Choice Words Annual Our Generation Creative Writing Contest Brings Out The Best In Local Teenager

To publish or not to publish that was the question. And it was a tough one.

More than 150 young adults from throughout the Inland Northwest submitted fantastic poems on life, love and Elvis. Choosing the best was not easy.

But a committee of representatives from Our Generation’s Teen Advisory Council whittled it down to the sample you’ll see today - a wide variety of poems that touch on many aspects of teen life.

You’ll read a fraction of the poems submitted on this page and Page 2, but we’re holding on to the rest of the entries to publish throughout the school year as space allows. So keep watching Our Generation.

Thanks to everyone who participated. Also on Page 2, look for the list of contributors - every one of them took a risk by sending in their work to be judged.

Freak?

By Tim Harnett Spokane Falls

Does the wink of chrome

flashing from my wallet chain

blind you

as it disappears behind their

Jansport backpacks and Gap shirts?

Do you sniff

at my purple

stained locks that tumble

down the small of my back?

America may be a melting pot

but I stand out like pepper

in a salt shaker.

Upturned noses ‘Humph!’

as letterman jackets jog by;

searching for a basketball game

or a mini-skirted

cheerleader.

Do I like standing out,

a Gulliver among

Lilliputians?

Does the babble of

“Psycho

Freak

psychofreakpsychofreak”

smooth the ride?

Imposing redwoods

surround me.

My sapling will grow -

But will it be a redwood?

The battle

By Heather Stoneman Lewis and Clark

I stared at the spatula

Draped in the largest

Bit of lasagna in the pan

My meek fork

Full of salad

Hardly seemed adequate

Ammunition against it.

I cowered on the opposite

Side of the table

As he stated with confidence,

“Mine is bigger

And it stains worse!”

Forbidden Love

By Carrie Rahm Lake City High

Secrets sweetly sing tonight

and with the stars of heaven we dance,

lost in the disillusionment of perfection.

For when morn breaks

lies will kiss my true love’s lips.

For so regretted is the truth.

Memories condemn my tears

and silently I withdraw forever.

The scars of a forbidden love

etched upon my wounded heart.

I believe

Tammy McKenzie, Jessica Woerz and Nina Hoening Riverside

I believe that aliens abducted Elvis,

Mighty Mouse is a hero and

Pinky and the Brain will try to take over the world.

I believe in legends and myths and

that dreams come true and

Santa Claus comes to my house on Christmas.

I believe the world will come to an end

in the year 2000, but

I believe in saving tropical rain forests and

endangered species anyway.

I believe in Batman and Robin,

Metropolis is a real city, I know

and Superman saves the world.

I believe the Devil made me do it

but lawyers should be shot

and politicians should be poor.

But most of all, I think you

should stop and smell the roses,

watch less TV and accomplish something you can be proud of in life.

Alas, still waiting

By Jennifer Pacheco Ferris

Places to see

People to do

If the time is right - I guarantee

You’ll know

Meanwhile,

I’ll put your parking space on reserve

In case…

Just in case

And when you look at me from across the classroom

I won’t scream or cry or laugh or sigh or smile or wink or bat my eyes with lustful love

I’ll look away and give you

Your space.

Did I tell you?

By Krystal Ziegler Shadle Park

Did I tell you

that I am truly sorry for all

the pain that I caused?

Did I tell you

that it’s not your fault

and I never intended to hurt you?

Did I tell you

that with time, I have

learned to forgive and forget?

Did I tell you

that I am everything I am

because of you?

Did I tell you

that I need you in my life

in order to be strong?

Did I tell you

that I love you more

with every beat of my heart?

Did I tell you

that you are my mother

and for this I owe you my life?

Did I tell you

all that I meant to say

or did I just forget to mention it?

Year

By Jeremy Pataky Post Falls

I will not follow seasons,

go down into the depths of

uneventful days,

nor hasten on to doors

resolvedly closed.

It’s jade mornings

and cream-colored afternoons

that lend me to their rosters of honest disbelief,

of one-time heavy

heartache.

And in the road I

paint dusty footprints

with my feet,

and thin the brush of

experience with rain,

travel on in foggy

dreams and ask them to

come alive.

It is not with eagerness

that I approach

grey walls of hope-bone,

through doors that whispers “maybe.”

But somehow leaves brush up against me,

clouds confess their sorrows,

and illustrate in grey and white,

right there in the sky.

Life lies in a circle,

the fence made up of years,

and spins about over and again

as I stand gazing from this pasture.