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2018 ICWD

First Place: If you could only let yourself burst, written by Valerie Pace from Catania, Italy.

If you could only let yourself burst

Written by Valerie Pace from Catania, Italy

If you could only let yourself burst

you would see coming out of you, words never said or shouted too loudly

You would see your fear, the one that fills you and empties you

That makes you fall asleep and wakes you up with memories of what you were

If you could only let yourself burst

you would see it disappear

and you would look at your body again, you would love it again

you would tattoo it inside yourself without shame

You would tell about your closed eyes and your countless dances

of a light white dress on your light body

You would tell about a choreography that designed the past and the future anew

a dance, painted on sandy paths devastated by bombs and words

You would tell about corners turned into hiding places

About a companion body, beautiful but violent,

the personification of everything you should leave

You would tell about his big hands that hug you tightly and don’t let you breathe,

about fights to free yourself and the jumps to get yourself caught again

If you could only let yourself burst

You would let your closed eyes take you elsewhere

without reflection of a lost past

you would find yourself in the dark that no longer frightens

you would let the world blow on you

to it, you would entrust your steps: real, sweet and slow.

And behind one of your hiding places

you would find your body companion, beautiful and loving

the personification of everything you will never have to leave.

And you could hear it, finally

in the hands that won’t let you fall,

in the eyes that open

in the breath that returns

and in the life that flows inside you

Second Place: Climb the tree and hit the ball and hope we do not fall, written by Jennifer Hynes from Ennis, Ireland.

Climb the tree and hit the ball and hope we do not fall

written by Jennier Hynes from Ennis, Ireland

Society is there in many ways.

We meet our challenges from day to day.

As we head on our way oh dear another footpath in our way.

No ramp nearby that we can see, oh dear what is going to happen to me with my chair, as I head on my way with a place to be at three.

This is defiantly a curse that I meet on my way.

A challenge we meet from day to day. Oh dear me what can I say only deal with the curse along the way.

As I try to go on my merry way, a smile on my face, but deep inside I am hurt and annoyed and I don’t know what to say as I feel I have to fight to be heard.

I am tired of fighting from day to day but I know breaking down is not the way to carry on.

I just have to carry on and put a smile on my face and say that tomorrow will be better in some way. And know that other are struggling with me along the road just like me.

You will make someone’s day by gentle words or by showing a bit of concern for your friends as you know they meeting the dame challenges as you.

There are things we cannot do but keep a happy smile on your face and go to the corner and at home you can let it go.

Life is busy and you carry on and make the best of every day.

And give a helping hand by the things you do and say and know that everyone is climbing the stairs like you from day to day and it doesn’t matter what we say or do as long as we can do the things we can do.

Any carry on in the world we live the life the pathway that is chosen for us to follow in the things we say and do. Life is up to me and you to make the best of every day by the things we say and do.

Third Place: Ever, written by George Cook from Phoenix, AZ.

Ever

written by George Cook from Phoenix, Arizona

Ever try to catch a dream

to put an image in your mind

or do you find you’ve no control

over things and over time

Ever try to make a wish

Then see that it come true

or never hoping , never caring

whether or not they do

Ever look for peace of mind

In the life you live

There’s no need to look much further

for that’s my wish to give

Don’t worry about tomorrow

For yes-the sun will rise

Don’t worry about the life you live

for it’s only a disguise

Don’t worry about those wishes

or the images on the mind,

for you will never know

whose dreams you’ll help to find

Search for peace, you’ll find it

Everywhere you look

Believe me and be strong people

2017 ICWD

First Place: The Fractured and the Whole, written by Brandon Moore from Phoenix, AZ.

The Fractured and the Whole

Written by Brandon Moore from Phoenix, AZ

With borrowed eyes, blindly I begin to see, through

the fog of nautical twilight, the shadows of others

twisting and blending into the growing night.

They, like me, are separate, broken, disconnected,

in the ever dim and dark world of the lost.

In the obsidian night, I hold the fractured pieces

of myself close, like the gravity of a star,

lonely spheres orbiting and longing to be one.

The unwanted memories shatter me each day,

and keep me chained in the onyx black night.

I remember solace and I want to connect with people

I want to heal, find compassion, and acceptance in

the arms of others. In the distance I see, something new,

a spill of light unknown to me. Slowly I move, as I am

pulled, to a window with an amber glow, a room

illuminated, with figures moving, dancing inside.

On the outside looking in I see people, individuals

in communion, sharing themselves, sharing their light,

undiminished, remaining whole, unlike me, alone,

a broken puzzle orbiting in the black abyss of night.

I see what I wish, to be put together, to be whole,

to have a community, and to not be alone.

A door I never saw opens, pours forth amber light into

the night, as it beckons me in. Together with the people

inside, they shine their light, and I begin to heal.

I blossom, I bloom, I connect and I commune.

The colorful puzzle pieces of me fill in and

I become me, I become one, I become whole.

Second Place: Being Excluded, written by George Cook from Phoenix, AZ.

Being Excluded

written by George Cook from Phoenix, AZ

I noticed yesterday that someone saw me Differently than I really want to be seen It was much like me believing I am a flower But their vision of me was way off the beam So they excluded me Being separated from others in this way Is the worst kind of pain that I have ever felt Even worse than the physical harm done When I was beat as a youngster with a belt Because they excluded me It was not the difference in the colors of our skins Or that my hair was short and theirs was long It was that how they spoke about me to the others For as the person I am they had me all wrong And they excluded me They just took a single look at me to determine What I thought, and the kind of person I am Without allowing me to even say a single word As if that was the way they designed life’s plans So they excluded me It would have been easy and so much better If they asked me the questions in their mind Instead of assuming all that they did about me And I thought it would have really been so kind If they included me

Third Place: Infirmary, written by Rebecca Loggia from Phoenix, AZ.

International Competition for Writers with Disabilities Award Reception

Janine Bobin reading for Gilles El Haddad

Mary Hill Connor reading for Lisa Acheson

2016 ICWD

Winners

First Place: Voices of my Own, writer by Nancy Cormanberk from Phoenix, AZ.

Voices of my Own

written by Nancy Cormanberk from Phoenix, AZ

I have a visual challenge.
“Sever”, my ophthalmologist said.
What led me her I cannot say,
Growing up I was never aware of ‘severe’.

“You must stay in 2nd grade”, the elementary school said.
“You refused to do 2nd grade math and falash cards”, they said.
“Let’s make a deal”, my fahter and mother said to the principal.
“Let’s make a deal”, they all stated.
My voice was born that day.
“You have a choice”, my family then said to me.
“You can sta in 2nd grade or you can go to 3rd and stay after every day to work on 2nd grade stuff until you get it”.
I had a choice.

The day I signed up for high school
The counselor said yo me, “You will never go to college.
You”ll never go to Community college. You will never pass algebra”.
“You have a choice”, my mother and father said to me.
“Let’s make a deal,” my family said.
“You can try it and you an always move down if you need to”.
My voice was born that day.

“You cannot color in the lines you know”, my inner critic said to me.
“You can’t go there,” when Art Awakenings called to me.
My voice was born that day.
“You can’t go there”, my other inner self said to me.
My family was now watching from above.
So there was no one to say, “Let’s make a deal”.
“Severe”, my ophthalmologist said.
My voice grew stronger that day.
I am here living that call.

Second Place: Although I Cannot Walk Beside You, written by Ying Yang from Chengdu, China.

Although I Cannot Walk Beside You

written by Ying Yang from Chengdu, China

In Spring I look up at the lush jungle
Shaking the wheelchair slowly walk in flowing river
Have a spring breeze brushed my sleeping face
Although I can’t walk beside with you
My wings of my heart are side by side with you
We are flying in the beautiful carpet of flowers in spring

In summer I bath in the light of the lingering
Shake the wheelchair longing for sunrise in the morning
You are rapid running at the end of the coastline
Although I can’t walk beside with you
My heart goes on with your pulse synchronization
Blood surges in every renewal of beautiful morning

In autumn fruits are countless rich in the valley
I shake the wheelchair lingering on this golden full grain juggle
Under the blue sky you spread the wings of wind
Although I can’t walk beside you
flahsy moment my heart is also surging wave
To the baptism of one life with sea swallow

In winter I look up at the snow-capped mountains
Shake the wheelchair roaming in white bright pieces
You stood in the cold wind of brutal lake, such as green conifers
Although I can’t walk beside with you
In the tottering I can still stand on your side
To be your forever memories in the lonely desert and smoking earth

Although I can’t walk beside with you
The source of life strongly surges in my weak body
The sea of my heart sets on like a sail
My feet are mountains stretches of the prennial forward steps
Forward the place where your sun is erupting out
I am marching on
I am walking beside you

Third Place: Broken Crayon with No Color, written by Joy Valerius from Tucson, AZ.

Broken Crayon With No Color

written by Joy Valerius from Tucson, Arizona

I am a broken crayon
with no color,

kicked out of the box
for being different.

I purposely color out
side the lines,

preferring my own
designs.

I color the sky clear,
not a repititious blue,

nor an ocean’s depth,
a deep green, that

we have all seen.

The sun is never orange
in my world.

but translucnet so
its rays don’t ever burn.