Here is a lovely submission for In Your Own Words, by one of the winners of our Bright Stars contest.

Twilight

The slight darkness appears
You can barely see anything
The only thing in sight is shapes
Within the shapes is a girl.
You only tell by her voice
Happiness comes across
Both of you talk, you're glad
For once someone likes you
Not for your looks and money
But indeed you.
At this point you're grateful to the twilight
Even if strangers can barely see
He already knew...
Thanks to the twilight he has true love.
Thanks to the twilight he found the darkness.
Thanks to the twilight he found himself.
Thanks to the twilight he found his future.

by Kisma

A Heart of Stone

Once I had a heart of stone
For it had surely lost its home
It could not love or wanted to
But in my life, then came you.

The stones began to fall away
As happiness began to fill my day
A feeling so sweet and special too
Could this be love, I pray it's true.

My heart now sings a song of love
For I know that it was sent from above
My heart is warm, there is no cold
Hard no more, but with wings of gold.

It soars above the sky so high
Sometimes I think of why and say
My heart now sings a loving song
For the part of me I thought was gone.

The gift that you have given me
Is so important, can you see
No more sadness or being alone
For now my heart returns to home.

by Sasha, Brownsville Branch

We will now be publishing submissions to In Your Own Words on this blog.  Please continue to e-mail your work to tzone@brooklynpubliclibrary.org, or give it to your local teen librarian.

Here are some submissions from Jeanni, aged 17. 

New York Faerie Tale
by Jeanni, age 17

Brooklyn.
Home of the Cyclones,
The Cyclone,
Coney Island,
Prospect Park,
Grand Central Library,
Brooklyn Museum of Art,
and Me.
Brooklyn Mermaid,
New York Faerie.
I found my faerie tale.
My love story.
And he’s a beautiful
Dorky
Sweet
Compassionate
Tinker Faerie.
From Brooklyn.

The Day Was Young and The Night Not Yet Begun
by Jeanni, age 17

Celeste strolled down a path with her sister Misty.  Misty’s long black hair hung free, Celeste’s long blonde hair was in a high ponytail.  Their skin shone in the afternoon sunlight.  A short black girl on a bench waved and both sisters waved back.  The girl’s wings fluttered lightly and she rose into the sky, smiling so wide her pointed teeth showed.  Celeste and Misty kept walking.  They passed a tree where a spirit lived; he looked out at them as he always did, a vacant expression in his leaf-like eyes.  Celeste shuddered a bit as she always did when they passed tree spirits.  The vacancy in their eyes scared her.  Misty squeezed her sister’s hand, and they moved on. A small girl with red hair and a red tail ran past them chasing a smaller boy with the same shade of hair and tail.  Misty giggled.  A pair of beansidhes brushed each others’ hair on the grass.  Misty hopped up onto the park wall and unfurled her long blue wings.  She jumped into the air and hovered over Celeste’s head.  Celeste hopped up and let her own long purple wings flutter in the breeze.
        Knees bent, Celeste leapt into the air and flew straight up for fifty feet.  A six-story apartment building was in front of her, and she flew over to a gargoyle perch.  The gargoyle had long ago flown away, leaving the perch open for Celeste.  She landed lightly, her toes barely touching stone, and twirled a pirouette.  Misty met her and landed on the perch beside Celeste’s.  They smiled at each other, then raced down their perches and dove into the air.  Afternoon sun warmed their skin and wings as they sank near the ground, then rose on an updraft.  Misty shrieked with laughter, a grin on her face.  Celeste dove close enough to touch the horn of a unicorn, then flew away as it snorted at her.
        The sisters flew to the river, crossing it low, the tips of their wings dragging in the water.  Celeste’s eyes shut; she was deliriously happy.  She was flying, she was over the water, she was with her sister, and they were free.  When they reached the Manhattan shore they rose and touched down on top of a building.  It was a tall steel skyscraper, at least 52 stories.  Celeste let out a whoop and jumped high, twirling, then came back to the roof.
        Their city, their beautiful New York, was alive with the mortal, the immortal, and the mystical.  Misty and Celeste spun and dove, circled and rose through the air, laughing and calling to each other and other faeries flying through the city skyline. The day was young, and the night not yet begun.

Here are the poetry winners from our writing contest. Enjoy!

The Day My Apple Talked
by Hinda Klass, age 12
First Prize, Poetry

"Hey, whatcha doing?" I heard a voice blurt,
"Hey, dontcha bite me, dontcha know it hurts?"
I rubbed my eyes and blinked twice.  Could it really be?
Did my shiny red apple talk to me?
"Me too!" said my banana, in a voice small and soft,
"How would you like to have your skin peeled off?"
"And me," said the orange as a sigh he releases,
"Before you eat me, you rip me to pieces,"
"And us," said the grapes in an accusing voice.
"We don't wanna be eaten but do we have a choice?"
"Isn't there something better for you to eat?"
"You're right," I said, "We lions do prefer meat."

Time in a Square
by Suzy Berkowitz, age 17
Second Prize, Poetry

Microphone taped to my face, I inhale.  Feeling the ground beneath me shake, I inhale.  This is my life, the life I chose to lead, and now I stand on this stage seven nights a week.  My home, my love, this is where I'll stay.  From now until forever, I live the broad way.  Bright lights, no frights, I feel totally safe.  The beat on the street keeps my rhythm in place.I spit out notes like I was born to sing, and when the words collapse, I'll still be doing my thing.  My home, my love, this is where I'll stay.  From now until forever, I live the broad way.  I don't really need a tony; don't want to be a phony.  I don't need a limousine, Q to 42nd street.  So all you haters beware, I ain't going nowhere, and I'll keep climbing them stairs until I get to Times Square.

The Monster in My Closet
by Nora Etienne, age 13
Third Prize, Poetry

My name is Nora
and I have something to say,
I haven't cleaned my closet
For many a day.

The clothes are sticking out
The door must stay open,
The hinges are loose
Oh look now the door is broken.

I heard a loud sound
On one spooky night,
Since that day
My closet gave me a fright.

Since that moment
I was scared to clean it,
I know there's a monster,
Though I have not seen it.

My mini skirts were gone
My sneakers disappeared,
It was a nightmare
All that I have feared.

That's when it happened
I saw a monster rise,
I couldn't believe it,
I couldn't believe my eyes.

Wait a minute
It's just a pajama,
Only that piece of clothing
for all my drama.

There is a question
Where is my stuff?
I may be scared
But I will keep it tough.

So now please remember
Clean your closet all right,
Listen to me
Or live your whole life a fright.

In April Teenzone held a writing contest in honor of National Poetry Month.  We were thrilled to receive a ton of entries in both the Poetry and Prose categories, and sad to only be able to choose three winners in each! Here are the winners:

Poetry Winners:

First Prize: The Day My Apple Talked by Hinda Klass

Second Prize: Time in a Square by Suzy Berkowitz

Third Prize: The Monster in My Closet by Nora Etienne

Prose Winners:

First Prize: Mommy, Can You Hear Me? by Rafelina Pena

Second Prize: Is it More Effective for a Ruler to be Feared or Loved? by Lucy Tan

Third Prize: Bugs and Spiders by Nicole Gonzalez

 Over the next week we will publish these works, as well as the numerous submissions which earned Honorable Mentions.  Congratulations to the winners, and thanks to everyone who participated!  Keep writing, and feel free to send your work to tzone@brooklynpubliclibrary.org, if you'd like to see them published here.