"A choice," the wind whispers, echoing by
"A hope that will leave you; despair that won't die

"Reach for the stars, tread lightly on air
Or sink into the ocean, find peace in despair

"The sky has brought freedom to many a thrall,
Yet more have been abandoned, forgotten, let fall

"The sea, she will harvest your breath and your life
But her smothering arms are a blanket from strife

From this side of the glass I saw the little fish swimming. It darted in and out from behind the rock. From the other side the woman asked me if I had seen the fish and I thought for a moment and said “yes”. That was the first time I spoke to someone outside of my family… To a woman through a fish tank at the barber shop, of all places.

He just wanted to listen to a song,
but was overwhelmed by the ocean of options.
So much media floating in the oil for him to consume.  
Furrowing his brow, suffering from an overload.
The jarring lights cause his eyes to glitch.
Neon vision turns to static.
Scrolling through his feed,
seeing all the downloaded songs he hasn’t heard yet.
Each one fills his heart with pangs of guilt,
for some unknown reason.

The brainiac computer head thinks that technology can save the world.
Every problem can be solved with just the press of a button!
He scans the world and all the people in it with his cold gaze,
reducing subjective reality in to objective facts and numbers
that can be easily processed and spit back out.
Easy solutions to complex problems.
Sometimes he wonders if things are getting worse,
but he brushes this thought aside.

What am I living for?

My mind constantly analyzes this question
but it produces no results.
Am I living for the present?
No. The present is dull and mundane.
Nothing happens in the present.
Am I living for the future,
a world of possibility
that I have no control over?
The future may hold excitement,
but how can I live for something
that doesn’t exist?
Am I living for the past,
a vague dusty document,

My hand twitches
Like a snake, it slithers toward my pocket.
Looking for a flashy device
that will provide an escape from boring reality,
gulping down music, images, videos
to feed itself  
hungry for more
maybe one day it will finally
shed its skin.
My hand comes out empty.
My prey has escaped.
I feel the panic setting in.
Desperately rummaging around,
looking for a part of myself
that I have lost.

NOTE: Hi, this is the raw text of posts made between April 17 and April 21 that were "lost"  when YWP's server had to be rebuilt. We're very sorry for the intrusion and inconvenience. This was not a YWP problem but a problem with the company we are, for the moment, using to host our sites.

We asked them to supply us with the body text of all of those posts. IF YOU POSTED SOMETHING please do a "find" on the full version of this post for your username and copy and paste it into a new post.

IF YOU do that, or if you repost because you had a copy on your computer, PLEASE ADVISE US in the comments on the right. We will over this week re-post all the work, but it would be great if you can help.

THANKS!

geoff (gg)


P.S.  Unfortunately we had to delete all uploaded files because of the nature of the problem on the server. -- gg


*************************** 26. row ***************************

*************************** 27. row ***************************
title: Of Stars and Streetlamps body: The universe is upside down.
The lights of the city, so bright, so dazzling,
are below me as I float across the breeze.
The galaxy lies beneath, not overhead.
Above, the inky blackness reigns,
dripping down between the buildings,
running through the streets,
engulfing all but the brightest of lights.
Some of these lights twinkle, some stand still,
and some zoom past, hurrying off to nowhere,
like comets or shooting stars.
I make no wish.
I have nothing to wish for.
I’m in no hurry.
I have nowhere to be.
A speck of light
holds no office hours,
needs no days off,
has no strict schedule,
no schedule at all.
Unlike this city,
I am calm.
Unlike this city,
I am quiet.
All sounds are distant.
They echo within me,
yet leave no lasting effect.
I am free, floating on the breeze,
my thoughts mirroring its easy flow.
I look down at the twinkling lights beneath,
and the empty heavens above.
The stars were plucked from the sky,
and dropped inside the streetlamps.
The balance has been shifted.
The universe is upside down.   author: mythicalquill author_uid: 3657
*************************** 28. row ***************************
title: 2018 Community Leaders
body: Young Writers Project is proud to share with you the Community Leaders of this site, youngwritersproject.org.

These artists have been selected because of the energy and effort they put into this community, the quality of their work, the quality and quantity of their commenting and their expertise. We also look at the number of Community Points these users have. Most are long-time members. While we don't identify them by their real names, many of you may, by this time, know who they are and where they come from, but even if you don't know that, you know their work. They hail from around the U.S. and beyond.

You will find these leaders are active commenters, they select work for publication or for the front page, create challenges and some even actively work on special projects, online workshops and on site improvements. We are very lucky to have them. And do check out their work and give them some shine, too!

This is a rolling list. We add to it as more of you work more deeply and grow into leaders. And, yes, when some of these guys leave high school, we shift them into mentor status. HOWEVER, we encourage them to stay, to continue to post their work and to mentor others in the true sense of the word. Here is the list:
  author: gg author_uid: 2
*************************** 29. row ***************************
title: All the Little Lights body: All the little lights, 
twinkling in the city,
and I am only one.
I swirl through what seems like a million galaxies,
but I am only a speck in one.
My colors,
they bend and bring joy,
they reflect upon all who see them,
but I am only one.
I make this world a little brighter,
but I am only one. 
I have been places and seen
things that you could only ever dream of,
but I am only one.
I can tell you stories through thousands of centuries,
of lives lost, of souls healed,
of knowledge earned and knowledge lost,
of joy and anger and sadness,
of love and hate,
wisdom and foolishness,
great things and small ones,
summer days and winter nights,
the stars and the sun,
yet I am only one.
Reflect upon that.
I am only one,
one speck of light in the middle 
of billions of other ones.
The world can be a beautiful place
if you would only 
stop
and listen to the light.
#sos17
  author: Nightheart author_uid: 4201
*************************** 30. row ***************************
title: Voices for Change May 11, 2018 Event body: Young Writers Project, Muslim Girls Making Change (MGMC) & Friends are proud to present Voices for Change, a youth conference and slam poetry celebration of identity and voice with special guest artist Amir Sulaiman, renowned Muslim slam poet.

Friday, May 11, 4-9 pm
Contois Auditorium, Burlington City Hall
Burlington, VT

Free and open to all (some material might not be suitable for children under 13). Find out more at youngwritersproject.org.

DETAILS:
Opening Artists: Muslim Girls Making Change (MGMC) 
Youth Speak Out: Forum on Identity
Free Buffet Dinner
Writing and Performance Workshop with Amir Sulaiman (Check out this workshop on YouTube)
Open Mic, open to all
Amir Sulaiman Performance (8-9 pm)

Free and open to all! (Some material might not be suitable for children under 13.)

About Amir Sulaiman: 

Amir Sulaiman is a poet, recording artist, activist and newly appointed Harvard Fellow, born in Rochester, New York. His poems cross subjects of love, tragedy as well as what it means to reconcile humanity with the unprecedented trials of modernity. He has performed his works across the US as well as many other countries including England, Belgium, Senegal, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Sweden, Australia, Iran and the Netherlands, and continues to tour world-wide.  His recently published book of poetry, "Love, Gnosis & Other Suicide Attempts" met with critical acclaim, in addition to his latest album "The Opening," the third in a unique trilogy project, following "The Meccan Openings" (2011) and "The Medinan Openings" (2012).  Amir was first introduced to a National audience in 2005 when he was featured for two seasons on Russell Simmons' groundbreaking series Def Poetry Jam on HBO. author: the crow author_uid: 1
*************************** 31. row ***************************
title: Big Eye body: Big eye,
bright eye,
seeing everything.

Big eye,
bright eye,
little thing in a big city.

Big eye,
bright eye,
night and day on watch.

Such a big world compared
to a little speck of light,
but a little speck can always have a big eye.

The tops of skyscrapers
look like huge blocks to this little speck.
The people down below
look like tiny toys to this speck.

Little speck,
big world,
big city,
big eye,
seeing everything.
  author: happy_smiley author_uid: 5073
*************************** 32. row ***************************
title: State of Union body: How do you feel about the way things are going in America right now? What ticks you off? What encourages you?
Vermont High School Students, you have a special incentive: Sen. Bernie Sanders invites you to write a 250-500 word essay focusing on what you believe are the major challenges facing the nation and how to solve them. Go to www.sanders.senate.gov/stateoftheunion to submit your essay. The deadline is Jan. 10, 2018.

Find me in the earth,
Find me in the sea,
Find me in these broken chains that slowly ruin me.

And when you do the lost will be replaced.
A new beginning
And drowning thoughts to face.

Found in silent speech
Where only song remains,
A note, a beat, a treasure lost to time.

A harmony I’ll never hear again.
A melody that you could never find.

And tap, tap, tapping hands,
And dance, dance, dancing feet,

Before our Socratic Seminar

My teacher told me and one other student

We should try to contribute more.

Talk more.

“Yeah, I will,” I say,

But my mind is saying something else.

My mind is begging him to understand,

I can’t.

I’m sick.

I don’t talk because 

If I do

I’ll suffocate for the rest of class,

Slide in and out of consciousness,