I’m sometimes asked if I would want to go out with friends.
Or if I would like to come to this party.
Or if I would just like to hang out with people in general.
I don’t like new people
It’s nothing personal, really it isn’t
I’m socially awkward and being around new people
Physically drains me
I had to talk to new people for a day
During a music festival,
I was utterly exhausted for the rest of the night,
Because I had to go so far out of my comfort zone
Just to talk to a few new people
Unlike mostly everyone else,
Being around people isn’t exhilarating or fun for me
I prefer to be alone
I’m simply not a people person
So, I end up making an excuse
Oh, I have family stuff that day
Oh, I’m sick
Oh, my mom says that I can’t go
Contrary to popular belief,
I’m not lonely,
I just greatly prefer to BE ALONE.
And some people just don’t understand that.

We writers usually come from a pile of wet wood and a single spark.

We writers usually have to rewrite our history, our rules, our families.

We writers usually must leave behind the family we have created with our own two hands, and go out, alone, to find our own destinies.

We writers then start to climb the ladder of success, searching on each rung for something special.

And as we climb we write our lives out on ripped-out notebook paper.

Once we have found the giver of our destiny they hand us a pile of cardboard and a roll of duct tape, and with these materials we run to the hills and tell the world what we think of it.

We writers then wright ourselves a scrub brush and clean the world of all grit and grime, and while we work we sing:

Dear Earth, we shall make you more beautiful than you already are. We shall rid the world of all evil.

We writers shall rewrite the world.

 

 

Make myself a new messiah,
"Trust me," I say- they know I'm a liar;
some good old-fashioned bloodletting,
you take it back- I'm not forgetting
that time they told me I was dirty-
              dirty?
Little birdie,
far too wordy,
                      quite upsetting.
It wasn't long before it worsened,
hateful, pithy little person-
can't explain why my shows are all booked;
you say they're mad- I say they're hooked
and maybe just a little crazy-
             crazy?
Slightly lazy,
eyes are hazy
                      since I first looked.
Burn this copy; new revision-
tripping on my tunnel vision;
dark and gritty, avant-garde,
cannot swallow- much too hard
if you've ever stopped to listen-
            listen?
Twisted vixen,
pavement glistens
                              with glass shards.
The shades are drawn; the light is darkened

Look us in the eye
We'll look back if we are worth talking to.
If you just see the top of our heads
And our faces lit up by screens
Walk away.
Don't give up though.
Find another one of us who will engage with you.
Don't treat us like we're children,
listen to us as you would listen to someone you respect.
We know what we're talking about
And how to solve your problems
And we'll tell you
If you stop blaming us for what you did.
You think we're frivolous
Depressed
Distant
But we have ideas to change the world.
We are the next generation
Of leaders and thinkers
But we can't lead if you won't hand over the keys to your castle.
The castle we want to rebuild into our home.
 

There is a refuge here
For all who seek it
And for those that don’t.

The sky outside is fading
The room aglow with voices
Sympathizing, comforting
Saying that they know, they understand.

There is life in this place
A glowing candle, an illuminated door
A solace transmitted through melody and harmony.

Voices fill the air like water
Ethereal, ghostly, and beautiful
And though the light will die
The song will not.
 

There was a boy at work, 
the keyword: was. 
He quit on a Monday, mad,
mad that someone earned more
than him. 

He was mad and quit 
over 6 percent, left 
over 93 cents.

He quit because, I, 
a girl, am paid 93 cents
more than him. 

Well, maybe now he 
knows the feeling 
of the female population 
everywhere, except
we don't quit. 
We fight for
what we deserve. 
 

UPDATE: For videos of Thursday's Middle School Festival here are the links: Cold Readings (morning): https://youngwritersproject.org/node/28014; Staged Readings (afternoon): https://youngwritersproject.org/node/28025
Friday's High School Cold Readings: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/28032

Join Alexandra Contreras-Montesano (angelaweasley) for her online poetry workshop and get published in her magazine! Alex is a Burlington High School senior and the National Student Poet for the Northeast this year. As part of her work as a literary ambassador, she is offering this workshop to YWP writers and plans to create a magazine of your best writing and art! Check out the full workshop here. It runs until the end of May. You can jump in and write to any -- or all -- of the six challenges!

Write with Jennifer Cohen at Vermont Commons School: Monday, July 15th - Friday, July 19th, 9:00- 1:00; OR Monday, July 22nd  - Friday, July 26th,  9:00 - 1:00. Ages: Must be at least a rising 7th grader. Cost for one week: $300. Location: Meet at Vermont Commons School (75 Green Mountain Dr., South Burlington), but will venture outside to comfortable, inspiring places. Bring your own lunch. ABOUT THE WORKSHOP: Jennifer Cohen teaches English at Vermont Commons School in South Burlington, VT. She has taught for 27 years and has masters degrees from Harvard and the University of Washington. Of this workshop, she says: "This summer workshop will gather creative writers who will plan a week of short readings and creative writing, based on their individual interests.