anthology08

Every Second Counts

By Shannon Moriarity
Benson Village School, Grade 8

Your palms are sweaty,
Your vision blurred.
Little butterflies fluttering
In the depths of your stomach.

You cock your head up,
And look at the score.
It’s 33 to 32,
And it’s your team that’s behind.

The ball is in your hands,
The time ticking down…
30 seconds…29…28…
27…26…

You begin to dribble
The knots in your stomach tighten.
19…18…17…
You’re only at half-court.

A defender picks you up,
Concentrated on your moves.
You bounce the ball between your legs,
And you’re past the defense.

6…5…4…
You square up your feet,
And bring the ball to your chest.
You jump, releasing the ball…

2…1…
The ball kisses the rim,
And falls through the net.
Score!

The Stowe Duals

By Conner Gorman
Charlotte Central School, Grade 5

I’m in the gate. I’m so nervous my goggles are fogged up. The clock counts down, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, go! I’m off, all I can think about is, “Skate, skate, skate, glide.” Here comes the first gate, “Crack, shhhwissshhh! I hit the gate and glide around it. Now here’s the second gate. As I go by, I see the crowd, and it fuels me to finish. The third and fourth go by just like the first two. I hit the jump and get really nervous. Am I going to make it? Yes!! I make it. Now, only eight more gates. It looks really icy, can I do it? Will I fall? Will I win? Then I see my friends and think, “It really doesn’t matter about my time because I’m new to the sport, and I’m having fun. It doesn’t even matter if I fall, I can get back up and finish.” I summon up all my strength and finish. In the end, all that really mattered was that I tried and I had fun.

Losing Weight

By Alicia Waite
Rochester High School, Grade 9

Fat, skinny and in between,
No matter what people can be mean,
It makes you wonder and it makes you think,
Sometimes it takes you to the brink,

Television newspapers and magazines,
People always trying to fit between the scenes,
Never feeling good enough,
But always acting tough.

Celebrities make it seem too easy,
But they are really oh so cheesy,
With their plastic surgery and liposuction,
Without these so-called necessities they could not function,

Physical features can’t always be read,
You have to look deeper instead,
Look past the illusion and find your heart,
Think things through before you start,
Because loosing weight can be great,
But going to far will tempt fate.

Just remember you are who you are,
And be careful not to take it too far,
Because celebrities have no problem going under the knife,
But for us, there is so much more to life.

Do You Remember?

By Sarah Levine
The Grammar School, Grade 8

I am small
and you are big
and powerful
but bigger isn't always
better
some man with knowing blue eyes
taught me that
I miss the grass
whispering sweet nothings in the warm August wind
calling out
to insects, couples, and human feet
back then we were equal
I never thought of you
as something that I had to
form to
only as someone
who was to be loved
there are so many
so many
but I will find my way
through this labyrinth of loss
and come out on the other side
glowing.

Can't Find the Words

By Sam Stockwell
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

What to do when the words cannot be found
The emotion’s so overwhelming
You cannot write it
You cannot speak it
You want to pour out your heart
Cry
Laugh
Put it on display for others
You want them to know
Know the pain
The joy
But the words have escaped you
They are simply nowhere to be found
Your heart and soul will explode
You must put it in writing
But everything is so muddled
So mixed up
So perplexing
You cannot distinguish anymore
All your emotions are jumbled up
You feel…
How do you feel?
You no longer have any idea
But
It is at this time
When you feel the knot so tight in your chest
When your whole self is swallowed up
This is when you finally know what to say
Finally,
Pen to paper
Fingers to keys
Finally you are able to pour forth what you feel
Finally
The agonizing journey is completed

If i could capture
beauty
in a single, simple word
A word that would
sing beauty
to anyone that heard.
Then i would wrap it in a
box
A red one with a bow
And inscibe it with some bluish
ink
so everyone would know,
that i love you, and you
love me,
and there's nothing we can do.
So i'll take my beauty
in a box,
and present it all to you.

~Special

This is you,
me,
and the raging beast of society,
floating along the river of time,
into the sea of eternity.

Bobbing like corks,
we'll discover whether,
or not,
we exist,
among the immortal
icons.

It's sink or swim,
only the best will survive.
i plan on being there,
above the surface,
on a raft made of these words

Life Lost

By Rose Wunrow
U-32 Middle School, Grade 8

I felt the starlight in my hair, the moon upon my cheek,
The smoke upon the steeple, the ice beside the creek,
I heard a whisper of the night, and the dreams upon the day
I heard the aspen tell the oak someone special died today.

I saw the tears the river shed, and the willow weep in wonder,
I saw the mountains stop and listen, and the magpie halt its plunder,
I tasted salt upon the ashes of a fire out at sea,
I tasted blood beneath the breeze, and the end of history -

Who has died today, I wonder? Anyone that I should know?
For though the world mourns in silence, its pain begins to show -
I ask the birds, yet they turn, and fly in misery
Calling someone, someone, who is lost into the sea.

Then I realize and my heart begins to stammer, and stutter
And the shock is so complete that the earth begins to flutter
And the tears are falling silent as the sky above my head, Read more »

By Justinah Duhaime
Hartford High School, Grade 12

My favorite black maple in the back yard is a miserable
drunk.
Gangly and alone, she licks the intoxicating snow
flakes from her toes, as
her body is relentlessly stabbed, her syrup inevitably stolen.

In the mud of spring, she is unwillingly
sober.
But when the green meadow warms her soul, at last,
she gathers her thread and sews herself a thousand gloves,
gracefully protecting her fingers, cracked and fragile from a winter binge.

My Secret Spot
By: Ken McFadden
Grade 8 Read more »

The Skating Pond
By Bethany Sullivan
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 11

Snowflakes melt into droplets
Suspended on the wool fibers
Of red mittens.
Stinging fingers buried inside
Grasp at another mittened hand.

A blue glove pats the girl’s back.
She’s never been skating before,
But the boy strides backwards,
Arm extending as he tugs her after him,
Coaxing, a laugh in every syllable.
She follows, catches on,
And soon stands on sturdy legs,
Taking ambitious strokes.

Snowflakes pirouette from a young, gray sky
The sun seeps behind the mountains,
Pooling on the horizon
Like melted butter
On Christmas morning pancakes.
Snow,
Like confectioner’s sugar
Collecting in the boy’s hair
As he skates in strong strokes,
Both laughing out
Gingerbread house laughs,
Breath misty on the lively, crisp air.

Carnival colors, captive
In strings of lights,
Twine around the pond
Glowing like candles,
Flames of joy vibrant
Against the twilight sky Read more »

This is about my autistic brother

By Hugh Garrett Randall
Rochester High School, Grade 10

Living, breathing, seeing, being.
You are always there with a physical appearance and a smile
But you say nothing.
On and on you stare as each day goes by.
What are you thinking about?
You are living, I feel you.
I hear your cries; I feel the walls and the floor as they shake.
No one knows your pain, not even me.
And I’ve known you for 16 years.
I wish I could let you know it’s alright.
That you have a family that loves you,
Friends that would stick by you through anything. Read more »

Flower: A Villanelle

By Sophie Glickman
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 11

Stuck in a bubble of haze
This routine numbs me
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

These halls become a maze
The way through so clear, I can’t see
Stuck in this bubble of haze

Standing in line with red plastic trays
Crowds, noises and smells, now I’m dizzy
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

Friendly, I give and receive praise
But few words really penetrate me
Stuck in a bubble of haze

Laughter comes and goes, frustration stays
Even when I’m fine there’s melancholy
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

I eat the doughnut in its sticky glaze
Thinking of healthier ways to be
I’m stuck in a bubble of haze
A wilted flower in a plastic vase

This is one of the podcasts created when a few students read their work from the YWP Anthology at the recent gathering. To listen to the others, click here or click "anthopodcasts" in keywords above. -gg

By Rebecca Valley
St. Albans Town Educational Center, Grade 8

I know
That sometimes
You think that I don’t tell you things.

That’s because sometimes
I don’t.

And there are times
When you say that you love me
And don’t feel the same love
When I say it back.

Just remember,
I do.

And I know
That you wonder
What I think about
When I sit and stare out the car window.

Truth be told,
Sometimes I don’t know,
Either.

But I want you to know
That of all the people in the world
I’ve always been able
To look up
At you.

So here’s this poem
So that you know
That when I say thank you
I really
Really
Mean it.

Peel me a New Skin

By Casey Hayes
Rutland High School, Grade 12

Peel back the image
In your mind-
And see the real me.
For, I am not what I seem.
I am a liar,
And I've decieved you again. Read more »

By Emily Lyman
Mater Christi, Grade 4

I look into the snowman's coal black eyes
they seem troubled
like the eyes of a lost traveler
far from home

He begins to cry icy tears
that sting my skin
as I reach out
to brush them away

Memories flood my mind
of that cold day
I went out
to create a living thing
that I now realize
might never make it
to Spring.

My Secret Spot

By Ken McFadden
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 8 Read more »

My Name

By Bea Woodruff
Charlotte Central School, Grade 5

There I was, upstairs in my playroom, sweating like crazy. It felt like a volcano was erupting inside of me, a volcano of frustration!

Learning to write my name was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, probably in my whole entire life. It didn’t make sense, “silent-e”, letter formation. I thought the whole thing hogwash! I was absolutely sure that I couldn’t do it!

“Come on, Bea!” I urged myself on. I made a “B.” One down two to go! “Yes, Bea you did it!” I congratulated myself. I was proud, probably as proud as a fox with its prey.
Then I forgot what came next. Fierce tears burned and glittered in my eyes, like boiling water.
I finally crossed out the “B” then, wholeheartedly I wrote another “B,” then an “e.” “Go Bea!” I cheered. Read more »

Deer Hunting Gone wrong: When Guns Attack

I was in the emergency room. I kept shaking and I couldn’t stop crying. I was so nervous; my heart was beating so fast I felt like I was going to pass out. Hang on, let’s start from the beginning — youth hunting weekend 2006, I was hunting with Dad and my sister when something terrible happened.

It was 4:30 a.m. and I was just waking up to head out into the woods. My dad, sister Jackie, and I went out with flash lights and guns in hand. I had been waiting for this day all year, especially after seeing a nice 8-point buck on a motion detector camera in the area where we were hunting. A few hours passed, and we saw our first deer. The deer was moving so I followed it with my gun, then it decided to stop behind a tree. I had a choice here, the head or the hind leg. I chose the leg and missed. Read more »

Pillar of Sparks

By Sean McCoy
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

It moves in golden waves that twist, turn and fly,
I t sends off pillars of sparks that trail up in to the sky,
Its colors are amazing, ones that move in a beat,
And its reassuring light gives off a calming heat.

It’s man greatest weapon, but also a tool,
And it saves us from dying of temperatures too cool.
It’s what we have, that animals desire,
If you have not guessed yet, I’m writing about fire!

Grateful

By Rachel Elizabeth Malone
Fairfield Center School, Grade 5 Read more »

The Attic

By Emily Coon
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 12

She breaks the cradle
for firewood,
splintering along seams,
rocking horse dreams
melting away
beneath heat’s lick.
She folds up red jumpsuits,
places bobble hats
quietly
inside
an oaken box
her father left.
She turns a key
swift click
of oblivion.
She lifts it to a high shelf
above the window
worn leather toes
stretching up
as she caresses its lock
and hinges.
It sits, stunted
embryo of memory,
a seed entombed
in its white paper
packet, waiting
to grow.

By Molly Pekarik
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 9

Tilt your head a little more
Look through the corner of your eyes
Smile more unsurely than is necessary
Above all be polite
Make yourself smaller, the bench is long
Clasp your hands nervously
Flip your hair
Laugh at all his jokes
Order another glass of water
Part your lips slightly
Plead with your eyes
Ask to share your desert
Wipe the whipped cream off his face
Let him help you out the door
Talk before you get in the car
Brush his arm gently
And grin off-center
Do not protest when he sweeps you
Into a long embrace
Kiss him back
Hold it a minute longer than you want to
Cast your eyes down and pull your coat tighter
Yes, there will be another date.

Let's Play Telephone

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Alex, I’m having a big party this weekend, my house, we’ve got soda, don’t tell too many people though.
Jenny, Meg said she’s having a party at her house, there’s gunna be stuff to drink.
Kayla, Alex said Meg’s having a party, drinks at her house, its gunna be huge!
Chelsea, Jenny said Alex said Meg’s having a party, she said there’ll be special drinks, and you have to tell everyone.
Hey Carly, Kayla said Jenny was told by Alex that Meg said she’s having a huge party, there’s going to be some nips, if you know what I mean
Noellen! Wait up, Kayla told Chelsea that Jenny found out Meg is having a massive get together at her house. I heard there was going to be a keg! Make sure everyone knows!
Sarah, Carly found out from Kayla and Chelsea that Jenny and Meg are throwing a rager, a crunk.
Two days later…
Meg! Wait you’re having a rager!? What? Read more »

Best of Me

By Myrrhanda Wentworth
Oxbow High School, Grade 10

She expects the best of me
It is plain to see
The bar has been raised
Hopes set high
As long as I'm happy
That's enough for her
Or so she says
But I see through her unlived dreams
Deep down I know
She is counting on me
To see the world for her
To make her proud
She expects the best of me.
I see the aspirations refusing to die
Small wildfires
Burning in her tired hazel eyes
She expects the best of me. Read more »

It's Funny

By Miranda Scott
Montpelier High School, Grade 9

It's funny how I see you.
You're better, you're stronger.
I'm weaker, a failure.

It's funny how you see me.
I'm cooler, I'm happier.
You're lonely, you're lost.

It's funny how we see the world
Differently, strangely.
It's funny how we both suffer
with envy, with hate.

By Chris Adams
Lake Region Union High School, Grade 12

It was two years ago. I enrolled in a gym over in Barton: Strong Heart Boxing was the name. Only a handful of guys were there, ranging from 14 to 23 years old. A couple friends of mine talked me into it. Reggie was the owner, Reggie Norris. He was big. Nice guy though. He talked me into doing a tournament down in Claremont, N.H. I was pretty hesitant. I really wasn’t sure if I was ready for something like that.It was winter my freshman year when I started boxing. Cold as hell and no heat in the place. All of Reggie’s equipment was in the attic over the old candlepin bowling place. Two hours a day, every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Read more »

Writer's note: I wrote this last year for school and just found it. What do you think?

By Maggie Sullivan
Milton High School, Grade 9

I sit in the cramped seat of a cafeteria table surrounded by people I’ve known for years, silently chewing. I notice, slightly, the havoc of all these students on the periphery. I wonder why so much amusement is found from playing keep-away with someone’s food, or throwing an empty bottle around that no one wants to put away, or making snide comments about every other girl in school. Read more »

By Mischa Arielle Rich
Hartford High School, Grade 11

Dear Reader,

You have just been bestowed with the potential to greatly change your life from this moment forward! You now have two options: You can either send this message to exactly 5,613 people … Or take the lazy way out and throw this away. What an opportunity! For you see, O Naive Receiver, what you do with this message will ultimately determine what course your life takes!

It’s obvious you don’t understand. Take Carla Scissorhands. She was only 20 when her best friend, Perry, sent her this "silly" chain letter. She did not take the minimal amount of time it took to find 5,613 people to send it to. Three years later … she was diagnosed with butt-cancer. It’s simply tragic. Read more »