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VPR Selection -- Van de Ven
Submitted by admin2006 on Wed, 05/29/2013 - 1:29pm
Happily Ever After
By Sam Van de Ven
Grade Nine, Woodstock Union High School
I'm not perfect
or your dream come true
and I won't deny it
you aren't too.
But if we meet in the middle
and you slide on my glass shoe
you don't need a white horse
or a magic mirror to break through.
Let's check out which magical spell
we dipped into
there's no other love like this
spell binding one with you.
Sometimes your nose grows
just like Pinocchio's.
Sometimes you fit the image of the beast
while I'm the beauty,
but it's okay, because you rush in on your white horse
like it's your duty.
Beneath my bed,
you planted one thousand peas; Read more »
A Not So Fairy Tale - Recording
Submitted by Kyrridwen on Sat, 05/25/2013 - 4:44pm
She sat alone at the dinner table. Her eyes drifted to the empty chair besides her, plate set for one who would never sit there again.
"I'm back," He whispered in her ear, hands on the back of her chair.
"You left me," she replied. Her once bright eyes were now vacuous, trained on her cooling plate.
"I never REALLY left, you know."
"But you did, and that's the thing."
"I was always in your heart."
"Those apologies only work in fairytales."
He moved to kneel besides her, a look of loss flashing in his eyes. "You used to love those old stories."
Her eyes never left her plate as she replied "I grew up."
He sat back, eyes sad. "When did that happen?"
She stood up, eyes still downcast.
"When my father died."
A silence fell between them, heavy and thick. So much was told with no words, yet so little was heard. Read more »
Eternal Night podcast
Submitted by taylor13 on Fri, 05/24/2013 - 9:07amEyes wander around a broken world to find nothing but darkness
I'm searching..What am I searching for?
I'm waiting...
What am I waiting for?
The whole world is at the edge of the cliff, and we're stuck in the moment of suspense.
The air is too quiet
The trees are silent
No more whispers or lullabies from the wind
The moon is holding up the sky, the sun won't pull away the stars
Why do the stars look so devious? like they are wise eyes full of secrets
Catastrophe is building in our hearts
The night is swallowing us whole, the darkness brings out our deepest fears, our darkest desires.
A poor man can't be seen as he steals,
a wise man has watched his sanity run from his grasp on two feet of ignorance
I want to set fire to the world, watch the flames leap and lick at the sky, I want the stars to melt on my tongue, so the sun may once again burn up the sky.
The night sky is heavy with thoughts, we all lie here with memories drenching us in regrets.
We never had the chance to kiss the sun goodbye,
we never had the chance to caress the clouds
we never had the chance to taste the light blue spilling through the trees
Night was beautiful. A time to rest and remember everything
we had always had the sun to look forward to in the morning.
Morning...Is it morning now? is this our morning cast in the shadows...are we being resented? resented by the beautiful day lit sky?
I see no smiles on these faces of the shunned Read more »
VPR Selection -- Farm Project winner -- Malloy
Submitted by admin2006 on Tue, 05/21/2013 - 12:50pm
Summer on the Farm
by Carley Malloy
Grade 7
I’ve decided that a family farm is a lot like a barbed wire fence; running smooth for a little while, and then running into a twist or barb that slows things down. My last year and a half has been spent working on my grandparents’ farm. Each day has been a new adventure, and I often catch myself looking back and saying, “remember the day…”
I like summer on the farm the most; the weather has warmed so the barn can be left open and I can hear the jingling of chains as the cows turn their heads to look when I come in. Summer on the farm means haying, fencing, cleaning up the winter’s mess, and letting the cows outside to stretch their long legs. Kittens and calves are born and you have the fun of tracking them down every morning to see where their mothers have decided to move them.
We spent much of our time fixing fence, but I was on crutches for a few weeks, which meant there wasn’t much I could do to help. One hot summer day, my grandfather, mom, and two of my cousins were all working down the hill from the barn, next to the road. My grandfather, unlike most farmers, fixes fence with an excavator. It works great; one person holds the fence post up and he pushes it in with the excavator bucket, and two or three others go behind and start stringing wire. Read more »
God's Nightmares (Music Project)
Submitted by Archibald the P... on Mon, 05/13/2013 - 8:38pmSo I think this is ready for some feedback. It's a work in progress, and not even close to half done. So tell me what you think. I was picturing a character in one of my stories when I was doing it, thus the title happened.
VPR Selection -- Dabagian
Submitted by admin2006 on Mon, 05/13/2013 - 11:47am
Here’s a short excerpt from a longer piece titled “What Stranger? That’s Me in the Photo.” A reminiscence inspired by this actual photo.
What Stranger? That's Me in the Photo.
By Jack Dabagian
Grade Eleven, Milton High School
I had no idea what lay ahead of me. Only focusing on the present, taking carpe diem way to literally. Every photo of my childhood, every single time my face shows up in one of the million photos in my family's photo albums, they all show similar themes: sad or happy. Never a middle ground for emotions when I grew up. I either had the time of my life or was losing all sense of control.
But regardless of my emotional state, when I was aware of my picture being taken, I always smiled. I only appeared distressed in photos when I wasn't ready for a photo to be taken. Some photos are when my mom mandated me to sit or stand somewhere, either with my sisters, relatives, or myself in all my own glory. Other photos are taken like a tourist on an African safari, and I'm the animal. Read more »
Shut Up Mom Just Five More Minutes
Submitted by Archibald the P... on Sun, 05/12/2013 - 5:05pm
She nags and she pleads
Screams “Get out of bed, please!”
I’d yell, “Five more minutes!”
Shed reply, “Goodbye, car privileges.”
I suppose it’s her job,
To make my life hell
After I spent so long
Making hers hell too
Eighteen years of shenanigans
It’s amazing that she still can
Put up with me daily
Without trying to strangle me
I guess it’s her duty
To keep my on my toes
And although it annoys me
I suppose she’s annoyed too
She’s the spine of the family
And sometimes it’s quite scary
When she’s at the end of her rope
Best not to get too close
Maybe she’s a superhero
When I get on her nerves
Maybe she’s a god, or
Maybe she just loves me
Sometimes she upsets me
Irritates and dictates me
And although she’s a terror
She’s my mom, and I love her
VPR Selection -- Ellis
Submitted by admin2006 on Tue, 05/07/2013 - 3:46pm
by Aiden Ellis
Grade 12
Think back to when you used to be so high
You rarely spoke and I refused to cry
but its coming back the days gone by
it's just a fact the hammer split your soul
You'll sing off a mountain top,
But nobody knows,
Nobody hears.
But please don't you ever stop.
It seems you don't recall the beating of the drum.
You're taking what you can not caring who it's from.
It's just as if it all was new,
and you had no one to answer to.
You'll sing off a mountain top,
But nobody knows,
Nobody hears.
But please don't you ever stop.
