
all your thoughts go away
there’s a lot of pressure
and a lot to measure,
it can make you cry
but you still always try
to be the best you can be.
That’s what sports mean to me.
Last, but certainly not least let’s take a moment to appreciate these brave submissions which showed self-reflection, strength, and a critique on the status quo. Words are powerful, and that makes these young poets real-life superheroes!
Untitled
Growing up can be hard
When those around feed you lies
Say you are better than others
Say that others are worse than what you are, for who they are,
despite the fact they cannot choose
That fact.
So the biggest change I’ve made in my life
And by far the best, that’s truly made me happy
Is leaving those who discriminated and hated
So I could allow myself to stand for what I believed
And believe in what I stood for.
No more fake me hating on people I so desperately wished to know about
Now I wish for those people to be seen as equals
And for me to make up for what I was as a younger me.
Untitled
I hate the fact that transgender people cannot walk home at night
The fear and fright
Because of the “normal people” how normal is it to wish death on a group of people?
To beat and batter people who look and wish to be different from you?
People who only wish to be comfortable in their own skin their own body
and you want to exterminate them like bugs under your foot.
Normal is a word you made to justify your lunacy,
your fear of things you can’t understand
and don’t want to understand.
So do not lecture me on saving lives,
when you hate transgender people for simply looking for happiness.