Second Year Joymarita Rajinikanth has won first place in the Junior Cycle section of the National Wellread Poetry Award! Joymarita had already repeatedly astounded her English teacher, Mr. Seamus Gallagher, with her creativity and wordplay, and had impressed Dr. Fallon enough to win last year’s overall St. Conleth’s Creative Writing Award, but this is taking it to another level: winning first prize in a national competition amongst stiff competition. Instead of us waxing less lyrically about Joymarita’s gifts, we have decided to let her speak for herself. Her prize-winning poem follows, as will photos after she receives her award on November 7th at a special ceremony!
by Joymarita Rajinikanth
I have spent hours upon hours,
Willing it to be,
But the Oh so simple truth is,
I am not made of poetry.
When the script in my head goes blank,
Sweet words fail to roll off my tongue,
In their place come mumbled sorrys,
Sentences not yet carefully strung.
Like that book upon my mantelpiece, untouched for years,
My covers tattered and worn,
But that’s okay because for every loved word,
There stands a page of smudged ink, bedraggled and torn.
My hair never sits prim and proper,
Unlike a poem, sitting neatly on its line.
And occasionally, I feel like a word,
Too complicated for people to define.
I am not a caterpillar discovering its inner butterfly,
Nor am I a bird of prey defeating its competitor.
I’ve realized I’m simply too complex,
To be crammed into one common metaphor.
I like taking my time to think,
Since my thoughts don’t all have to rhyme.
And although a poem once written is eternal,
I have the freedom to change over time.
I contain more emotion than can be written onto a page,
There is no title across my forehead saying ‘This Is Me.’
I can’t be locked into pages of a notebook,
Because I, I am not made of poetry.