Young Poets

Published here are some of the excellent poems we receive from our gifted young writers.

You can submit poems either by post (please enclose a stamped address envelope for reply), via our on-line portal, or by email to acumeneditor@gmail.com. Please mark the contents ‘Young Poet Submission’, put this in the subject line if you are submitting by email, and put your name, age and address on each page of the submission.

Please submit no more than four poems. You should be aged between 16 and 25 years, the work should be unpublished. 

More information about submitting your poetry

Audrey Hunter

Audrey Hunter

This Is What I’m Thinking

Rain on the window & the ground

Everything is impermeable

So we leave behind streetside streams

& we leave in them

I want to go home

But I rue the journey

Hate the water that drowns the roads

Hate the water that ends up where

I’m wanting to go

I know what it means to be taken for granted

Sprinkle down & write your message in

On the windshield

Watching out for what’s next

You know what it means to have no idea

There is nothing left between the walls

That hold me up in place here

So I am facing skywards

I am falling with my eyes

And then the rest of me

Headed nowhere,

Headed north,

Headed to the gulf,

Traveling smooth but splashed up and around

By reckless, wantless tires

And nothing is lost to the concrete

But something is lost to the air

Little Movements

We can laugh it off all we want but

It won’t change a thing.

It hangs around us,

The air is thick and clouded like stream water

I never have any idea what to say.

Swallow smoke and spit out blindness

Nothing left after the sun rises

& eats up homes,

Cleans out the valley,

And nothing is left except the sighs,

Hitting the walls of the hills

This (like everything) Is About Self Esteem

After my friends across the hall have

Nodded off

I’ll be the loud one

I’ll call the front desk

I am the ghost, the prankster

All my feelings come in seasons

Brought on my rafts of heavy rain

There’s nothing I love all the time

I am a hummingbird,

A big bee,

I weigh nothing, I cost nothing

If you hit too hard

If you look too long

I fall off the face of the earth

I leave nothing

I play songs that become you down halls that

Drip and ooze

Your feet fall on velvet drums

And make velvet songs

I open doors quiet

But I close them loud

There’s a call, a creak for help either way

I cost nothing, I leave nothing

Saul Grenfell

Saul Grenfell

Rain and cheer

Innocence darted through streets alone,
hair dancing in the rush of it
amid dense smells and bids and cumin and saffron
little lungs a-panting.

Now, with top button stiffly done,
greying hair flattened and combed.
Through split roads, with rain and cheer,
he puts out a foot, heel-toe, heel-toe;
heel-toe, heel-toe.

His breath quickens as he wonders.
Is this trembling hand,
with pageantry and sword,
the same as the hand those years ago,
pinching dates and syrup, from angry sellers,
little lungs a-panting?

two hundred and forty-nine

we’ve been waiting for you
haven’t we
hanging snug up in there for months
we chose from dozens of flats
all for you
kitchen stocked
self-help books read
pampers bought
plastic gloves

your mum
rush
ing
into
obs + gynae
flashes of blue
and beeps
and flashes
and shouts
and flashes
and the rubbing of plastic gloves
and flashes
and
we had a room
stained blue curtain
blood-spotted floor
all for
you

your uncle
bless him
made you a cot
bit of a diy fanatic
quite sweet really
excess plywood trimmed
with licks of paint
for a mobile so your little eyes
could stare and gaze
only green paint was left
i’m afraid
so the lambs look a little poorly
but i’m sure you won’t mind;
he tried

they tried.
drowned in panic
but i promise
through hands squeezing
and cramps wheezing
they tried

now packing your books up
off to somewhere else
anywhere
to gather dust
and god knows what we’ll do
with the bloody puree

the internet
god i envy your naivety
the internet
i can’t do this
the internet
why do i even
the internet says that
one in
two hundred and fifty
infants don’t
the internet
never mind

oh darling
why did you have to be the one

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