Peace is the wholeness created by right relationships with oneself, other persons, other cultures, other life, Earth, and the larger whole of which all are a part.
The Earth Charter
The 2024 Writers Alliance Peace Poetry Contest yielded fifteen terrific local poets. The theme was “Peace On and With the Earth.” The poets used the above quotation from the Earth Charter to inspire their poetry. WAG was very fortunate to collaborate with two sister organizations that support our community: the Climate Collaboratory and the River Phoenix Center for Peacebuilding (RPCP).
After submissions were collected on November 1, the assessment began. The rubric was provided by well-known local poet, Jenna Nishida. The two judges were Wendy Thornton, founder of the Writers Alliance, and Eric Estling, Managing Director and Trainer at RPCP. Scoring was done in a double-blind format. The judges did not know who the participants were as author names were removed before evaluation, and the participants did not know who the judges were. The judges’ scores of each poem were averaged and then the poems were ranked in order. If two poems received the same score, the tiebreaker was the date of submission. The earlier entry would come first. In the case of the Honorable Mentions, three people got the same score, so all three have been printed in this post.
The Writers Alliance of Gainesville proudly presents the top six poems for the 2024 Peace Poetry Contest. Congratulations!
FIRST PLACE
Wholeness by Debi Vance Skaff
This universal urge
this ache for Oneness
is so powerful
pulling disparate worlds
Closer and closer
Faster and faster
toward each other
For an inevitable collision
and perhaps
after the smoke clears
we will see that it wasn’t a collision after all
But a climactic merging
into Wholeness
and finally
We will know Peace
SECOND PLACE
Peace Is Always Here by Roberta Pearla
Peace is always here
even when you are
sad or lonely
peace is always here
in a stranger’s
smile
a human voice
when a spider
mimes
the air
where a tree’s shadow
looks like lace
at twilight
peace is always here
in the delightful sweet scent
of gardenias
and fresh new grass
during summer months
peace is always here
as we hold dear to
loved ones
as midnight stars
appear
the still-life kitchen table
invites in the years
and with the sun’s warmth
and the winter chills
peace is always here
with autumn’s new orange
leaves
and summer’s yellow
marigolds
peace is always here
even when you don’t care
THIRD PLACE
That Place by Shana Smith
There is ceiling in this place,
Eggshell white and cracked
A resting place for assaulted eyes
From each InstaFinstaXBook post and reel
One after another and another
Each list of do’s and don’ts:
How to rock the retinol
How to get 100 grams of protein
How to keep hydrated
How to stay young
How to freeze in place
So you won’t lose it all
Just like I’m frozen in place now
A place where
Coffee won’t pierce
Sleep won’t revive
Water won’t rehydrate
Retinol won’t smooth
Protein won’t fix.
A place
Of days past hurricanes
Days before elections
Days of conflict that stretch
To years
To generations
Dazed days
Exhausted days
Trauma days
Frozen in place
Because I won’t run
And I won’t fight
I will wait, curled in tight
Staring at the eggshell white
Until my cracking heart
Explodes
Into a million pieces of peace
And meets you
Across the expanse of broken fields
Once filled with homes
Across clear cut forests,
And half-blasted mountains
Littered with bones, rocks, and bark
Across borders and walls and languages and
Other imagined barriers and
That’s when we’ll arrive at
That place
That place where
My voice and yours
Will sing together
That place
Where this is no longer
About “self” and “other”
About “us” and “them.”
If it were, I wouldn’t have been frozen
For so long.
If it were,
Coffee would have worked.
That place
Where the ceiling cracks
So we can see just one blue sky
With the same eye.
With the same eye.
With the same eye.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
The Answer to the Climb by Jenny Dearinger
The turbulence of the climb,
over boulders,
across stony springs,
dodging whips from rogue branches,
worrying about snakes hidden in tall grasses,
tarantulas and scorpions in rock niches.
Bears behind bushes brimming with berries.
How long did we shuffle
through the pine straw covered floor of the forest,
smells of damp mixed with sweat,
sunlight filtering through the canopy of
Lodgepole,
Douglas, and
Ponderosa
before ascending to the sparse forest of ancient bristlecone pines.
I climbed to the top of the mountain to be awed.
Peril encountered at each footstep along the narrow trail.
The wall to my right closing in, pushing down.
Twisted ankles always a possibility as I jump from stone to stone.
Falling, always in the corner of my mind.
Knowing I will have to turn around and return the same way.
How long did I stand at the top,
wind buffeting my back,
mountains as far as I could see in front of me,
a river, mighty and fierce up close,
now a child’s crayon sketch of a worm or a snake far below.
I climbed to the top of the mountain to find wonder.
The path is rugged,
dry,
long and
steep.
Beauty is everywhere.
In the striped pebble under my shoe.
In the wildflowers hanging from inhospitable rocky crevices.
In the clouds rushing breathlessly through the deep indigo sky.
What’s at the top?
Will I find a glen surrounded by aspen,
or boulders like silent sentinels overlooking
a cliff where
Pinion pine and
juniper
grasp at rocky outcrops?
Will I be able to see for miles,
the landscape below
a hazy, shifting
pallet of watercolors?
I climbed to the top of the mountain to feel inspired.
One small slip,
one misstep away from pain
or even death.
Senses awakened,
eyes sharp,
awareness of my mortality dries my mouth,
rings in my ears.
What could possibly keep me climbing?
At the top I breathe.
I relax.
I share a secret with nature.
She shares her secrets with me.
I understand my place in that space,
In that moment as
We become one.
I climb to the top of the mountain to practice peace.
The Ways of Our Days by M. A. Hastings
In these days of democracy
and demagoguery conflation
what will it take to
regain peace in our nations?
What if each of us
were to
Cop an attitude
of love and gratitude
One that thinks of the
Thou’s and Thee’s
before the I’s or the Me’s
One that acts with a view
of years more than a few
when it comes to resources
that never renew
One that takes the high way
throughout those six days
when not sitting in
some sort of pew
And rather than more
rumors spew,
Repeat only
what is
good, lovely
and true
Outside the Safety Net by Charlotte Porter
Is truth possible without peace?
Is peace possible without truth?
asked the prisoner recently deceased
in a daybook tracing slow death
as release, a freedom through toil,
a footpath across native soil
in tug-of-war with tea-pot tsar.
Is a solitary life sentence
a safe call for an honest voice?
Or, is prison Zen a pretense? —
a madness of one disappeared,
missing from all photos, in the ice,
the Polar Wolf penal colony
north of the Arctic Circle,
where the iron never sizzles hot
for a dissident’s release.
While we languish inside, he wrote,
the beloved outside will die.
No good-byes. I soon shall lie
in accordance, undisclosed,
under a silent stone despite
ardent noise in prison yards.
Why mumble faith? Life is simpler
if the marrow takes the punches,
parts sodden seas with wooden shovels,
welcomes spring and waist-high snowdrifts
lifers clear in quilted jackets and, crazed
by cold, mutter orisons to crawl
under a toasty elephant
to regrow noses, fingers, toes
frost-bit so despots can sauna
and spoon cottage cheese with honey.
Yule logs, wreaths, gifts — what fantasies
Holiday kitsch and dear Saint Nick.
Why pretend brave Alexei Navalny is dead?
Hear the man shout from his dirt bed:
There is no golden passport,
no offshore account for bliss.
Continue to be good enough.
Avoid poisoned apparel.
World peace is not a dove.
War is not a metaphor.
CONCLUSION
I want to thank all of the participants and judges.
First, to the participants: I know how much courage it takes to put yourself out there. It’s a vulnerable feeling and I admire your courage. Thank you for sharing your wonderful thoughts and words.
Second, to the judges: You shared with me that it was not an easy task to determine the winner(s) of this contest because all of the poems were creative and introspective, and each author had a unique perspective on the theme of Peace On and With the Earth. Your volunteerism is much appreciated!
Peace is out there, and through the art of poetry, we are that much closer to it.
Thank you,
Jenny Dearinger, President, Writers Alliance of Gainesville
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