Two Seniors Tab Regional Poetry Awards

Clara-Eve L. '23 and Ali M. '23, students in Mr. Chabot's Creative Writing class, placed 1st and 2nd place respectively in the 2023 Plunkett Poetry Festival Contest sponsored by the University of Maine at Augusta. 

The Plunkett Poetry Festival Contest is a yearly poetry writing contest open to all Maine high school students and to all University of Maine undergraduate students. 

Clara-Eve's poem "Coach on my Left Sleeve" took home the 1st place prize, and Ali's poem "Hit" earned the 2nd place prize.

Clara-Eve and Ali were invited to read their winning poems at the Plunkett Poetry Festival on Friday, April 28 at UMA's campus, have their poems published on their website, and attend the Festival's keynote address and dinner.

Clara-Eve and Ali also shared their poems with our Kents Hill community at a morning meeting. "To have two Kents Hill students finish in the 1st and 2nd place spots is an unprecedented accomplishment, and I'm so elated, proud, and excited for these two students," said Mr. Chabot.
 

Clara-Eve Landry was also named one of 20 finalists in the Storm King School Poetry Festival Contest. The contest submissions included 182 poems written by 87 students at 21 schools, and this contest was open to all New England prep school students and public high school students local to Storm King School.

Clara-Eve's poem, "Because it Sounds Like Evacuate" was selected by judges and writers, Joanna Solfrian and Zoe Ryder White, and Clara-Eve was invited to Storm King School on Saturday, May 6 to have her work celebrated and read by the judges during the Festival itself. 

Clara-Eve's poem will also be published and anthologized in a collection of this year's winners. 

Our Creative Writing students have been submitting work to this annual contest since 2018. Clara-Eve is the 8th finalist KH has had in five years. 

Previous winners have included Ava K. '23, Jess L. '20, Ashalia B. '19, Arianna P. '19, Mike C. '18, Annie C. '18, and Tiffany M. '18.

1ST PLACE Winner

“Coach on My Left Sleeve” by Clara-Eve L. '23

The first time I wore a shirt with the word coach embroidered on the left sleeve 
a whistle tied to my neck
a medal not signifying victory, but power and authority
and to the vibration of one tweet, players race toward me, like a herd of bison.

The first time I wore a shirt with the word coach embroidered on the left sleeve, paralyzed 
behind the white line, like a statue, forbidden to run, kick, or dribble.
Mounted behind the bench, shouting commands, a way to cope with my grief, knowing
my days on the field are numbered.  

Watching them, I travel to the past 
A memory of myself, I see in the grin invading their faces 
At ease 
with a ball at my feet morphing into a part of me 

With the word coach on my left sleeve 
yearning for the days that age robbed me. 
How can I look back on the best years of my life, when I thought I just started living?
Now only memories, fading forever

The first time I wore a shirt with the word coach embroidered on the left sleeve
and I lose the grip on my emotions, 
left with guilt,
forgetting the number one rule is to have fun

The word coach replaced the number on my left sleeve,
my role has changed. They look up to me for guidance, 
but little do they know, I am learning just as much from them,
as they are from me

2ND PLACE Winner

“Hit” by Ali M.'23

The first time you can see your future clearly
Set for you like a dining room table.

The first time you tie the laces to your skates,
And strap the leather bounds too tight,
You feel the pinch in your calves

The first time you hear the pound of the puck against the once porcelain-white leather
And a black streak is left in its wake
And your eyes follow the rebound,

And the world goes quiet.
As the lines on your mask go away, your face goes hard,
And you're in it.

The first time you get hit with the rubberß
The dull sting of a powerful shot 
Whipping your head around to find the puck again

And you realize this is it, this is the moment 
where everything either changes or stays the same.

This is where you are meant to be.
Out on the ice, you smile.
And then the puck hits you.

 

 

Because it Sounds Like Evacuate

By Clara-Eve L.'23

  

The sound of suspenseful music slowly fills a room. It puts you on edge 

as you wonder, what's next

while an imposter creeps around wearing 

a black suit with a black bowtie, holding a black briefcase to blend in.  

To advesperate must mean to leave space like you were never there.

Like in the movies when a secret agent “shoulder rolls” out of sight to evade a space 

undercover on a secret mission, making impulsive decisions, 

avoiding the revelation of their identity 

The bitter taste of doing something you’re not supposed to do

on the tip of their toes and nobody knows and to advesperate is their only escape.

 

But to advesperate really means to draw towards evening.

As dusk falls deep below the burning clouds 

Earlier blue, now orange and pink, later dark 

Unique every day and everywhere the twilight drowns 

in the horizon and you can’t resist taking  

a picture with your phone that will never reflect the true beauty of the moment.  

As the sky begins to advesperate, it tastes like cotton candy and feels 

like the soft feathers of an owl. 

To advesperate is when the day goes to sleep and life dies for an instant, 

the end of a chapter, until the light comes again.

Time ticks slowly toward the night as the last glimmer of sunlight 

illuminates the sky and it's suddenly dark and it feels so quick like the flick of a light switch.