Saturday, March 25, 2017

ICWD 2016 Award Winners

back to Writers Competition


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.



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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



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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



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.


Colorless, things are

left to the imagination,


a celebration!


I am a broken crayon

with no color.