YWP Content Published in Newspapers

Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.


Apr 07
Sydney's picture

The Doorway on My Tongue

Open close, open close, listen speak, wonder act. 
For some the door is almost always open. For better and worse.
For some the door is almost never open and listening is their forte. 
Some make an effort to open it; they push and push and try all the keys on their key chains without knowing that no key on a chain will be the answer. 
Some take a different route and don't even try the handle. 
They whisper and chant and mumble and rant and wave their arms to try to cast opening spells on the door when really they are trying to cast those spells on themselves.
A chosen few take the third route of simplicity.
They open their minds and think of a kindhearted compliment to tell themselves before attempting the door; then when they speak, the door opens willingly for them.
Apr 05

sunset(tle in)

cobweb filament shatters 
over your knuckle 
dust dissolving in a sunlight fountain 

catnap in a creaky pink 
recliner arms around 
the girl who writes you love notes 
orange glow through the 
crack between curtain and window

red light on your mouth, 
in her hair, warming posters on the walls 
holes in your blanket bunched up in the corner chapstick kiss on your forehead

what color are my eyes tonight, love?

black like the sky now

Apr 05
Hope_for_the_future's picture

Too large for life

A pale pink lace dress
Laid at my feet
I kneel and pick it up
Feel the itch lacy between my fingers
Rip, I start to rip it
It will never fit
My body is too large
Obtuse with life
Growing feeling and skin
I vomit pain in an attempt to control
The pale pink dress
Lay at my feet up untouched
“ It’s time to go”
My mom calls
I shove and shave
Myself into the pale pink dress.
Apr 04
Stella GGD's picture

Your Journey

Life is a journey under your control
          Right,          Forward,
It's where you want to go
It's also your choice on how you treat other people
I should hope with kindness as well as equal

Their your words that you say
Your actions you do
No matter what they say
Your in control of you
Apr 04


“They’re seaming”
Too-perfectly ripened
Just plump enough
Flushed skins nearly tearing
Bursting at their seams
(hence the term)

In soft beds of fertile soil
Carefully, patiently tended
Beckoned forth by the sun
Hanging heavy on thick vines
Reaching and climbing cages
Beside the basil
And oregano

Rudely plucked
More hastily sliced
The cutting board stained with juice
Red pulp and seeds
Salted (pink Himalayan)
And peppered (black Malabar)

Small, patient bites
Slowly savoring, dripping juice
The fruit still warm
Or greedily now, the entire slice
Sweetness floods the mouth
All at once

Brandywine, husk cherry, sunkissed
Rose blush, garden gem, Roma grape (Juliet)
Mighty sweet jubilee
Simply sunshine and soil
Summer’s bounty

Apr 03

If You Care

YWP Archive Photo by Kevin Huang

Someone stops there to take
that picture every night,
pausing briefly,
retrieving their phone,
and taking home
their frozen moment. 

It's a very pretty picture,
this city at night.

Lights from windows and streetlamps
dimly illuminate and outline
the buildings.
There are so many of us
 that we turn the
splatter-painted sky
a duller, hazier color.

If you care,
I'm the one three windows
to the left of the corner
on the 17th floor
of that ruddy brown building.
Yes, I'm the one next to
the two dark rooms.

If you really squint,
your tired eyes
just might notice the
threadbare green couch,
stained by coffee on its right armrest,
that I sit next to.

Or you might see the dusty bookshelf,
Apr 02
poem 0 comments challenge: Earth
Ellal's picture

Colors of life

As the sun shines the moons eyes open wide
They look down at planet earth and see green and blue
The colors of life 
Dinosaurs hop around 
The moon closes its eyes
Remaining shut for 200 million years
When the moons eyelids peel open…
They close again 
The sight is unbearable 
In that brief moment what the moon saw,
were not the colors of life 
Green faded to grey
Blue faded to brown
That doesn't happen naturally,
It isn't how colors fade,
But now dinosaurs are replaced with humans
Things are different now 
What's different?
Humans have discovered more than any other species
You'd think they would be smart
But earth has lost its beauty 
And the moon can't even find the colors of life 
Mar 31

Flyer Wall

A massive board covers the wall
covered with ad flyers
Music festivals, job opportunities, internships, service, products
all competing for space and attention.
Piled on top of each other, 
forming a sea of choice
that blends together into a jumbled
incoherent mess of words.
Jim stares blankly at the wall
unable to decide.
In each colorful paper
he sees visions of things that he could become.
Each one holds a parallel universe
that holds a person who is better than himself.
What group will he join?          
What does he want to be?
He feels that if he stares at the wall,
a sheet of advertisements,
the answer will come to him.

Mar 30
Ca.cook's picture


     When I was young I loved to climb trees. I can't count how many hours I have spent sitting at the top of a tree. One day I was down by the goat pastures while my mom was doing vet work on our goat herd. I had climbed to the top of the tree and sat at the top looking out across the field. I had chosen this tree because it was the best around for climbing, but it also had a barbed wire fence underneath it that made the fall seem even more ominous.
Mar 30
Jacksonj's picture

A Town

I can see the world from here,
I can see on one side a huge mountain range,
Full of mountains with white lines where people ski and snowboard, 
And others just covered in trees,
And at the top of every mountain, there is a white cap full of snow,
On the other side a huge lake where people are sailing, windsurfing, and fishing,
There are big ferries and tiny dinghies,
I can see a tiny college town full of people walking around,
They look like tiny dots running around like the dots on old TV’s after midnight but in color,
I can see at least three steeples all rising high above the other buildings,
What waits for me at the bottom of the tree is a town ready for me to do almost anything,