The 2025 SCP International High School Poetry Competition Winners (Continued)

 

THIRD PLACE

 

On Rage

by Jiajun Justinian Xiao, 10th grade,
Keystone Academy Beijing

O rage! Thou dire and leaping energy,
There fuming forth and out in jets of heat—
From bod’ly corse to mental faculty
Thou dost invade, upheave the present seat.
Thou, with thy torrents’ mysteries, e’er deep
And dark and fathomless, untamed in state,
Perplex’d in nature: like some primal sleep
In turgid turmoil—chaos dictates fate.
Yet ’tis but pressure swelling tide-cascades;
Soon, open marshes do appear—thy flood
It spreads itself from one to many shades,
So lost in th’ noise of creeping, crawling mud.
Still, I, this rage, this flux it must infect,
For faith in reason’s absence shall reflect.

 

 

The Passion of the Nightingale

by Minkyu (Michael) Koo, 11th grade,
Chadwick International School, Korea

I am a nightingale of tempered throat,
a sparkling chest where first desires take shape,
that hones, through years, the craft of kindling note:
an art that lifts the heart to sing its scrape.

Cascade of silver notes without a seam;
mockingbirds cluster, flawless and unscarred.
No muscle wagers breakage of a dream;
perfection spared the trial of any hard.

I refuse ease that costs identity,
that trades my pulse for forms immaculate,
and tear my plumage, violently free,
to choose the wound that will not seal my fate.

They bear my wings; I will not lift or plead.
I plunge from roost and tear the day apart;
with beak and bone I strike the earth in need,
and bruise the ground to measure out my heart.

I toiled until the ground grew intimate;
the earth unfolded, opened like a gate.
Dirt ran cool, a hush that would not wait,
below the reach of any songs I’d create.

With ecstasy, earth rends my wings to shreds;
the soil unmakes and plucks me to the pith,
and shivered to a barrel fit for depth,
I burrow faster, flayed of flight forthwith.

The burn, alive, bids me to faster go;
heat vines my spine till blood boils bare and red.
Through dirt and depth and fevered undertow
flees the unfeathered fall, the self I shed.

And into water’s grape-dark fluids I break,
as if within a second, softer shell;
and earthborn twice, I wake, recast in ache—
the earth completes me, grape beneath the mill.

No longer nightingale, no feathered limb;
now scales and fangs, a fever spirited.
I swear ophidian oath to blood and vim;
I move through depths.

Within the deep, both roar and stillness burn;
each pressure passes cleanly through my frame.
I do not sing; I let the world return
to singing through me: wild, without a tame.

 

 

The Self-Effacer

by Dante de Jong, Grade 12,
Belmont High School

I wish I was a dancer, footsteps feather-light;
I wish I sang so angel-sweet it made the heavens sigh;
I wish nobody saw me, except my back, in flight,
and that I’d earn love’s hot pursuit instead of just goodbye.

I wish I laughed like silver chimes in a summer breeze;
I wish that perfect iambs didn’t slip into trochee;
I wish I could just hold my tongue with ease.
If I could be much smaller, how wondrous it would be.

They’d all forget about me, like a lovely vase,
Until the day I’d gleam just so and win their sunlight praise.
They’d marvel at my modesty, how well I self-efface.
(No, never like that loud girl, with her demanding ways.)

I wish I was a dancer; I wish I was the muse,
But most of all, I want to be the one you’d choose.

 

 

FOURTH PLACE

 

Aboard My Boat

by Silvia Ursino, 9th grade,
Bainbridge High School

When darkness, pain, and beauty die;
When sun and moon have yet to fly;
When star, and bone, and sea come forth
And with their salt make lovers cry;
In this time of damp and dry
Wind doth grow and grasses sigh;
Hearts and minds and souls all lie
To save the knots and ropes that tie.

The knots that tie, the knots that tie
Save the ropes and knots that tie
Love may burn and joy may die
But save the knots and ropes that tie.

When sky is black and Earth unkind;
When clouds are dotted, stars are lined;
When mud and bush and tree unravel
And anger deep becomes enshrined;
When hope is gone and fears align
Eyes go deaf and ears turn blind;
Teeth’s wheels squeal and brain’s cogs grind
To save the knots and ropes that bind.

The knots that bind, the knots that bind
Save the ropes and knots that bind
Grief may buy what hope can’t find

But save the knots and ropes that bind.

When red is night and brown is day;
When sun’s sad bathes in Earth’s bright ray;
When marrow, roots, and vine dissolve;
When hunger rots, and thirsts decay;
Forget not things you can’t unsay;
They shall not vanish, come what may;
Pain, and grief, and hurt spin away
To save the knots and ropes that pay.

The knots that pay, the knots that pay
Save the ropes and knots that pay
Shallow sadness ends each day
But save the knots and ropes that pay.

The knots that die, the knots that die
Save the ropes and knots that die
Beauty’s grim, courage a lie
Save the knots or all shall die.

 

 

Aubade

by Yan Zhang, 12th grade
Hangzhou Foreign Languages School, Zhejiang, China

I press my head to ground; you draw away,
Then darken when my hands creep close again.
We’re symmetrical, but no mirror today—
Like mermaids dangling where the light is thin.
Dawn hits my back; you slip ahead, spill through
Bushes to mud. I smirk and turn, you rise
To double me. We crash like shells askew,
Withered as dew-wet leaves, to our surprise.
The distance sutures where our shadows blend.
No moon exists to show your fading face.
This isn’t normal. Yet I comprehend:
We fall like clamshells tossed from sea’s embrace.
You vanish where the light and darkness meet,
A silent dance on dawn’s retreating feet.

 

 

Fire of Satan

by Joonsoo Yoon, 11th grade, Rick Reedy High School

Eternal pain to drain the mortal soul,
In lake of soot and sulfur poured of death;
A ruler half in hell than heaven whole,
In maw he brought a dying Christ of breath;
As thundering wills of man of beast to bleed,
To plague a kin to kin and foe to foe;
As scarlet moon erupting human greed,
To those who don’t recall a Virgil’s woe;
It gave the pain to those who dare to raise
His brow against creator sacred high;
But sinful wrath brought loving artful ways,
Escape the nine of hells to human sky;
With moral code to break the thunder’s toll,
Eternal life in gift to mortal soul.

 

 

When Love for Dance Fades

by Elizabeth Visvikis, 11th grade
Morristown Beard High School

A young girl’s love for dance may fade away
While on stage she’s still brighter than the rest.
My shelves of trophies boast that I’m the best.
Resolve and hard work send high praise my way.
Real dancers must miss parties where friends play
To practice pirouettes for a contest.
I’ve packed my other dreams inside a chest
So others may watch me upon display.
Now, I wave bye to dance I once adored
and walk on past my teacher’s fallen face.
Beyond the open door, there shines white light.
The light reveals new paths to be explored.
The better path unclear, I slow my pace.
I turn away. I’ll just be me tonight.

 

 

Lullaby at Shore

by Ilbeom Yu, 12th grade,
Chadwick International School, Korea

In high tide, frothing waves will bubble tunes
With mother’s voice; a rhythm on the rocks,
Entrancing like a cradle under moons,
Right here, my head shall cool, as do the flocks.

Soft hands of foam will hold me as they hush,
And let me sink to sleep on bed near sea,
Where sand and foam turn cheeks and temples flush,
As stars go fill the sky like spirits free.

Though waves will pass away before the clouds,
And sway from high to lowest tides, which slurs
The song, I’ll wait; lie still as silence shrouds,
Till soothing song refills that void of hers.

If this is just another drunken night,
Then take me now, before the sober light.

 

 

HONORABLE MENTION

 

Nothing

by Kalliope Luna Welch, 9th grade
Welch Homeschool

Beneath the Earth
The darkness transpires
Out of the hearth
Flames hush what conspires

Thousands of mouths
Move without speaking
Thousands of us
Speak without moving

Too many pens
Write without writing
Too many eyes
See without looking

How is it that
There’s nothing to write
When the world turns
The day into night

How is it that
There’s nothing to write
Poems go on
Poets lose all sight

 

 

The Island

by Saurabh Bhatt, 9th grade, Greenwich High School

There is a small island out there
With a lighthouse rooted in the sand,
Its light like the waves; always changing warmth.
The salty air leaves a hint of sweetness,
A mourning dove’s call from the green yonder.

Latent, the island presents itself
With waves meeting the shoreline,
And trees swaying in humble greeting.
The beach makes an introduction
With waves high-fiving the shoreline,
And grains of sand between their toes,
Not attaching strings, no rush to leave.

Time moves neither forward nor back
But inward; reversing the grey from hair,
And doctoring the scars from their past.

The moon, a mysterious silver orb
Casts a dancing glow on velvety tides.
The diamond flame shimmers on the waves,
The liquid pearl reflects in their eyes.
Pure childlike wonder frees their tired hearts.
The silver sea glimmers in response,
And the vines of regret leave their lungs.

The lighthouse might fade from view,
But the island remains in their mind’s eye,
Folded among their memories.
Chanced upon in those pauses between thoughts,
Or the silence after a long day.
It always remains a source of solace.

The island doesn’t erase strife-
It holds it gently, and sometimes
that is enough.

 

 

The Empty Flame

by Charlotte Wenneker, 11th grade, Crossroads School

I am not afraid of the empty flame.
I should be composed when it’s my due time,
Alone, I walk with sorrow and with shame.

Told I am to hold the despair I must tame,
To watch, silently, engulfed by the climb.
I am not afraid of the empty flame
That will take me to a place without blame.

Fade as though I’m worth no more than a dime –
Alone, I walk with sorrow and with shame.

Told I will be prepared when dark – she came,
as she’s a warm light in the wintertime.
I am not afraid of the empty flame

I swear, its presence will not turn me lame
I’m told to quit acting as though it’s a crime.
Alone, I walk with sorrow and with shame.

Yet, as life’s restricted from my still frame,
I will lie to you, simple as a rhyme:
I am not afraid of the empty flame.
Alone, I walk with sorrow and with shame.

 

 

Untitled

by Claire Pinheiro, 9th grade, Greenwich High School

The sun hinges on its axis
Swinging its blazing belly high
And when shafts of light frame the Earth
Daffodils raise hungry trumpets

So they dance with its radiance
Dipping and bowing their stems go
Drinking this precious gift of life
Should it be boundless, ever so

And yet sun climbs past horizon
Completing its tedious trek
Painting brilliant hues goodbye
As its crown sinks below the night

And while they shiver in the dark
The cold gnaws at their stems keenly
Sinking its vicious claws deeper
Than any hungry fool could go

Narcissus are stripped now, raw
Still, they raise their trumpets to sky
And when Sun kisses tender stems
They’ll sway their tender bodies

An Echo of what once was true

Still, they continue on…

 

 

Cost of Passage

by Daniel Zhu, 8th grade,
Day Creek Intermediate School, Rancho Cucamonga, California

A boat made by a child set sail before
He heeded passing hours in his mind.
The ocean fighting lost primeval shore
Beat down the last of childhood left behind.
One day, no doubt he’ll find his crippled boat
He’s cursed by years but blessed with insight gained;
He might return to ancient coast, to note
His thanks are sober, for his youth had waned –
Old Age surprised- It’s not embraced in full.
For the seductive nature youth presents
Can hex the wisest, rendering them dull,
With faint regrets that cripple braver sense
And point to former woes, as if revised
Through backward sight, the leap would make them wise.

 

 

Empty Playground

by Dayeon Kim, 10th grade,
Chadwick International School, Korea

Placing a foot
on the flat grass, bag
tossed to the
cushioned floor mats.

My spiraling mind
drops and glides
down the smooth metal slide
with me. Cold spreads
through my padded back.

Gales punch
whitened, shivering knuckles
clutched onto clumps of soil.
The slide trembles from fright.

Street lights sprout
through the dark don’t
spill through the fog
of my mind.

The fog slithers and curls
where I land,
seeps through fabric and tucks itself
inside of me.

 

 

Earth’s Song

by Olivia Kim, 11th grade
Bergen County Academies

Hear the dim harmony
Of the unresolved chord
As smoke drapes a blanket
Of ambiguous shapes
Choking the pulse of Earth
Until the cello sings.
Clearing the imbuing
Of man-made pollution
Hear the lush vibrato
Mimicking cerulean
Waterfalls that splash down
Rushing, crashing, gushing
To the forest of life.
Light bleeds through tundra tops
Shooting light ripping soil
Lumify light inside
Hear the staccatoed notes
Stir forest life awake
From last night’s deep slumber.
Fox greets the new daylight
Prepares grape jam and toast
Grabs his bag and heads out
Clomp, clomp, clomping on
To work beneath the sun
Through the day’s soft magic
Into the Earth’s warm bliss

 

 

The Kitsune

by Claire Kim, 11th grade,
Bergen County Academies

An arid morning stirred with drops of rain
A boy hides behind a rock, fog surrounds him
Foxes in procession, with yellow eyes
Beautiful creatures without wild instinct
All nine tails swaying with perfect grace
The light of the forest becomes voiceless
Silk kimonos drag softly through flowers
The hitsugi homes macabre flesh remnants
Gazing upon him now, severe and torched
Behind their mask is a sinister look
Sharp claws protruding from borrowed fingers
There in the sunless day they poise to strike
Looking for souls loosely bound in the air
Their eyes hold faces of the buried past
He sees every year he has been alive
Those who have chosen to love from the clouds
And now the sudden teardrops in his eyes
are rolling down, onto the rain soaked ground
The boy gets up and starts to walk back home
All solitary and wholly alone