2018 AstroPoetry Winner - Young Adults Category

Jun 19
2018
Bob Eklund, AstroPoetry Blog Editor

Congratulations Entrants

 

First Place

 

Xulu Lin, Dunedin, New Zealand

My Quantised Sky

I look it up in my textbook, 'quantised'--
Featured with discrete values and states.
I look upon the night sky--
Capturing bits of my fantasy
Sparkling me with crazy thoughts
Under my 'quantised' sky.

Mars, Saturn, Uranus
Red, orange, greenish--
The Quantised leap
Instantaneously
Of electrons
No distance is covered
Just Releasing the quantum of Colours
For now I am an electron.
A quantised jump carries me
Back to where I belong--

Stars, galaxies, nebulae
Light years away
Give me the atavistic blinks
Revealing the past that is never gone
As I see it at present.
For now I am one of the blinks
Ramble between the 'quantised' worlds
Back to where I belong--

The universe.
Because when I look upon the night sky
Someone also looks down upon the 'quantised' sky
That I live in.


Second Place

 

Diya Gupta, New Delhi, India

Untitled

The planets leads a quiet life
Not far above the ground;
They takes an elongated path
They travel all around.

They leave the lighted metropole;
Not turn to look behind
Upon the headlands of the soul,
The tundras of the mind.

They climb together through the dusk;
To ask the lost and found
For the information on the stars,
Not far above from the ground.

The planets seems to journey on
And follow them, I
Take up my monocle, the moon
And gaze into the sky.

Pursuing them with comic art
Beyond the cosmic goals,
I see the whole within the part,
The part within the hole.

See planets wheeling overhead,
Mysterious and slow,
While morning buckles on their head
And on the planets go.


Third Place

 

Ritvik Dutta, Noida, India

Night Sky

Oh! The night sky, the never-ending dome,
Full of constellations sublime and starry,
A transcendent world from an ethereal tome,
A world grandiose, radiant and free.

The grand Sagittarius, tall and proud,
The nourishing Virgo, kind and magnanimous,
Tenacious Hercules, unyielding and strong,
Fervid Orion, depraved and vengeful.

Each star holds a story,
A myth, a tale, a memory,
These resplendent, luminous orbs of light,
Are, for each one to see, an exquisite sight.


Honorable Mention

 

Anubha Tomar, Noida, India

FLY ME TO THE MOON…

The night is young as I lay on the sand dunes and
Gaze at the open sky, the bright stars and the ethereal beauty of the moon.
Ah! Even as I struggle with earthly turmoil
The vices, tensions and stresses of the soil
I see the moon so tranquil, serene, devoid of any vice.
Emanating peace, akin to that of a paradise.
The moon so bright, lights up the sky so diverse,
With me and my earth, it shares the same universe.
Yet, think
Why is our earth burdened with strife, hatred, envy and violence at its brink?
Here is our earth so distressed, hurt and bound in fetters by mankind,
While there circles the moon, so free and with the universe - perfectly aligned.
Maybe it is so 'cause it has not yet been ravaged by ambitious humanity,
Its existence is not yet endangered to satisfy human vanity.
See, it brightens our world up, night after night
Even though it lives on borrowed light.
I wish I could go up there and experience the virgin spaces,
Beyond the confines of caste, creed, religion, beyond violence, corruption and difference between races.
A place where the canvas is still plain,
A story is yet to be written, a painting to be made without any strain.
Alas! My drowsy eyelids announce my sleepiness too soon,
Oh! Someone please give wings to my dreams and....
…… fly me to the moon!


Honorable Mention

 

Dina Aisyah, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Untitled

Picture of colours blue and grey, 

Van Gogh's handiwork on display,
Meritoriously titled "Starry Night",
To numerous was a meretricious sight. 

Vincent reaches to tell,
He seeks to relief,
His consuming tale,
Of the night sky above. 

His swirling pattern,
Vivid mixture of yellow and its gradients,
A sense of protection,
He senses from the night constellation. 

The chiaroscuro of his belief,
Subjected by the curlicue strokes of his brush,
Ceases to convey a perspective,
Ought to captivate modern minds.

Analysing Vincent's work,
Here I realise,
The vast peaceful coverage,
A representation of solace.

The esoteric piece,
An escapism of his,
Translates to a protection for the village beneath,
Now concealed to be viewed with fees.

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