Poetry Competition 2024

Adult Winner

“Hands of Home”

by Manar Ben Tahayeky

Her hands move slow with tender grace,
Across the kitchen’s sacred space;
The scent of saffron fills the air,
A taste of home, a whispered prayer.

I see her there though far away,
Preparing couscous, day by day;
She stirs the pot with stories old,
With secrets in the steam she holds.

She kneads the dough, the warm embrace,
Of time and care no miles replace;
I close my eyes, and there she stands,
A thousand miles, but still her hands.

They’ve held the sun, the soil, the rain,
They’ve eased my worries, soothed my pain;
They seasoned life with salt and spice,
With every touch, they’ve paid the price.

I miss the way she’d stroke my hair,
The gentle touch that said she’s there;
Her hands, a map of where I’ve been,
Of who I am, of what she’s seen.

She taught me life within her palm,
In every meal, in every psalm;
With calloused love and fingers slight,
She wrapped me safe through every night.

I hear her voice in every bite,
In every dish she brings to light;
Her hands, though distant, find their way,
To comfort me on heavy days.

The clock ticks on, the distance grows,
But in my heart, her presence glows;
For even when the oceans part,
Her hands still hold me, heart to heart.

Oh, how I long to sit once more,
Beside her by that kitchen door;
To watch her work, to feel her near,
To taste the love that conquers fear.

Her hands of home, forever wise,
Are always there before my eyes;
Though lands may shift and years may roam,
Her hands still guide me back to home.

Judge’s Comments: 

The speaker in this poem recalls a loved female relative and their recollections are condensed making her hands and what they do- stroking, seasoning, holding, praying- an effective focal point. Anyone who has spent time with a much-loved elder will recall moments such as these and this creates a connection between the speaker and the reader. Although there is a distance between the speaker and their loved one, the poem serves as evidence that memories can bridge this gap and is testament to the lasting impression created by our caregivers.

Poetry Competition 2024

 Adult Runner-Up

“If Shakespeare was Gibraltarian today”

by Michael Nicholls

Shall I compare thee to wisdom in fools?

Lost as a tempest on midsummer’s night,

Have we with Brussels? Will thou play by rules?

A treaty, a treaty, no dual or fist fight.

Much ado about Schengen a tale told,

The course of frontiers never did run smooth.

Beware boots on the ground lo and behold,

And wherefore art that mournful passport booth?

Et tu Britain thou cauldron of trouble,

Players on the stage of Brexit secession,

Thou hath caus’d us to boil and bubble.

To sign or not to sign that’s the question.

Friends Gibraltarians lend me your ears,

A sonnet with words from those of Shakespeare’s.

Judge’s Comment: 

A clever poem that borrows well-known phrases from Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets to depict a snapshot of one aspect of Gibraltar’s political landscape at this moment in time. The use of Shakespeare’s sonnet form and iambic pentameter is in keeping with the theme and these choices allow the poem to gather momentum. I wonder whether, in true Shakespearean fashion, the break in iambic pentameter in lines mentioning “fight”, “Brexit” and how this has “caus’d us to boil and bubble” is intentional and meant to make the reader sit up and pay attention? The rhyming couplet urging us to listen to the speaker would make it seem so!

Poetry Competition 2024

    Best Poem in the Spanish Language

“Soleda”

by Teresa Mascarenhas

lecho de aga marina

golpe de sale n la mirada

un cuenco vacio al fondo

un arbol sin aire

la tarde yerma

inaudible

con su derrumbe de pajaros

cielo extrano que

estremece

muda piel

hace del hombre

animal de costumbre

escama de tiempo

silencio

a oscuras

la unica luz

se vuelve olvido

Judge’s Comment: 

There was something quite Lorquiano about this brief poem, full of depth and relating the human condition to the passing of time and the full awe at nature. There is a strength and confidence in the construction of the poem itself, with all its room to breathe as it manages to capture so much with an economy of words.

Poetry Competition 2024

 Spanish Language Category Runner-Up

“Levante”

by Alfred Manuel Gerada 

Cien caballos blancos vienen galopando sobre el mar,
¡Nada los puede parar!
A su Roca amada quieren abrazar,
Y cubrirla con un velo de seda al saltar.

En la ciudad de la Roca amada, aúlla entre callejones,
Cargado de misterios y antiguas canciones.

El levante se desliza entre azulejos y balcones,

Un lamento profundo, como el rugido de leones.

Cien caballos blancos vienen galopando sobre el mar…

Bajo el cielo de la Roca eterna, el levante perdura,
Nos envuelve, nos ciñe, en su danza feroz y oscura.
Roca amada, testigo de siglos, en tu abrazo nos perdemos,
Con el levante, viento que en el alma entendemos.

Cien caballos blancos vienen galopando sobre el mar…

Cuando arrecia incesante, todo es el viento,
Nos acaricia y susurra con su humedo aliento,
Cada gesto, cada mirada, cada semblante,
Todo se funde, todo se pierde, todo es levante.

Cien caballos blancos vienen galopando sobre el mar…

La Roca se rinde al abrazo del viento,
Como un amante, apasionado y sediento.
Se inventa una nube, que se alza como vela de seda,
Y escapa por una ventana, como densa humareda.

Cien caballos blancos vienen galopando sobre el mar,
¡Nada los puede parar!

Judge’s comments: 

A lyrical and somewhat epic poem, personifying what is usually seen by the people of Gibraltar as a dreary moment of levante, and turning it into an unavoidable force of nature that is both muscular and sensual. The poet captures a sense of the enveloping clouds that obsess us so much, as they so rightfully state that in those days, “todo es levante.”

Poetry Competition 2024

Best Poem in the Llanito Category 

“Castle Road”

by Giordano Durante

The essence of Castle Road, its pith, its meat, its core –

Where it starts, in that house ahí del Carta,

Where you grew up, pataleando el top bunk where your Sister slept;

en Carta mismo, los bollos empalagosos and cold Cuts,

mortadella con anillos de aceitunas, the fruit machines

Glowing in a corner – the nub of it, the filthy fulcrum,

Its grubby spirit – más p’arriba in the shuffling of las Viejas

For the evening novena; huelen a rosas y mothballs

And they’re in love con el cura, take him madalenas pal té.

In that smear of juice el camión de basura left this morning,

That’s its heart, its groin, its vital spark – when it plateaus by

El Patio Policía, en los gritos perdidos de los goles

On a concrete pitch, or down where it splits in two, divided

By a dilapidated block – for something so great to double must

Be a marvel, a myth for us to cling to today, its guts, its viscera,

Its frontal lobe – yes, we feel it in the liver, in our mouldy midnight

Coughing, in our weak bladders, in our breathless longing

Porque en la memoria corren todas las calles dentro de nosotros sin fin.

Judge’s comments: 

There’s a Beat Generation spirit to this freewheeling poem, a real anatomy lesson to the Upper Town with all its crust and grime. Yet the poet manages to capture a sense of nostalgia beyond the romantic, with a keen eye that does not shy away from all those moments that make up a childhood. Perhaps in some sense, an elegy to a way of life in that area of Gibraltar that has sadly left us.

Poetry Competition 2024

Llanito Category Runner-Up

“Ai Los Abuelos!”

 by Susan Cabezutto

Ai los abuelos que solcitao estamo,

When we thought we’d finally retired,

Nos dan un full-time job,

Y ensima, ni cobramo.

Estamo to lo dia liao,

Como un pato mareo,

Vamo de aqui para ya,

Ni un instate sin parar.

Mum no te olvide,

Que el nino tiene basketball,

No hija que va, yo no me olvido!

Ponle la equipacion,

Y quedate a ver el partido,

Que despues seguido,

La nina juega a netball, de seven a eight,

Que she umpires, don’t be late.

Remember, que el nino va a de PE.

Dad drop him off at school,

And collect him from Europa Pool.

Despues dale la cena,

Que desde lunch no Habra comido.

Manana recogelo de swimming,

Dad no te quede dormido.

Ai Dios mio, que lio!

Que ya no me acuerdo de na.

Manana tiene la nina dance?

Que ni siquiera tenfo un chance pa respire.

At this rate, I’ll need a secretary,

To program my day, so extraordinary.

Porque ellos nunca pueden,

Siempre tienen un excuse,

Que si el mortgage, el trabajo,

Que si el shellac, y los eyebrows,

El bigote or las vetas,

A este paso vamo termina chifleta.

Mum no llegue tarde,

No hija, que yo nunca tardo,

Aunque tenga la agenda mas complete

Que la de Mr. Picardo.

Judge’s comments:

Poetry is often given to lofty heights of the human condition, but this poem proves how an everyday experience can also bring with a sense of balladry, alongside some crafty humour. And in some ways, this poem is braver than any speaking of a higher cause, daring to say what is often taboo, that grandparents in Gibraltar often have it tough. Vivan los abuelos llanitos!

Poetry Competition 2024

School Years 11-13 Winner

“The Illusion of Equality”

by Bonnie McHard

On Women’s Day, a boy began to speak,

His voice was loud, dismissing all the cause.

“Why do we need a day for women’s week?”

He questioned, blind to all the world’s great flaws.

She walks a path where men have carved their mark,

Each step she takes, she’s forced to bend and bow.

They tell her that the world’s no longer dark-

Yet shadows of their power linger now.

She’s 47 percent more prone to die

In crashes, strapped in seat belts not her size.

The test dummies are men- no wonder why

Her blood is spilled while they ignore her cries.

In every square, more Johns than women stand,

As walk we through Gibraltar’s stony maze.

Where are the women? Few and far they span-

A history crafted in a man’s gaze.

She’s told to use the tools, yet none will fit.

The hammers, drills- they’re built for hands like his.

Her armours weak, her boots too wide to sit

On her feet that tread a world that’s never hers.

Her drugs? They’re tested on the male design.

Her phone? Too large to hold, slips from her hand.

And every safety measure? Misaligned,

Built for his form, while she’s left barely scanned.

Yet still, he asks, “What day is just for me?”

As if the world he stands on isn’t his.

For every day, she fights invisibly,

While he demands a crown for simply this.

The boy’s request rings hollow in the air,

Unseeing all the cracks she fights to fill.

For men have days- each moment everywhere-

While she still climbs the endless, stubborn hill.

Judge’s comments: 

 A thought- provoking and topical poem.The frustration in the speaker’s voice is palpable and clearly expressed through the use of reported dialogue, statistics and rhetorical questions. The regular rhyme scheme, uniform structure and rhythm also add to and underscore the speaker’s sense of struggle and lack of progress. The poem is made more relevant perhaps by drawing attention to Gibraltar’s own history and what the speaker perceives as a ‘stony maze’. A great accomplishment for this teen poet!

Poetry Competition 2024

School Years 11-13 Runner-Up

“Shadow of the Rock”

by Kate Williamson 

In the shadow of the Rock, where I’ve grown tall,

I see my home, and I hear its call.

A blend of worlds in every street,

Where the language of English and Spanish seamlessly meet.

Llanito’s more than just words we say,

It’s the way we live, it’s our everyday.

It’s in the jokes my Nana tells,

and in the stories of old that forever dwell.

You might say it’s just a stage,

But if it’s in my heart, it’s here to stay.

Our history’s a map, a guide so true,

Showing me paths that are old and new.

As I walk through Main Street, I see the past,

In every corner, memories cast.

Buts it’s not just history and culture we carry here,

It’s the future too, that we hold dear.

As a teenager, I know it’s my turn,

To keep this flame ignited, to let it burn.

To speak both tongues, and never forget,

That Lanito’s a bond we can never neglect.

It’s in the music I play, the friends I greet,

In every laugh, and in every heartbeat.

So I’ll keep it close, this precious key,

For it’s not just culture – it’s part of me.

In a world that’s changing, fast and wide,

Gibraltar’s spirit is my guide.

I’ll pass it on, I’ll let it grow,

For in Llanito, my roots will show.

Judge’s Comments: 

An enjoyable poem to read: the references to our home, the metaphor of our collective history as a map for our youthful speaker and the cultural touchstones that we know so well- “Nana”, “Llanito” and the emblematic “this precious key” recalling the Gibraltarian flag. The poet has managed to convey a personal response to their home, whilst also leaving the reader with a sense of hope of cultural continuity in our youth.

Poetry Competition 2024

 School Years 8-10 Winner

“A Good Small Place”

by Yuvraj Ramchandani

Gibraltar known for our history

And our beaches Eastern, Caleta & Sandy Bay

Come to Gib to learn our part in the world war 2 story

You know for a small place we are pretty OK

St Michales cave, apes & our cable car so high,

GBC, Gibraltars national news.

Believe me none of this is a lie,

But sadly the frontier has vert long Queues.

In Gib we speak Llanito,

But the way come & see el Castillo

On the 10^th of September its national day,

When we all shout yippee & hooray!

Judge’s comments: 

A celebratory poem on life in Gibraltar, summed up so cleverly by the title. There are some excellent choices for rhyming words throughout, including being able to get in that dreaded feature of our lives, the border queues. As the poem reaches its conclusion, it draws into the well of our Llanito language and the joy of National Day celebrations.

Poetry Competition 2024

 School Years 8-10 Runner-Up

“An Autumn Poem”

by Jake Stevens

Crisp Autumn Morning

Leaves crunching as they fall

I see Summer creeping away

As people start wearing jackets

I get startled

As children jump in leaves

I Hold on to my hat tight

As a gust of wind tries to blow it away

Now that it is autumn

I don’t think that it is awesome

I miss summer so much

Everyone is preparing for Autumn

Dogs in onesies

Kittens in mittens

Rabbits in jumpers

My mother halloween shopping

and babies in pumpkins

all the leaves in different colours

red ones are my faveourite

I no longer smell the salty sea air

Now I smell pumpkin everywhere

The swallows are now migrating to Africa

but the Blackbirds and robins stay.

I realise Autumns not so bad,

its just, a little cold

Judge’s comments: 

 There is beautiful imagery throughout this autumnal poem, with its confident and straightforward use of language. You can almost hear the leaves crunching and feel the wind on the back of your neck as you read it. There are also some instances of humour through rhyme, with kittens in mittens. The poem ends so wonderfully, with an expert local eye at the passing of the season, including the observation of a change in the smell of the air, and bird migratory

Poetry Competition 2024

School Years 6-7 Winner

“New Beginnings”

by Lewis Bennett

The days can be low, the days can be high

At the end of the day, your conscience starts to fly

Blocking out everything that makes you feel your worst

All you want is just to not burst.

People can be kind, People can be cruel

Overexaggerating and making you feel a fool

But besides all that, there’s things that make you feel delighted

And what comes with that are things that make you feel frightened

Descending darkly down a hole, not sure if there’s anything to help you

Always trying to be happy, but truly feeling as down as the colour blue

BOOM, ZAP, CRASH, suddenly you feel dizzy

It feels like you just drank something fizzy

Now that that’s happened, everything’s become simple

Your work doesn’t look like an ancient hieroglyph symbol

Getting work done in a short time has become very easy

Not being awkward has become nice and breezy.

No more procrastination or leaving it till later,

No longer feeling like your own traitor.

Judge’s comment: 

A poem with a message of positivity and resilience. Great use of repetition in the first lines of the first two stanzas to convey the difficulties felt by the speaker, closely followed by the haunting image of the descent into darkness. The negativity felt by the speaker is clear in the use of similes and onomatopoeia. However the positive turn in stanza 4 is reassuring and lightens the ending leaving us with a sense of achievement and celebration on the part of the speaker. The use of similes in the final lines- “hieroglyph”, “traitor”- is powerful, leaving us with a clear sense of the speaker’s sense of relief at their new-found success.

Poetry Competition 2024

School Years 6-7 Runner-Up

“My Pencil”

by Nikita Jones

When I go to art,

My pencil follows me there,

It helps me draw and dances across the paper.

My pencil has created marvellous creations,

And it’s certainly working on something special.

Something I’ll never know.

When it’s done it needs some rest,

Because all the dancing has paid off.

Soon my pencil will be gone,

Because it’s getting old.

Let’s hope it last a little longer,

Before there’s no magic left.

Judge’s comments:

The personification of the pencil is delightful- helping, drawing, dancing, creating as if with a mind of its own. The second and final stanza is full of pathos and we join the speaker in their hope for a little bit more time to enjoy the pencil’s “magic”.

Poetry Competition 2024

School Years 4-5 Winner

“Nostalgia”

by Saanvi Khiani

Nostalgia is brown,

It takes like my granny’s cookies

And smells like my granny’s perfume,

Nostalgia looks like the back of my brain,

The sound of calming music,

Nostalgia is forget me not!

Judge’s comments: 

 An evocative poem making use of sensory language in a series of images that we can all relate to- who among us isn’t immediately transported by a whiff of perfume favoured by a loved one? Although the lines work well as stand alone images, the combined effect is particularly engaging, especially for such a young poet

Poetry Competition 2024

 School Years 4-5 Runner-Up

“The Amount your Sister can Teach You”

by Cora Ann Lopez

When I was born my sister was three

She taught me how to speak

She also taught me to climb a tree

Such a memorable thing for me

Lots of shows in the living room

Cookies baked in the kitchen

Always arguing to our doom

Punching, slapping, kicking – BOOM

My sister is someone I really like

Our family adventures are phenomenal

She taught me how to ride a bike

And how to love going on a hike

Of all the things I’ve learnt from her

The most special thing of all

Is that she is the best sister

(But I’ll only admit that in a whisper)

SHHH!!! Don’t tell her.

Judge’s Comment: 

 This poem will resonate with many of us as it conveys the bittersweet relationship shared by siblings. Interestingly, after the climactic ‘BOOM!’ of the fight between sisters, the speaker returns to the present tense to reiterate the close bond between the two warring siblings. I particularly liked the direct address to the reader in the final lines, and the shared secret- a heartwarming note to end on.