October 14, 2018 - YWP "Anthology 9" Book Launch at Maglianero Cafe in Burlington, VT
Congratulations to all the young writers and artists who are published in YWP's new book, "Anthology 9." It was such a privilege and incredibly inspiring to listen to all these speakers and to be able to be a part of something so incredible. Congrats to everyone!
 

i heard today
that they're saying there's only twelve years left
before global warming goes too far. 
twelve years. 
i'll only be twenty-seven. 
i don't want the world to end
when i'm twenty-seven. 
and i honestly don't know what to think. 
there's nothing so beguiling
as the power of denial. 
nothing like wrapping yourself up
in your won problems 
and consoling yourself with the thought
that twelve years is a long time. 
and indeed, 
there's nothing else i can do. 
i can do nothing to change this. 
sure, 
i can recycle,
and walk more, 
and think optimistic thoughts
but the only thing that that bolsters is my ego, 
my sense that i'm helping the world. 
i already do the first two of those things. 
it makes no difference. 
the people who could actually change this
don't, 
or don't do enough, 
or maybe it's just too late. 

Beautiful and unusual
You, a moonshine monster
Open your lips to the heavens
And tell me which it is you dread more
As you howl out your solemn question
Is it the echo or the answer?
Would you rather know that you are alone
Or live wondering what is out there?

I will live as a map on your wall
That you fill with red pushpins and stickers
Marking all of the places you have dreamt of
From the back of a pickup truck in September
On the nights that you barely remember living
Filled with good company and crisp autumn air
Take me with you wherever you go
Whether to the edge of town or the end of the world.

So tell me is this a simple seasonal change?
Or are the trees truly catching fire?
The leaves drift so easily to the ground
While I always seem to fall much harder
Bare branches are all you seem to see
No nuance, no heart to the picture

1. How do the thousands of spiders that
crawl up and down my cells appear
so fast? The weight, every voice
becomes another creature of a
hysteria based affliction. Even in the
dark, like a twig you didn’t snap,
whiplash from the shock but even a
soothing voice feels just like a lie.

2. What does it feel like to hold long
and fast a sound mind. To grip the bouy
through even the worst monsoons, shake
yourself off, wag your tail, and do it again.
I still get up with all teeth showing but
my sockets are empty and face gaunt
and white, waterlogged with salt pouring
from my wounds.

3. How can the spring not lift you high,
everyone shines around you pink with
the new pearly moon and you still sit,
sectioned off with winter still on your
shoulders, sucking yourself in afraid of
the inevitable absence of light, it’s still
months away.

Every autumn, when the leaves change,
So do I.

When the breeze picks up in fall,
I sing and sigh.

The geese fly south, towards warmer winters,
And I stay behind.

Some creatures hibernate, while I
Gasp and open my eyes.

Others enjoy sand-baked beaches, and picnics,
I rejoice in fall change.

I throw off my summer sweater and
Wear flowing dresses of autumn coloring;

Ambers, oranges, yellows, reds,
They surround me like a song.

My shorn hair grows out in brown and gold,
Flowing long out in the wind.

My dim, brown eyes sparkle with energy
And glimmer violet,

Thin wings of golden lace appear
And I glide out into my world.

Through spring and summer, I'm not noticed much,
But now I can't escape their gasps.

Autumn's when the true me shines 
And can be seen.

I tread the paths of fallen leaves

i have never found myself in poetry,
but i think i may have found myself in your arms
as we sit in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle;
your soft eyes and parted lips, sculpted by aphrodite
as you silently boil the water. 

you have careful fingers as you pour the hot water
into two red, chipped mugs. i remember the
gentle pressure of those fingers twisted in my hair. 

curled green leaves lay with small jasmine flowers,

Are you looking for a way to have your voice heard in the midterms? Check out this project for "students who can't vote to inspire adults who don't."  Create a video directed at the "115 million Americans who aren’t planning on voting in this election" with the message to "please consider voting FOR me!"

Big, big thank you to all the writers, photographers and artists who are published in Anthology 9 -- and your families and friends -- who joined us for the launch of this beautiful book Oct. 14! Maglianero's was packed. We counted 130 people squeezed into the cafe to celebrate and share the YWP spirit! If you missed the launch and want a copy of the anthology, please email Susan Reid: [email protected]. Thanks everyone!! See YWP photographer Lia Chien's photos of the event.

Check out this week's YWP NEWSLETTER, edited by our amazing (anonymous) Community Leaders. Exceptional writing, photos and YWP news designed to celebrate your work.
Enjoy all the newsletters here!
 

Great response to our planned online Playwriting Workshop; everyone preferred a January start, so ... we'll start at the New Year.

HOWEVER, please sign up NOW to help us plan. A big part of this is the support -- feedback, suggestions, ideas -- you give each other so the more the better. I will be leading this workshop and will pull in some writerly friends in the draft stage to help get some fresh eyes on your work. 

The best plays by middle and high school students will be presented ON STAGE as part of Vermont Young Playwrights festival in May.

Ready? And we welcome students OUTSIDE of Vermont to participate. (If your play is chosen for performance, you can watch it streamed live!) MORE INFO and SIGN UP HERE!