We'll be back!

We do competitions from time to time as we work on launching and testing our app because we like to have some fun along the way and engage with you guys. We're not currently doing a competition right now, but stay updated because we might be again soon!

Our last competition was a month long contest in April for National Poetry Month. Keep up to date with us by signing up for our updates , but for now check out some of our previous winners below. 

Previous Winning Poems

"Houston, We Have a Problem" – Tiffany Usher

Houston, we have a problem
I've fallen into a galaxy undiscovered
I've become lost amongst his stars
The constellations in his soul are endless
And I could never travel too far

Houston, we have a problem
His triumphs and his tragedies shoot
Like stars across the atmosphere
He sees them as a shame,
But their pull only draws me near

Houston, we have a problem
Because what he sees as a black hole
I see as an immense display of cosmos
Striking, spinning, vast arrays
Of celestial fireworks lighting my vision


Houston, we have a problem
Where he sees falling stars
in his heart I see streaking tails of light

Where he sees only fading afterglow
I see ultraviolet comets raining down

Houston, we have a problem
He sees himself on a broken frequency
His cosmic rays have pierced my heart
The electromagnetic force of his soul
Makes me surrender to orbit

Houston, we have a problem
The problem is this: he sees only a void
He can't see the gravitational pull he has on me
Nor that I am a hopelessly lost astronaut
Wanting only to explore his depths.

"Disintegration" – Sara Al Saidi

A delicate flower in the garden of one
with no intentions of watering her,
She learnt to flourish in the rainfall and sunshine of nature.
But night eventually came -
As though everything around her was composed of a razor,
Her fragile veins tore at the slightest touch,
Disfigured by gentlest embrace,
She grew stronger with each rip.
Absorbing the rain’s lust -
Letting it ravish her fractured body -
She began to turn to dust.
Whispering promises to feed the rain’s desires,
She promised to help it breed -
Each whip of rainwater creating new gashes in her already disintegrating petals,
She began to bleed.
As the sky spat at her, drowning her in nature’s liquor,
Struggling to swallow it, she learnt to swim.

Slowly, silently, the moon slithered down the night sky into a flicker,
Soaked in rain’s greed -
Alone again.

"Sis" – Angela Caravan

My sister does not write poetry.
She collects memories in grasps
And secures them in place forever.
She cultivates the cultivated
And sews unbreaking lines
Of bondage.

My sister does not read poetry.
She crafts cursive on clean notes
That seep with joy and ardency,
A stack of sweet missives,
While I pile the words of strangers
And collect flat volumes in
A perfect patchwork of precarity.

My sister does not write poetry.
She produces amity and care;
She creates beyond creation,
A resultant artist for the undamned.
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