High School Poets

. Spacious spans the starlit sky; Silver shines its light; Vast the veil, Pearly-pale, Drawn o’er the dusky night; Silently the star-strewn brooks Through flow’ry meadows flow; Glitt’ring gleams On silver streams With crystal glory, glow; Whisp’ring breathes the whirling wind O’er the grasses gray; Deep in the dell The...

. Behold the father of this infant land, Conductor of our daunting foe’s defeat, Now warmly laureled for his noble stand Through which our liberty was made complete. Yet Washington the praise did humbly hear, For he had seen the suff’ring and the strain— No pay, scant food, harsh cold,...

. Humility Lo, I have seen the Muses plain. What need Have I to go on living?—’Twas in Rome: I touched the flesh (it was a holy deed) That Michelangelo shaped out of stone. O what a great and glorious legacy The Ancients left us!—beautiful and rare. But look at...

  Perfectionist Inclined Maligned by self-encasing brine, defined By certainty's demise, self-image lies Within a shrine. Perfectionist inclined, I crouch transfixed in infinite surmise: Confined by shell, by husk, cocoon intact, Unshattered yet, afraid to fall, afraid To try to fall, while each and every act Desires a release from...

  "Poetry ... is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular." —Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics First Prize: $100. Publication in the Society's website and Journal.   Submission Fee: $5 (The fee comes with a free subscription to our...

Thank you to every one who participated! The quality of the high school poems submitted this year was stunning.    First Place ($100 Prize): Luke Hahn, twelfth grade, homeschooled in Waupun, Wisconsin "Victus" "To a Murdered World" Second Place: Erin Jeon, tenth grade, University High School, Irvine, California "Twilight" Second...

Victus a response to William Ernest Henley’s poem “Invictus,” from which the first two lines of the final stanza are taken. Dry chatter of dry souls dies out, Beleaguered by the eastern wind, When this world’s chaff is blown about: The chaff of every soul that sinned. Their tongues grow...

  A Letter to Sir Grammar Dear Sir Grammar: With all kindness and courtesy, may I request, A new package of words, freshly made, For, truly, it seems I have used them all up, And my writing has near been betrayed. To start with, I shall need a splatter of...

  The sun sinks deep into the hill Behind the town that perches still. An amber fog prowls through the street Of cobbled stone and stonewashed chill. Dark navy night skies come compete With primrose twilight in retreat. The fog’s her shroud, her wedding veil, For wedding nightfall in defeat....

  Moth, Angel of the Night Emerging from a rich cocoon, you shed off your old husk– with legs outstretched and wings unfurled, you head out in the dusk. O harbinger of sunsets-- O twilight angel true! The time has come for you to fly out in the midnight blue!...

  Three Hundred Spartans In twilight’s ash three hundred stars await As blue-black thunder roars with battle drums, Three hundred voices murmuring of fate, As odds and armour stack in fearful sums. Oh watch, my brother, watch your patient steel, And wield it knowing valor keeps you strong, And feel,...

  Rain, lapping at the windows fast, falls cold and ceaseless, painting lines of marble on the silvered glass while clouds cast dark and thunder whines; but these walls will not let it pass and through a cloud-gap sunlight shines. I watch it from the darkened room, for I am...

Winners of the competition can be found here. "But with the true poet every thing is terse, touching, or brilliant. He gives the choicest thoughts in the choicest language. He illustrates them by everything that he sees most striking in nature and art." —Washington Irving (1783-1859), "Mutability of Literature" First...

  Note: Winners of this contest can be found here. We have begun a new high school poetry contest here. "But with the true poet every thing is terse, touching, or brilliant. He gives the choicest thoughts in the choicest language. He illustrates them by everything that he sees most...

  These twain ephem’ral lives were fraught with woes When they, a boy and girl in morn of life, Defied their due inheritance as foes And chased a star-crossed love as man and wife. Belovéd by their family, kin and friends, To honest, faithful vow of love they swore; Walked...

  “Let glorious acts more glorious acts inspire, And catch from breast to breast the noble fire!" —The Iliad, Homer, Book V, Pope translation First Prize: $1,000   Submission Fee: None   Submit: One to three poems. All together, the poems should total 108 lines or less. The poems should...

I have not been to Medford, nor Milan; I have not seen a war, nor won the peace; I’ve risen to six thousand cloudy dawns that – not once – promised sun, and storms to cease. I have not stood to spurn the March of Time; nor have I dreamed...

There once was a girl named Shelly. who bought a pet fish by the deli. But to her surprise, with fear in her eyes, she saw the fish dead on its belly.   Annie Acho Tartoni is a student Mercy High School in Farmington Hills, Michigan.

  Lips, soft as velvet, primrose pink, Are rent the blue of bruising ink. They rive and crackle in the cold, Retract in tissue paper folds; Corroded strips as flayed as zinc Teased grey and gaunt, and growing old. Faint silver sands shake down like snow, Days melting slowly in...

Passing of the Seasons When snow has melted, chill has gone, and winter turns to spring, The tender buds grow on the branches where the robins sing. The earth once brown is green again, blessed by the April rain, And flowers shy peek out the ground to meet the sun...

  In a secluded forest glade, Where sunlight shines and shadows fade, The faeries come to dance and play Upon a bright warm summer’s day. Light are their footsteps, quick their feet On shimmering wings, they do fleet. Throughout the glade, clear voices ring; The songs of faerie folk they...

  Spring is Coming From naked trees, droplets of dew, Drips like tears onto my upturned face. Everything is bleak, nothing new. No creation feels like outer space. Hear ye, hear ye, everyone come. What, a spot of bright green on that tree? Although it’s as small as a crumb,...

A Million Thoughts Based on the Holocaust testimony of Bertha Haberfeld By Surina Patel A million thoughts are rushing through my brain, The looming gas chamber ahead of me, The sounds I hear and the sights that I see, The mud beneath my numb feet from the rain, Everything feels...

Rising above the silt and murky mud, Clean and pure is the small pink bud, Supported by a supple stem of jade, Adorned with gleaming dew drops, crystal made. Elegant yet sweet this gentle bloom, Penetrating the bleak, surrounding gloom, Steadfast, and honorable heart unmoved, Its light fragrance adds to...

  Sighs fill the room as Mulan weaves the loom She doesn’t want Father to meet his doom. The Khan needs an army to face the Huns; Father can barely walk let alone run. There’s none to take his place and perhaps die: Little brother’s too young to even try,...

  Dedicated to Falun Gong practitioners who have faced seventeen years of persecution in China. As tempests are blowing, angry waves clash; The foaming sea roars, whilst lightning doth flash. Eternal clouds march across the bleak sky, To sailor’s dismay, the heavens now cry. Braving the rain, the wind, the...

Dogs are expected to sit Dogs are expected to stay They receive kicks If they make the boat sway Hong Kong is the dog But, of course, there is no Hong Kong When it comes to the law In China there’s only one: It is the law of the People...

  The Poet’s Purpose A poet praises all of nature’s treasures, He seeks to find the pathway to her core, To laud the rarest beauty in spring’s pleasures And marvel at the waves that kiss the shore. He sees a butterfly amid some roses, An adder hid within a leafy...

The Society of Classical Poets is pleased to announce the release of its 2016 Journal! Click here to purchase a copy. It is also available on Amazon. This year's journal is bigger and better than ever! In addition to the best poetry being written today in the English-speaking world, it...

Shall I compare the CCP To a tragic Shakespeare play? For all the lies of history Unfold in China today. Good and evil set the stage, The last and final scene. But those who ‘gainst heaven rage Know not of the unseen. Greater forces are at play, Watching this tragedy,...

Riverside Sun rays glisten Reflect the river I stand and listen Can’t help but shiver Restless fish swim Graceful, majestic Watching sunlight dim Thoughts are monolithic Nature’s beauty endless Never ceases to amaze I stand still, breathless Caught up in a daze   Persecution of the Wiser I believe in...

Squinters The curious the contemplators the ones who concentrate on the littlest details. The most beautiful thing about them is how they space out and their attention is unattainable. While the others dismiss things as useless activities the squinters wish to figure out the world and how we revolve around...

Congratulations to the winners and to everyone who participated. There were many hundreds of submitted poems and many good works and poets who had to be left out. Thank you! ***Winners should email their mailing addresses to [email protected] to receive their prizes.   First Prize ($500): Ron L. Hodges, Garden...

Based on the real account of a doctor involved in the Chinese Communist Party’s harvesting of organs from innocent living Falun Gong practitioners   In a bloodstained room on the darkest night, Four ghastly men enter, draped in white, Though dripping with sweat their spirits are cold, Ready to feast...

  An autumn breeze blows swiftly through the air, And plucks the tree leaves from their humble roots. Amidst the cold a group stands in the square, Its people warmly dressed in hats and boots. Each face is filled with peace and harmony, As soothing music drifts throughout the sky....

Laments of the Oppressed My great country, please let me be, What I think and say should be up to me, The world cannot be so controlled, You don't have to block every single road. It isn't something bad we seek, To have good virtues when life is complete, Abandon...

This poem was inspired by Shen Yun Performing Arts.   Bleak and somber is the flavor du jour; Modernism pervades all spheres of art; Artists lacking virtue make it a bore, People wait for a refreshing restart. A booming strike! The gong that evil fears, Pulses race, while excitement fills...

  First Prize ($500): Reid McGrath Winning Poems: “Tares in the Wheat” “A Recurring Dream, Vanquished” “Retreating Snow” “Lamenting Our Complicity in the Installation of Suicide Nets” “Three Trojan Perspectives”   Second Prize ($100): James Sale Winning Poems: “Apollo Builds Troy with His Lyre” “The Commissars Oppose Falun Gong” “Noah...

  The Shore Forever lost in the ocean the water seeps into my chest I’ve lost myself in the motion let the fish swim beneath my breast And yet each time I’m pulled under the sun too far to touch my face never does my body sunder and crumple in...

  Where Can I Find You? A girl, with hair the colour of honey, giggled while she chased a little bunny through fields of golden hay and black cherries. Suddenly she stopped and asked a fairy, “Beauty, you only appear to a few. When you’re not with me, where can...