Congratulations to the 2016 Winners of the Jessamy Stursberg Poetry Prize!

The Jessamy Stursberg Poetry Prize for Canadian Youth was established to foster a lifelong relationship between Canadian youth and the literary arts, specifically poetry. The prize is supported through a generous donation from the Stursberg family and other donors in honour of Jessamy Stursberg. The prize accepts submissions from young poets all across Canada, with three prizes awarded in both the Junior (grades 7 to 9) and Senior (grades 10 to 12) categories: 

Winner: $400
Second Place: $350
Third Place: $300 

Without further ado, we present your 2016 Jessamy Stursberg Poetry Prize winners:

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Senior winners

Jury: D.S. Martin, Honey Novick and Deanna Young

First place, senior: “On The Roof” by Aubry Williams

With every jump, I could see a little more of the horizon,
and I watched
as it faded from freshly minted pennies to baskets of chili peppers into
absolute zero blue

that obscured the treetop canopy and its horrible needle rictus grin.
I watched
as the planet spun like blades in a blender and Mongolia once more
greeted the morning,

its dusty steppes stealing the light away from me
and plunging me headlong into cloudy
broken
night

With every apex another star reared its head,
with every apex Helios approached his crescendo
before vanishing into day,
the way a cougar approaches a hiker and vanishes into the bush.
I dove nose lips ears into the stratosphere.
My lungs bloated in thin air, ready to burst, like two bronchial balloons.
The wolf in my ribs howled
over the backyard fence
at the moon.
declaring to the Scottish heather
the japanese maple tree
a two-foot St. Peter with a lichen beard
that I was indeed alive.

Judges’ Comments: The poem is finely crafted, its sentiment beautifully expressed. It leaps into action with exuberance, and creates wonder by juxtaposing the familiarity of a backyard scene and the mystery of the wild. Its experimental form, shifting metaphors and jarring imagery combine to lead the reader through to the poem’s final epiphany, where the howl of the interior wolf comes fully alive.

Second place, senior: “A Goodbye” by Harmony Diane Taetz

It was October, rainy.

We drove six hours to get there

but we didn’t leave until the day of because

we didn’t want to

prolong the sadness.

When I looked down at you

it was like seeing a plastic doll

and that was when I wanted

to cry, knowing I’d never again look at

your handsome face

but I fought a quiet battle-

to stay strong

and let my father be the one

to cry as he said goodbye to you

too.

Afterwards there were cakes and

those little sandwiches that my seven year old self

always aspired to make for her tea parties but

I pushed that thought way because

I didn’t want that childhood memory to be

forever tinged with sadness.

People milled about in the cold basement under the church.

I guess they were old friends of yours.

I didn’t recognize half of them.

They wanted to console me and talk

about you

but I didn’t want to

and since I was too old to

run away,

I hid in the bathroom instead.

At the end the family looked smaller;

suddenly I was afraid,

just terrified of all the ghosts I saw

in the shadows.

You were the glue, Grandpa.

Once you were gone I was

sure we’d all fall apart.

It rained again

so relatives headed home.

In the parking lot

I whispered goodbye.

Judges’ Comments: In a clear and meditative voice, this poem draws the reader in and speaks volumes without saying too much. It smartly uses plain language, and devices such as symbolism and line breaks, to create tensions and complexity. In telling its story, it traverses time, taking meaningful twists and turns through memory along the way.

Third place, senior: “Promise Breaker” by Kelsey Tishinski

When we first started dating
you held my hand
and saw my addiction
up and down my arms
you made me promise
from that day forward
I would never again
hold a razor in my hand

A couple months later
you made a promise yourself
you said we would be together forever
no matter what happened
we would talk everything out
and stick together through thick
and thin

A year later
you broke your promise
with five words saying
“this isn’t going to work”
and I learned that you are a promise breaker
and I have a bad habit
of following in your footsteps

Honorable mentions:

“Why I hate Art” by Hasen Abouzeeni

“Cradle Boat” by Churan Chen

“Dream Job” by Laura Williams

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Junior Winners

Jury: Naomi Wakan and Yvonne Trainer

First place, junior: “For a Child Somewhere” by Muneeza Sheikh

Wince

when the rocks dig into your hands for I know that they will

Bleed.

Long

for a figurine of your favorite superhero for I know that you

Ache

for one.

Fret

the work of tomorrow for I know that you will

Not succeed.

Worry

about scavenging your food in the debris for I know that you will

Find none.

And carry not that-

Smile

of yours,

For I cannot bear my

Sweet

candy knowing that you have

never tasted anything like this before.

Judges’ Comments: Apart from the very humanitarian feelings behind this poem (the idea that one cannot fully enjoy things when people elsewhere are deprived of even the basics for living), the judges appreciate the way the poet has spaced the poem on the page, so that the reader has to pause and give full attention to every word in it. Not only is the poem laudable in that the poet knows how to attain a lot of mileage out of a few words, but also many of the words do double duty and hold double meanings. Further, the juxtaposition of long and short lines works to establish a jagged rhythm that fits the strong emotion in the poem. In this poem that contrasts survival with childish delights, the presentation is stark and the speaker thoroughly understands the subject. The young writer’s ability to communicate is breathtaking.  The poem demonstrates a superior sense of craft in its concise and artful use of words, and it deserves loud applause.

Second place, junior: “Blank Pages” by Sadie Bell

White is the icy hands that drag you into the nightmares.
White is the lightening that strikes without thought.
It is the blizzard that sweeps you into a hole of despair,
concealing the footprints of the criminal as it blows.
The bones of the boy,
who died too young,
the icing on the birthday cake she never got to eat.
It is the colour of your teeth,
bleached,
to hide the bitter taste in your mouth.
The colour of the lies you convince yourself won’t hurt anyone,
but she rips up her white wedding dress when she realizes the truth.
White is the clouds you dreamt of sleeping on when you were a kid,
until you grew up and realized the world is not a dream.
White is the colour of the halo you just realized no one has.
It is the noise you need to hear at night to drown out the screams.
It is the smoke that poisons your lungs,
and the fog the wraps around you and makes you invisible to the world.
White is the unwritten words,
on a blank page,
that could have saved a life.
It is the innocence you wish you could regain.
White is the springy wool on the unsuspecting lamb,
as it’s being led to the slaughter.

Judges’ comments: The writer’s own predicament is presented in the title. Then the writer fills the empty space with other instances of white. The writer avoids clichés, repetition and trivialities. The poem gives surprises (as all good writing should) at how many ways “white” can be associated with things both positive and negative. It is in fact, the juxtaposition of plus and minus e.g., “springy wool” and “lamb to the slaughter” that keeps this poem startingly fresh. Further, the poem is rather intriguing in that it draws from early literary images of “white” and combines them with new images. The poem shows how white can symbolize tings that are both hard and tender. “Blank Pages” fits in the category of “list poems,” and in and of its kind works quite well.

Third place, junior: “The Wind’s Face” by Frida Purdon

The Wind runs through the trees.
She runs as if she is on fire, as if she is escaping herself.
She is free. She is flying.
It is beautiful to watch her move this way, she is part of everything, and yet, completely her own creature; she is one of those people you see on the streets, the colour of cigarette ash and their eyes wandering aimlessly, and you wonder where they live and what their life has been like, and what their name is. They mouth a word as if trying to remember a shopping list their mother gave them long ago.
The Wind is proud, but she is beleaguered.
The Wind dances and falls, she makes the leaves of the trees applaud, and the wispy hair of the people chase after her until they must be tucked behind ears.
She is a collector; she picks up everything she can carry and spins with them in her dance, her dance that no one can match. Pop cans, dry cleaner receipts, leaves, seeds, anything she can find. They dance together, the Wind always singing to the earth’s rhythm, always off-key, her lyrics always better. But she always loses interest and discards the trash on the cold sidewalk, and they watch her go with the taste of bitter sadness in their mouth.
Once a year, the Wind returns home. She is tired from all her travels and all the things that she has seen and will never be rid of. She is coated in life’s residue. She wants to be renewed. She wipes herself clean of all that has happened and returns to her bed fresh and blank. For a night she is no one.
For the next year she will be redrawn, the world claiming her. Every whisper gives her a scar. The world carves her. Her identity is not her own to choose. Without this life around her, the harshness, she is faceless.
The Wind has seen many things. She has felt many things. She has heard many things. Everything is a pin dropped into a well: the scent of your perfume, the word you wished you had never said, she carries it all with her. It is all her burden. This makes her life’s most magnificent sculpture.

Judges’ comments: This is an amazingly rich and mature poem. The many imaginative aspects of the wind make this prose poem a kaleidoscope of images that surprise and delight e.g., “They mouth a word as if trying to remember a shopping list their mother gave them long ago.” This poet has produced such freshness for what could have been a collection of clichés. Further, the many one-syllable words make this poem move quickly. The reader feels carried along, observing life from the wind’s perspective. Yet the images presented are unique so that the reader has to pause to take them in. This wild and energetic poem can be enjoyed for many readings.

Honorable Mentions:

“Where I’m from” by Michelle Nock

“Playgrounds” by Oluwafikunmi Kilanko

“The Xs and Os “ by Aneesha Sra