The 2024 Open Your Mind Poetry Competition asked poets to respond to the theme ‘Keys to Recovery’. More than 55 poems were submitted. The winners were decided by renown Perth poet Leonard James, who has been judging the competition every year since 2021 and has judged for the WA Poets Creatrix Prize, along with Sonya Frossine.
Here are the winning poems.
Lorikeet / MIFWA Category
First Place
‘The CHIME Model’ by Rod
I have recovered well from mental illness
From connections to empowerment
Using the chime model along the way
Firstly, I started to connect
With staff and people who attend lorikeet
Then I got MIFWA support
This all gave me hope
I believed I could recover
The sessions at Lorikeet were positive
I started to gain an identity
I wasn’t just that person with a mental illness
My life started to have meaning
There were ups and downs, but it was part of a journey
I set goals and put a structure in place
I finally got empowerment
I had control in everything I did
I lived by my values ie. resilience and patience
And took responsibility in everything I did
Second Place
‘I Dream These Things’ by Danny
I dream these things like sacred bread
that rises brightly in my head,
I dream these things like graceful birds,
whose thoughts meander into words.
I dream these things like rolling stones,
whose silence seems to still my bones,
like flashing rain and blowing breeze,
like purple songs on orange trees.
I dream these things like ancient tides,
that kiss the angel when she rides,
like turtle words, and tulip spring,
and bells that chime for everything.
I dream these things that still the night,
and hold the wedding when its white.
They break the shadow on the hill,
and whisper when the night is still.
The merchant dives, the demon sings,
Oh darling, I do dream these things.
Highly Commended
‘Song of Hope’ by Anita
Sometimes it just feels too far away
But somehow it is in our reach today
Go – go outside
Feel – feel the sun
Listen – to the trees
Look – see the water on the leaves
Smile – smile inside
Find – find a way
Look – deep within
Don’t – don’t forget to breathe
Sometimes it just feels too far away
You are stronger than you feel
Somehow it is in our reach today
You are braver than you feel
WA Wide Category
First Place
‘Keys to Recovery’ by Jake
I’ve lost them, again. Excuse me, while I research
beneath blankets, click through endless hallways of radiant screens,
check the fridge again. Searching the same spots
I’ve tried before, coming up empty, sometimes I find myself licked
dumb by a lambent chemical’s numbing tongues, follow
each blinding glow, feel micro, lost in a keyhole.
You can tell I lose track of my purpose. Of course, you have been there, routinely off course, losing your keys.
It feels good to admit, to let someone know we need help.
Sometimes I try to fool myself, pretend the engine will start with a bit
that doesn’t fit.
That’s what you do: torque your head, reposition shoulders, grind teeth. Perhaps by guiding someone else to recover their blade
by being mindful of the design of their bow before we start twisting mercilessly, we might rediscover how and where I left mine,
remember how to unlock recovery.
Once I find them, I’ll be going places.
I’ve done it before: rediscovered humanity, fuel, journeys,
even the chambers and metals of locks, are finite.
Living’s a habit. No wonder I find myself searching
I find myself searching, search for my keys every day.
It’s unrealistic to think I will stop won’t need to find them again.
Second Place
‘Summer Visitant’ by Madeleine
The bird demands attention on periphery
of vision, rousing me from apathy, breaking
boundaries of depression with cavortings and
hustlings. I think it has been an unheeded visitor
for some time refusing to be ignored as I sit
apathetic on the verandah. But this time I am aroused,
no longer indifferent. I fetch crusts, flick tiny pellets
onto sun-striped boards. The bird, fearless, regards me
steadily, without judgement, pecks regularly like an
automated toy at each crumb, mechanically swallowing,
tail feathers swaying elegantly as a swishing ball gown.
The bird’s liquid eyes shine as if it knows I missed breakfast.
Then, in whirl of black feathers it wings across the garden,
lands in the stone birdbath with lively splashings for my
entertainment. This bird is an acrobat, a performer. I am
aware of a weird sound, unrecognisable, listen to a strange
creaking, cracking wheeze and realise I am laughing.
Third Place
‘Clarity After Psychedelics’ by Michelle
Tonight, I lit an incense and turned off my lights
The clearest memory appeared to me
Clearer than the glasses I’ve shattered to tear my flesh apart
See, all my life I’ve had this fear of little red lights at night
The kind that indicate stand by mode
But then I saw little me, maybe five, maybe six
Following Brandy, the dog, out the back door
Playing with him, blissfully unaware, until you spoke my name
And I hated my name, the way it tasted in your mouth
And I, startled, looked around
All I could see was the glowing red end of your cigarette
And so these 30 odd years, I’ve been sleepless
Feeling naked before these terrifying lights, my body in standby mode
But now I contextualise for the first time
And so I leave the lights out, the incense stick still burning
I fall gently to sleep, a deep, dreamless, sleep
Safe in the knowledge that dead men can’t smoke cigarettes
Or watch little girls any more
Highly Commended
‘Fixing the Light’ by Virginia
Memory drops like the tubular petals of jasmine
flowering down across well worn bricks, through gates
that remain defiantly shut although they’re open.
The wire to the light swings through a pepper tree
alive with green parrots that take flight at his step;
but power stays off despite confused flicking of switches.
A light bulb moment flares, tentatively nurtured,
carried in his tread with purpose to the shed.
It’s ok, he calls, it’s returned.
Neither he nor the watcher
understand neurones,
magnetism, diodes, circuits,
cerebrum and frontal lobes.
But impulses cannot be denied
and while he can he will.
Highly Commended
‘Commanducatio’ by Misty
There are two different types of machines in this context, of their poorly life.
The first; a stage four, failing and faulty, pack of expired meat that is also known as the biological machine.
The second; an electrical piece of equipment that delivers nutrients to a cancer ridden soul.
At night, in the deep darkness, there is only small 13 second increments of silence,
followed by a buzzing of 80ml of sustenance being delivered to the patient’s small intestine.
This noise reminds the patient of the sound of electrical chewing,
As if they were eating.
They sigh in the nighttime.
Never going into remission, they said.
Hell.
Just you wait and see.
MIFWA thanks all entrants and congratulates the winners. All poems submitted will be published in MIFWA’s annual Open Your Mind Poetry book.
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