Given Poems – National Poetry Day 2024 – Under-16s

Here is our selection of the entries for Best Poem by Under-16s for the Given Words competition for National Poetry Day. They all had to include the following five words: feather, whisper, time, eat, and phanstasmagoria.

You can read the winning poem Gallery Exhibition No. 73.16 by Miranda Yuan and the poem My Grandad is a Wizard by Bhaarati Sharma which received a Special Mention, along with the judge's comments here and the poems from the Adult's category here.

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Liminal Archive

Mountains of files,
Walls stretching to the heavens,
the archive of memories,
for each person on this earth.

And if you stand quite still,
and wait for your song to cease,
you can hear them,
whispers of things,
lost to the wild ocean of time

The chatter from dinner, perhaps.
Silver ringing against deep mahogany,
sharing a hearth and heart while they eat.
Chatter and laughter muffled by a wall.
The snarling of a hound.
And sirens?

Or the biting sting of cold,
as two people huddle close.
Wailing cries of misery,
barking shouts of laughter,
the hum of empty silence.
All these things

Yet no one can access this place.
No hand, paw, scale, or feather.
These halls, neither in past or future,
and furthest from the present.
These halls of phantasmagoria
are to be kept hidden.

To the few that discover them.
who long for days where everything came easy,
you may walk through the endless shelves
looking through each cupboard and cabinet.

You won't find anyone.
Nobody is there any more.

Olivia Moreau, aged 14
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Phantasmagoria

Phantasmagoria takes all
time with it
eating away
the life of
this world.
Like smoke whispering
to the trees
telling all the secrets
of the earth.
It gossips of magic
as soft as silk,
spun from
the tail feathers
of a phoenix
and dragon fur
stolen from deep
in the heart
of the universe.

Evie Parsonson, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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she shuts her eyes / the world drops dead

within her skull a carnival of chaos unravels like a feather tapestry.
she dances on the edge of time.
a tightrope walker between sanity and insanity.
her laughter, a cruel symphony echoing though corridors of fractured mirrors.
in her eyes galaxies collide a nebula of anguish and constellations of delirium.
she weaves her own world.
a spider spinning silk from fractured thoughts.
she dreams of drowning in ink-black oceans where sirens singing lullabies of madness.
the walls whisper, lost in the howling wind.
she clings to fragments of nursery rhymes, their innocence twisted,
she sings of lambs and daises. now blasphemy eats her tongue
they say she’s just hurting but she knows the truth her mind is a fractured kaleidoscope.
in this asylum of broken mirrors, she pirouettes through phantasmagorias.
a moth drawn to the flame burning brighter.

Heidi Taylor Smith, aged 14
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The bush

Unseen,
Outside of time,
All I see or hear or feel;
The fluttering feathers of birds,
The whisper of a breeze,
The damp and leaf speckled ground.
Eaten by the bush,
Tranquil in my solitude,
The forest moves around me,
But my own eyes betray me,
Their lids flicking open,
The birds, the bush, the breeze
A fleeting phantasmagoria of falsity.

Rhiannon Blackball, aged 13
Dunedin

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Book By Its Cover

Hear my language!
My articulation and pronunciation.
I know what 'Phantasmagoria' means,
and I can say the longest place name.
And I can speak my language.
Interject a conversation with ancient wisdom,
and show you just how sophisticated
'our kind' can be.

But all you see is my skin.
My brown, Māori skin,
with its history of not knowing,
and its well-documented stupidity.
Just ignore the clever ones.

Look at my grades!
See the sheet with its A-plusses.
My exam papers with their ticked words
and raving compliments.
My report card with its
'brilliant student's and 'exceptional work's.

But all you see is my skin.
My brown, Māori skin,
with its scars of thievery and wrongdoing, and
its screams of 'COPS!' and 'RUN!'
Its whispers of colonisation drowned out.

See my culture.
As delicate and as beautiful as a feather.
You people eat up our stories, trying to
save what you broke, stole and desecrated.
Hear the words of my ancestors,
providing precious knowledge.
Guiding me forward.

And with this,
I hope that this time,
you will see more
than just my skin.

But all you see is my skin.
My brown, Māori skin.
Still.

Kaitoro Walker, aged 15
Lower Hutt

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An Open Drawer

In an open drawer, a leatherbound book
Remainders of the past surround me
Memories of a different generation
Of ancient wonders, in golden lands
The weight of the heart against a feather
It spells the truth.
Epic poems reveal the siege of high walls
And then a perilous journey home
Legends of Emperors watch the sparring blades
Of gladiators in towering arenas
Cutlasses clash, tales of tall sails on high seas
And a headless body that swims around the boat
Vanquishing ports for exploration and growth
Defiant souls seek out the plunder of new lands
Flightless birds hunted to extinction
Whispers of a forgotten world.
An age of art and music, the greats of literature
A revolution in more ways than one, the call for freedom
Eats away at oppression and greed
Beyond fantasy and wildest horror
Staggering in trenches, slaughtered by bullets
The war of others falling from the sky
Causing destruction and displacement
Thinking that we can’t make a difference
Shifting ever closer to the tipping point
Stories transcend time to become new sketches
In the crinkled pages of this dusty book
Faded after images, flash in a sudden phantasmagoria.

Bill Kelly, aged 12
Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington

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Broken Shores

A feather on Tangaroa’s back,
Drifts through time to shore,
Trees whisper through their roots,
A phantasmagoria of what it is,
Man eats Tāne’s limbs
’Til sun reaches the ground.

Alfie Lash, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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in a faraway land

Once–Upon–A–Time
found
a feather,
felt
its fragile fate
(forever
fraying at
the edges),
heard
the whispers
of the fallen fears -
(echo)
ate
from plates
of truths
forgotten
(drifting far
far away)

watch:
phantasmagorias
of life,
lost,
found,
a feather,
fading feather,
faded feather fragments flutter
drifting through the
clasp of
Time.

Ritika Joseph, aged 14
Brisbane / Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Phantasmagoria

Pink feather, flamingos
Happily eat their
Algae and seeds
Near the
Trees; howls and whispers start to
Appear in
Shadowy, cold
Mouldy places—
A creepy
Ghost from another time… WAIT.
Or is it
Really a ghost…
I… I…
Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Ella Kang, aged 8
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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When I was watching my tv
I was watching a scary movie
Then I closed my eyes but I can still see it flashing
—that is phantasmagoria.

Feathers dropping out of the sky
Thunder flashing while I eat
My friend called me and whispered to my ear
I stared at my phone

I looked at the time
It was way past my bed time
So I went to sleep
In my dream, I was in a haunted house
I saw ghosts go by in a phantasmagoria

It is time to go to school
I stopped as I was walking because
I saw a colourful feather
I picked it up
A bird whispered to me
So I gave it something to eat from my lunch box.

Leeann, aged 8
Invercargill

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Summer Haze

Summer haze
creeps behind the gaping hills,
projects an absence of light
Whispers dance on the water
like dragonflies, like a phantasmagoria
of time cascading like feathers
when the wind drops
eating away the cracked memories
of existence.

Macy Rochford, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Whisper

Whisper
of thoughts race
my mind-boxes flash
a phantasmagoria of hallucinations
projector quadrilaterals

feather, feather
eats through the chaos
of shifting lights

Stroke, embrace
time doesn’t matter here
my boxes open and close
mirrors echo
my struggling thoughts

Whisper
of organized files
scattering
scrambling till
time do us
a-part

Jessica Hurrell, aged 15
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Acrostic poem about phantasmagoria

Powerful in meaning with every movement,
Horrors of the night brought back by smoke and lanterns,
A creepy film played with technology of old,
New time, new whisper, in the changing scenes,
Tones of scariness within every shadow,
Amplified fear is struck in all of the audience,
Silence seems loud in the theatre of darkness,
Malaise everywhere – thou cannot escape,
A moment of dread, as hope is eaten by negativity,
Guaranteed for there to be no hope, absolutely not.
Or, so we thought……
“Replay that! Replay that!” Unexpected cries rise from the audience.
Imagination, light as a feather, combined with terror, strong as a diamond,
All make true a glorious PHANTASMAGORIA!

Angel Yuan, aged 9
Porirua

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My Poem About Me

I used to eat snails
But now I don’t
I used to be scared of birds
But now I love them
I used to shout in class
But now I whisper
I used to not understand the word phantasmagoria
But now I do
I used to be late for school
But now I am on time
I used to hate feathers
But now I love them

Willow, aged 10
Invercargill

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The Swimming Pool

When I went to the swimming pool
I felt the water tickling me like a feather
it felt like a phantasmagoria of emotions
crawling up my brain

When I went to the swimming pool
I felt the joy on my head
but then it was time to eat
but then I heard a whisper
that I might go again

Aiden Wong, aged 8
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Father

I am nestled in a feather armchair eating rice.
Behind me is a fireplace.
The smell of smoke
And the flames remind me
how war grows.
In today’s paper a country at war.
My son is fighting for our freedom.
I think of him shielding others.
Injured
Graves
Grief
Mud
Enemy
Above me the lights whisper
and I remember the storm
the night my son was born.
There were phantasmagoria in this room
that made me think
how war casts shadows over our lives.
I remember the time I closed the gate
and my son in his uniform hugged me and waved goodbye.
In my dreams he runs into battle.
'Don’t shoot him!'
Please return safely.

Claire Zhao, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The Death of Memory

The last whispers of life trickle out of her mouth like a phantasmagoria
purple-blue flickering feathers of mysterious energy.
Every memory, every thought.
An entanglement of her mangled lives engulfs the cave system
entwining in every living soul
filling every being with an eerie emptiness.
Eating at every life.
Yet the pendulums of time continue swinging.
The universe would go on.
A moment to be forgotten.

Will Hurren, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Turbulance

The sound of a plane
eating a vicious wind.
I’m a passenger travelling
over the Southern Alps.
My hands fluttery as feathers.
In the seat behind me
an old man
clenches his stomach.
I see the fear
in my little sister’s eyes.
This is no phantasmagoria.
All the time I wish to stand on soil.
Now the Southern Alps whispers
'You are free'

Raphe Dacre, aged 12
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The clock ticks and I sit.
Mother sits across from me, the light casting a yellow glow over her.
I look at my plate, at the chipped china, blue feathers dancing around its rim.
'Eat', she whispers.
I let out a small sob. Won’t. Can’t.
Time passes, and with every minute I grow weak.
A fake smile on her face, a phantasmagoria of hope.
Eat.

Her grin grows wider, stretching over the folds of her skin.
Her teeth are white like shined pearls, they glimmer insistently.
I want to cry, to release these emotions but as I look at the plate,
They all go away.
I want to throw the plate at her perfect face, watch the facade melt away.
Watch her cry and watch her scream
Eat.

She’s left the room, given up on me.
'A lost cause!', she shrieks.
'Take her to the doctor!', she screams.
The doctor won’t know what to do with me.
Nobody does. Not even me.
Eventually, they will see.
Eat.

In the kitchen, the light is strangely comforting.
The only hope and comfort I have ever felt.
A small smile works its way on my face, not used to being there.
The food untouched, my belly empty.
Happy as I’ll ever be.
Full.

Ava Turner, aged 13
Titirangi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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Reflections of a mind’s mirage

In the depths of her fragmented mirror
scattered shards
run haphazardly like a messy storm

In the depths of her clockwork mind
phantasmagoria reigns
and time devours its own chains

Secrets sealed
tangled within her thoughts
dim glitter floats in the ether
filling her mind’s blank spaces

Like whimsy
whisper-stardust
patches up the memories
she makes

Her silence speaks for itself
her mind is

where feathers cover up the imperfections

where time is rewound
where

years can become days
and days,
can become hours
hours become minutes
and minutes,
become seconds

A sick fantasy, hollowed within her mind
to eat the truth
to detach her from the truth
to make her own truth

A world carved piece by piece
distorted
where lines blur between reality and dream

where time is accelerated
where seconds can become minutes
and minutes,
can become hours
hours become days

and days,

become years.

Sabrina Li, aged 14
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Gradients

I can never tell when one colour ends and another starts
A phantasmagoria of rainbow
Spinning, spinning, spinning
Until I'm so dizzy and doubting

When polite ends and disrespectful starts
I am cartwheeling through double standards,
Forwards, forwards, forwards.
Time stretches on for all eternity and you zoom out and there's only really your boring everyday reality
For once,
For once,
Someone would understand I didn’t mean to

When friendly fire ends and hurt starts
Whispers are
Summoning demons but I'm in the centre
There’s no friendly fire
All fire burns, scalds, destroys
Flickering candles grow
Into roaring bonfires
When given the chance
They engulf me, enveloping me and sealing me in rising carbon dioxide, suffocating me in stereotypes
Chanting that my fate has already been written
Bottle sealed

When a happy friendship ends and a toxic one starts
Is she really wanting the best for me?
I eat your sorrows
Stuff them down, six feet under
Shoving aside my life for yours

Independence / Loneliness
Kindness / People-pleasing
But fun is chaos
Feathers on scales
Disconnected, syncopated when I keep upsetting the system
When ‘normal’ ends and ‘different’ starts But it all doesn’t matter when you’re crying. The world is blurred anyway.

Cicy Chen, aged 14
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Snap Snap

Feather drops to the ground
Scuttling quietly goes mouse
Whisper, whisper to its young
Snap, snap goes the jaws of owl

A silent night with wings aflight
Soaring, swooping, a sense of fear
A shrill cry and lullaby to your prey
This night it’s time to eat

Feather drops to the ground
Scuttling quietly goes mouse
Whisper, whisper to its young
Snap, snap go the jaws of owl

A tranquil night with eyes alight
Flapping, flying, a sense of dread
A piercing cry and song to your prey
This night it’s time to eat

A calm night with a beak to bite
Gliding, diving, a sign of death
A deafening cry and melody to your prey
This night it’s time to eat

Feather drops to the ground
Scuttling quietly goes mouse
Whisper, whisper to its young
Snap, snap go the jaws of owl

Mouse sees a silhouette
A phantasmagoria
Wings through the trees

Too late

Snap snap go the owl’s jaws

Isabelle Holmes, aged 9
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The Dream

She walks down the corridor
A mirror
A reflection of herself
What will they think of me
A wave
Horrible thoughts
Anxiety creates a phantasmagoria of fear

She arrives to a class
Awkward and scared
She speaks the wrong words
Laughter
Giggles
She fights back tears
Time slows down for embarrassment

Bells ring
No friends
She sits alone
Eats alone
Tears burn
Her eyes are sore
Loneliness consumes your happiness.

Months go by
Whispers get louder
Alone and scared
Crying suffocates
The blood stops pumping
Her soul fades away
Like a feather

Tallulah Kearney, aged 13
Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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Across The Pond

A feather
Floating
Gently
Across the pond

Tattered with age
And
Speaking of forgotten times
When memories were made
Across the pond

From the glossy plumage
Of a swan
Like a slice of moonlight
Wandering
Across the pond

A glint of
Shimmering scales
A rainbow fish
Leaping
Across the pond

A gentle ripple
As the fish dives
Underwater
Once more
Across the pond

An eerie whisper of wind
An imagination
Creating phantasmagorias
That dance
On the watery surface
Across the pond

A sliver of moonlight
Growing
Spreading
Eating up the space
As the clouds slip away
Across the pond

The moon
Shimmering
Reflected in
The eternal depths

Of the still water
All of this happened
Across the pond.

Rose Harris, aged 11
Kirikiriroa Hamilton

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中国新年 / Chinese New Year

Signs for dumplings, rice and noodles hang from nearby stalls.
All around me, people eat.
Some hold lanterns and flowers.
Mammoth sized cherry trees line the street.
Red pieces of paper hang from their branches, like phantasmagorias.
The cool air swirls around me, making whooshing sounds, whispering in my ears.
Children run, waving red lanterns dangling from sticks.
Girls in beautiful dresses swirl, posing for pictures taken by overly energetic parents.
A beautiful, grey-white dove feather softly lands on my head.
A warm, orange glows from red coloured lanterns.
Makes everything happy and snug.
I wish that time would stop.
That I could stay here forever.
Giant crowds of people strain their heads
to catch glimpses of the golden red dragon
dancing with men and women.
I begin to dance, slowly at first,
my feet stepping to the beats of the gongs.
Everything is joyful, everything…

Emma Jia Xin Zhang, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Sky Stories

Stars shaped to Hercules.
Stars shaped to memories.
Pieces of platinum tossed to night.
Sky’s unshed tears.
Collected and
too hard to let fall.
Reflecting pool of stories.
Whispering, gently as feathers
If only you listen.
Always late to see.
Time eating them to phantasmagoria
Sentinel over dreams.

Rebecca Fraser, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Continue reading the winning poems along with the judge's comments here and the poems from the Adult's category here.