April is National Poetry Writing Month! To celebrate that, we asked our followers on social media to send us poems they'd written in the past month. These artists went above and beyond with their poetry, exploring themes from asexuality to feminism. Continue reading for a selection of poetry from poets around the globe, coupled with comments by our editor, Bri. If you like what you read, you can check out these artists' social media handles to read more of their work! As always, thank you for your continuous support, we wouldn't be where we are without it <3
Friends
by Sammy
Always keep them close,
Some will stay,
Some will go,
You never know who might end up being your friend,
But always know they'll be there till the end,
Because they are your friends.
Bio - Sammy is a 12 year old girl from India who has been very interested in poetry and writing since last year. In February 2023, she started her mixedgram (an account on which she shares different things, not only writing but art, cooking etc.)
Instagram - @the_words_you_missed.
Comments - I love the vague yet intriguing first line that really draws in the reader; who is them, and why should we keep them close? The immediate follow-up of the answer maintains the rhythm and the elaboration feels so natural. The final two lines that wrap it up nicely are very comforting!
Poppies
by Claire Kroening
Their eyes speak in poppies:
spring rain, sunset-valleys,
sound calmness where
it's enough to just be;
blossoms of Venus starbright
ever unfolding,
ever growing,
ever loving -
for everything else
becomes clear
like the grass peaks through
the sundrenched-warmth
for now is enough
in their icy-blue.
Used napowrimo prompt - Eyes
Bio - Claire Kroening is a queer poet based in Wisconsin. Their work has been published in Honeyfire Lit, Intersections Magazine, Maythorn Magazine, and The Globe Review, among others. In their free time they appreciate visiting art museums and studying creative writing. More of their work can be found on Instagram.
Instagram - @clairerosek
Comments - The first line is fresh, original and eye-catching! The vivid descriptions flow extremely well together as you gradually shift to motions (ever unfolding, ever growing, ever loving) and end nicely with a final subject looping back to the theme of “eyes” and a transformation.
The Watchman and His Cat
by Shamik Banerjee
I know a watchman and his cat;
He, with it, every night and day,
Sits and guards a landowner's flat,
And does not very often say;
When I his small guardroom pass by,
A nice rictus by him is shown,
But never much can converse I,
Though full five years he has me known;
His family, did long demise,
Are dead too, the cat's kitlings three,
Perhaps, they find in each other's eyes,
Mitigation from agony;
Blessed is their bond, but more than that,
A loveness no one cognize can,
Save the watchman who loves his cat,
And the cat who loves his watchman.
Bio - Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.
Instagram - @where_tales_end
Comments - The first line is great at drawing in the reader. I love how you continue on to describe their routine, providing familiarity between the reader and cast. I loved the relationship of each character with the persona and how they seem at first to mean nothing until you explain the history and we come to like the new characters, understand their story. The ending is sweet and perfect for the overall piece.
The First
by Ines Mueller
I try to think of good times between you and me, but the memory keeps running away.
Dress billowing in the wind,
laughing over her shoulder,
looking at me with an “I know something you don’t know”
kind of childish glee. She’s not wrong
but she is dead.
And as I watch you read her eulogy,
the paper steady in your hands,
your crisp black suit melts into
yellow and orange and red
with vibrant pink flowers
blooming on green grass, stained glass,
the organs’ melancholia.
I shouldn’t be here, I think,
but she keeps running
and running
and running
until she is gone, over the horizon.
Bio - Ines likes to read and write, taking inspiration from her life and her chaotic brain. She lives in California.
Instagram - @ines.m.m.
Comments - The jarring comparison of the present and then dive into the joyful memory is great, especially when you reveal the surprise that she’s dead. I love the imagery you create in the funeral scene and the line “the organs’ melancholia”. I like how in the end we realise that the persona is leading up to regret and missing this person.
A Bit Of Advice
by Zia Adora
Shining brightly in the sky up above,
Shimmering, sparkling and glowing.
Like a mirror ball made out of ivory,
Lighting up the vivid night sky.
Being a companion of the stars and
Inspiration for poets to write about.
The moon always stole people's hearts.
But a bit of advice,
The moon also has a darker side,
Murky, gloomy, obscure.
Dark and rough like it's made from obsidian.
Disguising itself as the vivid space it's floating in.
Always forgotten and left out,
Wondering if someone, somewhere wrote a poem about its darkness too.
Pondering if people realize it's the same moon who they admire for it's beauty,
But never search for its presence when its showing its true self.
When it's finally showing its darkside.
Bio - Zia is just an insomanic poet who turns her sadness and anger into poems and could be found hunched over her phone reading whatever book she currently found interesting with a cup of tea and her earphones at 3am in the morning.
Instagram - @sleepdeprived_writer
Comments - I love the overall flow. Fantastic imagery especially “like a mirror ball made out of ivory” really stood out to me. I love how you compared light and dark and gave the moon personality, linking it’s existence to something more, something deeper, like the side of a person not many people know: the “darkside” as you say.
A Teaspoon of Sand
by Kiran
A slam of a door
Being brushed off as a joke
It all starts so innocent
‘A favor?’ they ask
Already stabbing my back
It wasn’t like this before
Before it was bright
It was love and it was light
Now it’s dark
Its words and claims of my worthlessness
Clanging in my ear
I can hear them, feel them, see them
Through my eyes, though
Covered in a velvet cloth
All I do is sit and wonder
With a glass of water in my hand,
Would I dissolve into myself
If I was a teaspoon of sugar
Or would I remain
Like a teaspoon of sand?
Bio - Kiran is a young writer and poet from India. Usually found daydreaming and writing in the back of her maths notebook, she aspires to be a published author someday. She hopes that her poetry resonates with the reader and moves them, even if it is a minute shift.
Instagram - @kiran.writess
Comments - Overall, a sorrowful piece with a fantastic first line with drama, leaving readers curious! I also love the comparison of past and present and the light and dark symbolism. The description of the impact of the words are intense and you end with a new found question that readers themselves may reflect on as well.
An Average Day
by Nethi
tw; some imagery of blood
how did it feel when you kissed her in your bedroom last night?/
did her lips taste of too-sour lemonade or was it sweet enough for your liking? /
i promise i'm not hurting but the acid in my heart keeps on burning/
i wish you'd stabbed me in the heart/
instead of shoving me down the nearest well/
rendered me unfeeling instead of cursing me blind/
at least then i'd know what's good for me and avoid all that screams beautiful disaster/
sometimes i sit in my bathroom crying/
wondering how wounds so deep haven't killed me from the inside yet/
what was love but a poisonous lie/
disguised in wrapping paper and a handful of ribbons/
guess what?//
i broke the 'stranger danger' rule/
jumped off the edge of the swimming pool double time/
and now i'm sinking into a swamp that once promised me so much/
so much for happiness//
my blue heart is wide open, like a wound and i'm bleeding the red onto my pillows/
all while you kiss her in your childhood bedroom.
Bio - Nethini is a Sri Lankan queer teen with a heartfelt passion for writing poetry. She also has a deep love for music and dreams of being able to play 'cardigan' by Taylor Swift on the guitar one day.
Instagram - @venus.in.verse
Comments - The jealousy conveyed in this is powerful and the suffering is also done well. I enjoyed how jealousy is conveyed through the descriptions of the persona’s reactions and how it effected them; the diversity of these demonstrates your creativity and I love how you ended the piece with a personal note: “and now I’m . . . “ which lends a personal melancholy finale.
Skin
by Pratiksha
Flash floods of sun-soaked memories,
Whirl into my mind,
But I can still see undertones of shadows, plain as day
Lurking. Skulking. Prowling like animals.
Waiting to take over.
Shadows of insecurity, of jealousy
Shadows of longing
For the people I yearn to be.
Shadows that sweep me into rivers of fantasy,
Only to crash me into ravines as the morning comes.
How long will I have to beg, borrow and steal,
The very essence of people,
Who've committed no crime,
Except the mere one,
Of confidence, of genuinity?
I seem to become one with my fears,
I lurk, skulk and prowl,
In the dark corners of a room.
Waiting, watching,
For a chance to transform into another.
How many skins do we have to try on till one finally fits?
Bio - Pratiksha is an aspirational young writer who can usually be found reading fantasy novels in the corner of her room. As an avid reader and writer, Pratiksha hopes that her work resonates with people and allows them to gain a fresh perspective of the world by looking at it through different lenses.
Comments - The visuals in this are intense and vivid. The universal themes are also extremely relatable and beautifully described and the circle back to the movements of the ‘animals’ make for a fitting, satisfying conclusion.
A Love Letter To The Moon
by Nyx
How do I make my whole life a love letter to the moon?
The stars came to life
They say by being yourselves, being happy,
by loving yourself for who you are,
by being easy on yourself, by living.
I asked, “what do you mean?”
They say that living is the rarest thing, most people just exist.
They continued by admiring its beauty every night.
Sometimes you can click on pretty pictures of it.
I said that I do all this generally as well.
They responded, “You see, your life is already a love letter to the moon.
You just have to treat yourself better.”
Bio - Nyx is a student and loves writing, singing and listening to music.
Instagram - @_she_.writess
Comments - The message in this poem is profound. The flow of the poem is beautiful as it describes the meaning of life and what it means to live and I love how you chose to explore that with both actions and the dialogue. Love that you end of a sweet note of self love
April Is The Cruellest Month
by R S
(Inspired by T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land")
April is the cruellest month,
Harbinger of hope, summer's prelude;
Springing daisies, springing lilacs,
At best a fleeting interlude.
For hope ignites a sweltering fire,
And turns to ash sweet content;
April begets whim and desire,
In hearts wallowing in lament.
It saddles yearning to the heart,
When fleeting is its innate nature;
April is the cruellest month,
With fickleness as its signature.
Bio - R.S. is a denizen of India who writes Poetry to find harmony in life. She graduated with Honours in English and loves to read and write poetry. She rises early to feel inspired with the morning star and create new rhymes.
Instagram - @thepoetrywindmill
Comments: I love the personification of April. It’s beautiful how you discuss the traits of the month to mean more than a season but you go on to list visuals and feelings that occur to the persona with exquisite language. I felt really moved by the balance of feeling and visuals that you painted as well.
Desiderium
by Jason Wu
The past acts as an aide-memoire,
reminding you of evanescent events and those that span a long time,
constantly giving a poignant sensation.
No matter how ignoble one may feel,
concordance and eudaimonia free from restraint
allows your soul to return to its peaceful state,
letting one be free of lost desires.
Bio - Jason is a determined writer with dreams of becoming a author. He is also a volunteer/localization expert for Lemcnsun Entertainment and Soul Tide.
Instagram - @editor_masterwu Comments - The use of vocabulary is masterful to bring out the message of reminiscing the past! I love how the second stanza is hopeful, and reminds us that we can be free of the memories of the past. Short but sweet!
A Love-Stricken Fraud
by Shu
when i see you,
all the way across the room,
i feel a twinge in my heart.
i don’t know why,
but i blush when you come near me,
and i love it when you speak.
my friends say i should try.
but wouldn’t that be a bad idea?
i have no clue how to talk to you.
your presence makes my brain melt.
that’s what all the love-stricken people write,
isn’t it?
should i write that too,
despite not being able to fall in love,
just so i can fit in?
i stare at the poem,
then rip it out and toss it away.
Bio - Shu is an Asian Canadian in high school. They're interested in politics, history,
typology, K-pop, and of course, writing. He has a love for weird reels, cats, and almost every dark-coloured aesthetic in existence.
Instagram - @wlvshuu
Comments - This encapsulates the idea of a fresh, young love well. I love the natural feeling of flow and stream-of-consciousness, nearly like a diary from a coming-of-age movie. The end is a brilliant twist that is like a breath of fresh air.
A poem
by Aki Rayne
the colors that you've painted me
in are all the wrong shade now.
the words that found a way to
leave my throat come out wrong.
and my image is tainted with
something murky and dark.
casting a shadow on all that
had once been my light.
a change that is irreversible.
and I will forever be marred
with the aftermath of a
changed opinion because
what others think you to be
is all that you are and ever will be.
they put the words in your mouth
but you're the one who's pleading
for another chance on your knees.
but you're the one in shackles
on the ground for everyone to see.
the painting "ruined by the people,"
not more than a forgotten memory.
Bio - Aki is another eighteen year old who's trying to find their place in the world. Aki is slightly obsessed with writing, and you'll find poetry, details about their wip and things like moodboards and interactive posts as well on their account. Poetry is Aki’s coping mechanism and they hope their poems are something that others can resonate with.
Instagram - @writeyourwoes.aki
Comments - This was a fast-paced read that described anguish and anger well. The constant listing of all the bad things from the persona’s perspective are brisk but intense. The middle that reveals why they are so upset is done well and the twist towards the end, the switching of roles is a great twist.
Dawn: A Terza Rima
by Vastriane
"Did being late become your brand, my child?" I felt myself grow older with a sigh
and die with work and children in my mind.
The door unpeeled itself, divulged the sky,
then all at once the world unravelled true:
while hums of leaves replayed a sapling's cry,
I squint against the shine of morning dew,
I see the tree seemed smaller, branches skinnier,
and the leaves were less distressed like it was new.
Oh, how the sun reflected years of blur
and the wind carried me like mother did years ago,
before the labor meant “I’m happier,”
and shadow was my fear— now friend and foe. "I can't believe I'm late for freshman year!"
That sounds like a rainbow fading in glow...
Truly, the rainbow vanished and the sun appeared; it opened its eyes like it did back then,
when I touched her first, my sapling, dear.
I sigh— relieved. The door's agape again.
Bio - Ianna Reign, writing under her pseudonym Vastriane, at the age of twenty-one, is currently an undergraduate student in University of Sto Tomas in the Philippines. She is majoring in Bachelor of Arts, Creative Writing, and is pursuing the art of poetry. She is an aspiring novelist and poet, greatly inspired by POC musicians, authors, and artists.
Instagram - @vastriane
Comments - A thought-provoking piece. The universal feeling of one being late and embarrassed in front of the class is a great start. The rhyme in this poem is beautiful. The description of nature and the apparent theme of growing up is demonstrated well together.
I Thought Of You Again
by Allison
i thought of you again
Not because i missed you
But because the memory of you sticks
like molars rooted in the gums, unrelenting and stubborn.
Can't stop the odor of bile and teardrops, not like soap and unwrapped erasers
like how it used to be.
i thought of you again,
Not because i want you to come back
But because i see you standing in the crossroads of my mind again
Ordering soft pork buns and crispy scallion pancakes…
Sometimes i want to let go of that memory
i want a seagull to swoop down and pluck you out of my mind,
Wipe you away like a soup stain at the corner of my mouth,
Watch you disappear into a crowd like a stranger (even though you already have),
i thought of you again
Not because you are a simple muse for my sappy poetry
But because i loved you in all forms love can take,
And you mean more to me than words can ever capture.
And i assume I'm supposed to wait until your color fades
Like the lettering of old newspapers
And maybe I’ll read them again from time to time
Until the thought of you dwindles away.
Bio - Allison Kwan is a 19-year-old student currently undertaking a biology degree but is a writer at heart. You can find her cultivating her inner zen by practicing yoga, huddled in bed reading fictional novels and learning new languages in her free time.
Instagram - @cloudykorner
Comments - Grief is portrayed well. Insanely natural flow and I love the sense of denial and missing of a person which I could with every memory described. The diverse comparisons lend this piece a sense of freshness with every line.
She don’t need a crown
by Tapasya Bhardwaj
She didn't need a crown
She has a sword in her hands,
She can even cut the bodies.
But now she is sitting there silently, maybe counting the buried memories.
She is confident like a lioness,
don't need a king to keep her safe.
She is a bird who belongs to the sky, one day she'll fly away after burning her cage.
She is a sword with diamond,
as dangerous as she is sweet. She is aware of herself very well,
quit already if you can't take her heat.
She is a rose with thorns,
won't let you touch her delicate side. She has covered her beautiful face, in order to save you; not to hide.
She's already a queen, don't need a king, don't need a castle, she lives in our heart. With poison flowing in her veins,
she is alone enough to tear you apart.
She don't need a crown on her head, her sword is enough for her identity. If you think she is not strong,
then you're only alive because of her serenity.
Bio - Tapasya Bhardwaj, a young writer, trying to explore the world of words and dive in it. Loves reading, writing, art, rain and music. She believes that every word needs to be woven to form a poem.
Instagram - @laxmisharmabtp123
Comments - I loved how empowering this was. The various comparisons of the persona are beautiful and so is the rhyme. I also adore the self-awareness the persona has as it brings home the theme of independence in a woman and the ending warning truly captures the danger she poses.
To learn more about the artists, visit our instagram account @rewritethestarsreview and follow the link to the respective contributors' pages.
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