These are the poems I entered:
Reclaimed
Scrape deep, chip away
Remove the years of grime
Expose the raw material
Intended for a different purpose
Splinters tear the flesh
That lovingly strokes,
Pouring lover's blood
Into the restoration
Ragged and rough as sandpaper-
Yet the lightest touch is fire,
Salt in the open wound
Painful purification
Smooth over reclaimed surfaces
Kissed with sweetest silk
And gently unveil
The undiscovered me
Survival Mode
Where the heck am I going?
Driving blindfolded,
It's hard to stay on the road
Walking zombie, arms outstretched
Snatching anything I feel
Willing this to be it-
The place where confusion lifts,
Epiphanies rest
Frustration! Agh!
When, oh, when will this fog disperse?
Stand on that mountain-rock
Breathing clean air, vision restored
I'm tired of drudging in circles,
Survival mode
Let it end, no more!
My foot is firm, my brow is set,
Refusing to take that sedative
This patient will obstinately
Insist on a change
And these are the art pieces I made:
"Idealism"
The little girl is running down a road of song lyrics about fairytales, towards a sparkly castle in the distance. She hopes that when she reaches her destination, she will live happily ever after. I identify all too well.
"Survivor"
I wanted to portray people who have survived great trauma. Not to show them in despair, but to show the strength that exists in spite of it, even the joy that comes in the rescue. The images clockwise: holocaust survivors, girls marching for children's labor rights, a black slave, girls released from sexual trafficking in Asia, "Hope" with her anchor, a group of impoverished families receiving food from the Salvation Army during the Great Depression, and a picture I took of a tree with birds and an open cage.
