See it like a Poet

THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

The yellow light of your bedroom ignites the world around you
Leaving a distinct shine and mysterious shadows behind
The red water bottle and matte grass-green folder,
The crumpled up pieces of paper.
But you consider the fact you have the most unique view
And they cannot see what you see, even when you give them the
Deepest and most graphic description.
THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

They will never see the specific way you have folded your clothes on your chair
They will never see why the wiry end of your broken charger has not ‘clicked’
Away from the crisp white wall which you are too self-conscious to stick posters upon
Because you are scared of how they will see it, what will they say?
They cannot see your inner most secrets or worries
Then again, can you see secrets or worries?
THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

It is said that you can dream some nights,
Maybe about an old friend, an old memory, a recent conversation
But then again, did you really see it? Did you twist things around when you recounted it
To your friends who are not really interested? Do they not care because they cannot fully comprehend this somewhat useless slumberous vision or because they cannot see it?
Yet you feel the urge to tell them
THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

The news reel you see the next morning with dreary eyes plays
“Teens are on technology as much as they sleep top researcher says”
And you stop to realise that your friends are all bowing heads
Not in prayer, but in worship to the rectangular screens, glowing bright
Captivating their eyes most transcendently in spite
Of how distant they all seem from each other
And that scares you.
THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

Daniel (G), Senior Winner

EYE/ I

Are my eyes the same as yours?

Eyes like freckled marbles,
like the wide brown centres of sunflowers,
like pips inside fruit
like open windows diffusing light
Eyes like silver platters that mirror my eyes back at me in an infinite reflection

How can these hard spheres of transparency pushed deep into bone allow me to see you

The eye sees colours
As if it’s a foreign language
As if they are solid 3-dimensional shapes
As if they have personalities attached to them
As if they are the lyrics to a familiar 2016 pop song

Yet I don’t see colours like you see them

The eye recognises emotion
As if it’s labelled in a children’s picture book
As if it’s aware of your own unstable mental state
As if it’s a yellow exaggerated emoji
As if it’s a silent exchange

And yet after all my deliberation,
I don’t see you
not like you see yourself.

Luella (I), Senior Highly Commended

VISION MY WORLD

My world is a world amaranthine imperfection,
A grey lagoon of loneliness in which we all drown,
Or get submerged in because of what we believe,
The colour of our skin or the people we want to see.

It’s a purgatory of torture, discrimination and pain,
Where certain people have more or less to gain.
Whether it’s the gender we have or choose, a disability we posses
Or our family lineage, apparently we stand for less.

This is not a world in which I want to live,
And if I have to, just take away my vision.
I can’t bear to see a flora and fauna like this,
Nor should you, this is not something to dismiss

But when I close my eyes I see a miscellaneous world,
One where everyone thrives as equals, amalgamated.
It’s a vision of bliss, hope and support,
There’s always someone to pull you out of the lagoon.

It’s a perfect vision.

Arabella (M), Junior Winner

NIGHT VISION

To see at night with extra clarity
Make sure the food
You eat is carroty

But if you make
Your meal mushroomier
Then the darkness
Seems much gloomier

Aryan (D), Junior Highly Commended

THEY CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU SEE

EYE/ I

VISION MY WORLD

NIGHT VISION

Quick Links