Daily Read | Page 2 | Young Writers Project

Aug 27

Marina2020

Brand New Friend

I always have trouble talking to a stranger
It's something that's just not in my nature
But this is a new school and new year
Might as well try, I have nothing to fear
So I got the courage to ask him his name
Then I saw the book in his hand and knew we were the same
We shared our interests on various books and stories
finding out that we love the same categories
And before I could think and comprehend
I ended up having a brand new friend

Posted: 08.27.19

Aug 24

poem 1 comment

charvermont

The Middle Zone

Summer is coming to its final pages, and
I'm stuck in this in-between place
where my brain is telling me to
keep walking along this straight line,
never looking back,
while my heart thinks I should
stay right here, in August,
and never face forward.

This middle zone has me wanting those
fat, heavy tears to fall
down the sides of my face –
the never-ending kind that makes
my cheeks hot & my mouth as dry as sand.

I wish I never came to the middle zone.

Posted: 08.24.19

Aug 24

visual 2 comments challenge: CJP-Photo Essay2

sophie.d

The Good Thoughts Story

1. Good Thoughts started as an idea for my senior project. It was quite a bit ambitious and very unconventional but exciting nonetheless. YWP support of the project made it a reality!

2. Thank you to all of you incredible writers for sharing your stories. Your unique voices were the inspiration behind this project. This square was created during a workshop Susan Reid and I led at King Street.

3. I had the goal of 100 squares. We far surpassed that... with over 150 including the King Street squares! This square I tied at the top of Camel's Hump at sunrise. The 2am wakeup was worth it.

4. A few of the squares I reserved for the place that inspired the words. The past two summers, I've worked in a biomedical research lab. Each morning, I go to the ice room to get an ice bucket for my samples. This square is taped to the ice machine as an everyday reminder to be curious.

Posted: 08.24.19

Aug 23

poem 2 comments

irishjayne

back in Vermont for the last handful of August

queen of the field once again, I return triumphant.
I want to live
in the place where leaves come from,
where the raspberries
are born on the bush,
the space between
impossibility and abundance.
blueberry stained dress from lying in the sun,
not a care in the world:
I eat a plum by the fire pond
in six bites.
clung to by grass and no one else,
being somewhat let go has not left me feeling freedom-
my independence has come
from being very fiercely loved,
if only by myself and the clouds.

and, oh, there are so many clouds.

Posted: 08.23.19

Aug 22

poem 1 comment

NAW793

Summer Days

Summer days are long gone
The sun is fading away
Dreadful school is getting closer
Closer every day

I did my summer writing
And my summer reading too
But when I go back to school
I start feeling kind of blue

Goodbye, Summer!

Posted: 08.22.19

Aug 21

poem 2 comments

BloodMoon825

losing us

swimming
in a glass
half empty.
and i’m losing you.

the space between us
growing ever more
apart.

but
as i lose you
i lose myself.

and i can’t touch
i
can’t feel
how i
loved you.

it seems so
far away now.

how it felt
to be in sync
with every heartbeat.

but now
i’m just trying to remember how it felt
to have a heartbeat.

i can see
your figure
blurred
around the edges.

but your eyes
deep,
deep hazel,

and your hands,
quivering,
trying to feel
anything
again.

it feels
real,
what i see
but
i can’t touch it.

it’s not really
you.

i’m losing us.

mere ghosts
in
a story
that will never
retell
itself.

Posted: 08.21.19

Aug 20

poem 0 comments

Dana1357

High School: The New and the Unknown

The New and the Unknown are two things that are related.
I don't quite know why but this is something I have always known.
I start my first year of highschool in two weeks.
Highschool is both new and filled with the unknown.
New is something that is refreshing and good.
New friends,
New classes,
New experiences.
But the unknown,
is terrifying and fueled by my insecurities
Will I be liked?
Will my friends sit with me in lunch?
What if I don't have the right brand of shoes?
What if I answer a question wrong?
What if I get blamed for something not my fault?
The new, is just that,
New.
But the unknown,
is scary...
To me at least

(Sorry if it doesn't make sense, I wrote it on a whim about my two main feelings for the new and unknown that reside within the walls of high school)

Posted: 08.20.19

Aug 17

poem 6 comments

nean_bean

Oh, The Places We'll Go

1. The crash of waves on a hidden beach somewhere lost in France. The cliffs rising high around us, so much so they appear to touch the clouds. The sky clear, a mirror of the forever ocean in front of us. The waves taste of salt and possibility, and the air smells fresh and sweet. And fishy.

2. A rocky scrabble. A final climb to the top of Africa. A pounding in my veins, of the altitude and the oxygen. A bead of sweat, stealthy climbing down your forehead. We stand straight, for the first time in hours. Still. Swaying like the grasses so far below, and the waves on a hidden beach. Our breathing slows. And the world goes on. And on.

Posted: 08.17.19

Aug 16

poem 0 comments

The-Unknown-Poet

Alive

The sound of faltering footsteps in the darkness, the runner wheezing with laughter. Meteors whizzing through the night sky, reminding us of how big the universe is. Crickets and cicadas, buzzing, chirping, making noise, creatures smaller than us, their lives even more delicate. The creaking swings, with talking, giggling children perched upon them. Lights on, game night until you're barely awake. Bug bites, itch itch itch. A little breeze, winding its way around until it feels like a miniature tornado of frigid air. Candy, chomped and chewed until the sugar is long gone, packages lying empty. BINGO! Prize claimed and shared at the table, spiraling us into sugar highs. Summer, surrounding me until it's what I eat, drink, and breathe. Everything, coming together to prove to me that I'm really living. Not just living. Alive.

Posted: 08.16.19

Aug 14

non-fiction 11 comments

foxgirlforever112

Sexuality

I'm a lesbian, and I'm proud of it. I'm also a christian, in fact my dad is a pastor. It's a very difficult thing to be part of the LGBTQIA community while in a very christian family. My family loves me and accepts me. I believe that love is love and it doesn't matter what gender you love. I also find that it's funny how christians say that being gay is a sin while they also believe that God created humans to be exactly how they are. Some people disagree with the "decision" to be gay. It's not a decision or a lifestyle. Maybe for some people it is a lifestyle, but not me. It's just how I was made and how the many other people in the LGBTQIA community were made. It's completely okay to be gay.

Posted: 08.14.19

Aug 14

poem 2 comments

Icarus Blackmore

I wonder

I wonder,
Who scans the news
for word of another
shooting?
Who waits with bated
breath for news of the
injured,
and tallies of the dead?
Who steps out onto the lawn,
well before town
and city stir,
to lower the flag.

And who,
who raises it once more?

Posted: 08.14.19

Aug 12

non-fiction 1 comment challenge: Grades

lmnoyes

Grade

When given the word Grade I think of a number, a letter, or an amount of points. And after every year we tally them up. I think of the pressure and fear, knowing that this one test could make or break your grade. The grade you get on it is a depiction on how smart you are.

     But many factors go into taking a test. It's not that you don't know the material, it's that even if you study your butt off and took notes and paid close attention to the topic in class, you still get "test anxiety". Instead of the knowledge that you have shining through, the stress keeps it hidden.

    I think the idea of a grade is fine, it's just how we get it that is my issue.

Posted: 08.12.19

Aug 12

poem 5 comments challenge: Ferocity

Treblemaker

A Sense of Thunder

Gupitty gup went the rain in the drain.
Doinkety doinkity dunk.
Plunkity plunk went the gutters again
It spluttered and muttered and plunked.
Then came the light which I saw in the sky
Zapping and splatting and crinkling high.
It zigzagged and flashed and crinkled so fast
It snaked up with vigor, it sounded at last.
Grumble kaBOOOM went the thunder too soon
Drumming and drumming kaBAM.
Grumble then mumble and tumble it went,
Then it started all over again.

Posted: 08.12.19

Aug 09

poem 0 comments

Flowerdragon

Rush

Why do we look back
and not forward?
If life is a train
we're just all waiting to be run down.
standing in the tracks,
raising our arms,
only thinking about where we are positioned.
Time moves much slower
if we are taking it in
and not taking it for granted.
Days fly by,
little shards of regret and anxiety cut our thin, fragile bodies
we are not as strong as we think.
Being human does not mean we always know the answer.
It means we think we know where to turn,
and if sometimes we run into a dead end
at least we learned something.
If one thing is constant,
it's that we are built to run.
Built to flow rapidly, like the water in a harsh, loud river.
Built to fly, swoop and dive like the great birds of the sky,
Built to always be on the move.
Humanity is a beautiful thing,
not because of the angry, ignorant people that make it up,

Posted: 08.09.19

Aug 09

audio 2 comments

My Perpetual We...

One Thousand Days and Counting

One Thousand Days and Counting.mp3

Enjoy...

(1st verse)
White noise, check your conscience here
She said in space there's no room for fear
She kept a picture by the door
To remind her of the way things were before

(2nd verse)
"Houston, I'm never coming down
I'd rather watch the world keep turning 'round
Up here it's just my rocketship and me
And you can't cry in zero gravity
She knows there's nothing for her there
As she sits up there breathing prepackaged air
She hates the feel of solid ground
Up here she's a queen without a crown

(pre-chorus)
Who the hell do you think you are?
Caught between Planet Earth and the local star
You better love it up there, sitting all alone
You're one thousand days and counting and you're still not coming home

(Chorus)
Just a sailor without a sea
A starspun curiosity
I've lost control

(3rd verse)

Audio download:

One Thousand Days and Counting.mp3

Posted: 08.09.19

Aug 07

poem 0 comments

charvermont

Under A Rainstorm

ADailyReadLogo.jpg

The sound of a rainstorm hitting
my roof is the humid
scent of tomorrow morning's flowers.

A rainstorm composes its own song,
stringing together a different melody
each minute -
never completely sure of which way to go
(lower or higher).

Rainstorms are dewdrops on
the deep green leaves and
soaked tree trunks.

Under a rainstorm,
things feel new.

Posted: 08.07.19

Aug 05

poem 4 comments

Eloise Silver V...

My Desires

Here is what I know:
When I feel something personal and meaningful,
my belly bubbles up inside
My mind begins to expand
and explore,
pondering future possibilities.
I become ensure of what to do with the swirling
and my flushed cheeks––
all my past knowings are turned to
grains of salt
and I begin to consider all of the other perspectives.

That is how I want to feel every day.

I want my perceived ideas to be challenged
and my ideals to be questioned.
I want to wonder why I think what I think
and why you think what you think.

I should be curious about all things:
How the happenings in my small community reflect those of a larger state.
Why certain pigments look so incredibly pleasing together.
Why the vision of the earth which nurtures all life is so surreal.
Why I have been conditioned to view unnatural even harmful things as beautiful.

Posted: 08.05.19

Aug 03

poem 1 comment challenge: Legacy

Icestorm

the persistence of memory

legacy.

on my notebook, nestled in the corner
among glued-on stars, are the words
second law of thermodynamics.

it means, literally, that entropy always increases.
it implies that one day, the very last star will run out of
nuclear fuel and everything, anything,
will cease to exist.

i chose to have those words there as a
reminder of my impermanence.
that simple scientific law
turns the pages back to sun-drinking trees in my hands, my
hands back to dust.

what i’m trying to say is i don’t need a legacy.

i don’t need my name up in lights.
but i would like it in the wind and seasalt and dandelions, so
burn me when i die.

i don’t need my name to go down in history.
the infinity before and the infinity after anyone said it
will all be the same to me.

legacy.
what a distracting concept.

Posted: 08.03.19

Jul 31

poem 2 comments

Love to write

Tuesday Morning: Kitchen Contemplations

There is always time in the morning
between galaxies
and orange juice.

If you had a jar with a lid
you would try to save it,
give it to the girl
with the parted lips
and the eyes that crinkle.

You’re not sure what to make
of half -built cities
except that when they haunt you
in your dreams the streets overflow with possibility
and the rooftop ridgelines are hunched,
bent at the hip,
against the skyline.

You’re a cake still soft in the middle:
both raw
and burnt
and never giving up.

Posted: 07.31.19

Jul 30

poem 0 comments

PeachesMalone

A Love Letter to the City that Never Sleeps

New York is
Something that can't be repeated, copied, replaced
There's something about the concrete jungle that is only there and nowhere else
The scent
Of sweltering city in the summer

The garbage
The heat
The cheap perfume
The concrete
The sewage
The food carts
The soapy smell that appears no matter what the neighborhood
The pizza
The exhaust
The gasoline
The grass of Central Park
The new clothes

The ecstacy of the ferry ride
The blisters that don't seem to bother you anymore because you're here
In the city that never sleeps
The subway
Where you find people asking for money and business men and women wearing expensive suits
The smell of the subway
Hot and musty and full of old forgotten things
The hotels with door holders that look bored
The carpets that stretch to the sidewalk but never look dirty

Posted: 07.30.19

Brand New Friend

The Middle Zone

The Good Thoughts Story

back in Vermont for the last handful of August

Summer Days

losing us

High School: The New and the Unknown

Oh, The Places We'll Go

Alive

Sexuality

I wonder

Grade

A Sense of Thunder

Rush

One Thousand Days and Counting

Audio download:

Under A Rainstorm

ADailyReadLogo.jpg

My Desires

the persistence of memory

Tuesday Morning: Kitchen Contemplations

A Love Letter to the City that Never Sleeps

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