flash contest

Weekly Flash Contest #4: Write a Poem About a Found Object in your Kitchen Go into the kitchen. Stand in front of a cupboard with food in it (or the fridge). Close your eyes, open the door (or better still, have someone else open it for you), stretch out your hand, and touch something. Keep your hand where it is. Open your eyes. Look at the thing you are touching. Congratulations! You just found the object that you are going to write a poem about. Every week during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements we are running a Flash Contest, based on the first Daily Creativity prompt of the week. The prompt is posted on Monday, and entries are due by Friday. The week commencing April 20th (Daily Creativity prompt #21) was our fourth week, and our food theme really got everyone’s creative juices flowing! You obviously had fun finding your food objects, and thinking of creative ways to write about them. We enjoyed reading each and every one of the entries, and it was just as difficult as ever to choose our top 5 this week–so difficult, in fact, that we chose 7, and we added some Honorable Mentions again. Congratulations, everyone! Winners (work published on this page) Eliana Aschheim, 13, Santa Clara, CA Iris Fink, 8, Beloit, WI Enni Harlan, 13, Los Angeles, CA Julia Marcus, 13, Culver City, CA Ava Shorten, 10, Mallow, Ireland Adele Stamenov, 10, Bethel Park, PA Emerson Swift, 12, Mill Valley, CA Honorable Mentions “My Journey” by Alexander Frey, 9, Herndon, VA “A Kid’s Gotta Eat” by Liam Hancock, 12, Danville, CA We also received another drawing from Allie Dollar, 11, of Monticello, FL, that provides the perfect illustration for this week’s contest post. Thank you, Allie! Remember, we are running the Flash Contest every week during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements. It is always based on the first Daily Creativity prompt of the week. The prompt is posted on Monday, entries are due by Friday, and the winners are chosen and announced the following week. Jelly By Eliana Aschheim, 13     I can only watch Him sitting there with Her Peanut Butter and Apricot Preserves His arm wrapped around Her shoulder So pleased, so charmed To be together We were an item The two of us We loved each other dearly PB and J We were adored All the good magazines raved about our perfection Kids everywhere rejoiced when they saw us Peanut Butter and Jelly Until A new movement swept in Like a scheming hurricane It rattled through my life Igniting, spreading viciously, Gaining followers, making its way to Even our most devout supporters “Health” Was the cause “Low sugar” and “All-Natural” Were the rallying cries Taken up by supermarkets everywhere I watched As this new Apricot Preserves Dared to enter our sacred home Of Peanut Butter and Jelly Alas! Her cunning ways! Even Peanut Butter, My faithful companion Was taken with her I watched As I slowly was pushed to a corner Of the fridge From disuse And Peanut Butter He took her arm instead of mine With only a regretful glance at me My eyes were on him the whole time Here I watch From this desolate corner, Among the moldy Sour Cream And a rotting, half-eaten Apple Forgotten But the thing is, Sour Cream and Jelly Does not make a good sandwich Even the bread agreed It’s just not a good combination I’m an outcast, now, in this fridge Once I stood proudly in the front Now I slump, saddened, in the back On the same level As Sour Cream And a rotting Apple And I watch Peanut Butter with that Apricot Preserves Animal Crackers By Iris Fink, 8 Animals in cracker form, a truly delicious food. If you add banana, it will brighten your mood. But don’t you ever feel that biting their heads off is rude? An Onion Enni Harlan, 13 I peel an onion, layer by layer, Watching it shrink slowly. Onions are a bit like people; You have to work hard To see what is truly inside, Deep, deep, down at the core. Tossing aside the flaky yellow peels, I stare forlornly at the perfect sphere. It looks plain, yet lovely, Simple yet elegant, This onion whose inner beauty I have yet to find. My dark eyes drill into the onion, which seems to stare back at me, blankly. With one hand, I grasp the ebony handle of a razor sharp knife. I clutch the smooth surface of the onion in the other hand, preparing to make My blow. My knife digs into the flesh of the onion. Juice squirts out, and tears spring to my eyes. I wipe them hurriedly, But they refuse to stop. Blinded by my watering eyes, I continue to cut Somewhat aimlessly. The onion, now sliced, Lays before me in a pot Darker than night. The flame is ignited, and the onions begin to sizzle. Its sharp, distinct smell transforms sweet As the stove works its wonders. The wooden spatula in my hand Clanks against the pot, Creating a symphony. A while later, I raise a few slices of onion to my mouth, Which is now watering more than my eyes. Thoughtfully, I chew, until a smile spreads Across my face. It’s delicious. Sugar By Julia Marcus, 13 The white drops of sweetness. The snow spilling over the top of the pancakes. The roughness scraping against the spatula as I attempt to submerge every grain into the floury abyss. The particles left on the counter when the brownies are warming in the oven, the purest form of heaven and tantalization for my nose. The one thing the mug of cocoa needs more of, without it it’s just a bitter, milky cup of steam. The huge cylindrical container in the cabinet, blocking the view of countless bags and boxes and sporting the familiar faded label: Sugar. Moustache Ava Shorten, 10 I twist the cap, anticlockwise