"Midnight Mountains" by Trinity DeMasi, submitted by abartell, Danville School. Submit your photos and art to be featured here!

 

The Daily Read

Feb 19

Stranger.

I've lost track of who you were
somewhere along the way
I was able to forget your existence.
That makes me happy
most days.
Earth is spinning faster
my sky moves south of yours
even the air is thicker
where I am.
It's interesting how strangers 
can feel more real than memories.
I walk through full streets 
and empty conversations 
but I never stop to question
if I lost you.
Some things don't require an answer.
The noise around me helps drown out
the noise within me
and lately, it is the chaos that keeps me alive.
You would hate it here.
I like that.
Nights still make me care for you
but I've learned that I can't miss someone
I don't even know. 
 
Feb 18

The Mountain

She is the mother.
The mother of all the trees,
Animals and ponds
Around her.
The soft-furred rabbit,
And the sweet-smelling flowers,
Are all her children.
She holds them in her strong, 
Caring arms.
She looks after them,
Nurtures and cares for them.
These are her children,
And she loves them
Even after they are gone.
She knows she may be
The only one who cares.
The only who will save them
When the humans come.

 

Recent Daily Reads

Feb 17
fiction 2 comments challenge: Lost
mythicalquill's picture

Parabox

    You’re not sure why you’re here. There has to be a reason, doesn’t there? People don’t just show up places, especially not sparse, quaint little studies with a single desk and tinted windows.

    You look around. It’s nice, you suppose, in a quiet sort of way. There’s a box on the desk, about the size of a bread loaf—was it there a moment ago? Thick oak wood with a polished sheen, silver latch that beckons to be opened. You obey, of course, flicking up the metal and lifting the lid.

    Nestled inside, amidst the crushed-velvet interior, your fingers brush up against another box. It looks to be identical, save for being a fraction of the size. You take it out, open it, and feel a sting of déjà vu as more polished wood comes into sight.
Feb 17
jparker's picture

Beautiful


Her tail was a magnificent shade of orange tipped with just the right amount of white.  

She tended her pups so gently that even the slightest scratch would leave them weeping.

Her snout was an attractive white.

Her eyes were black as midnight.

Her ears would twitch to any sound.

This lovely mother fox should be considered an angel that has come down to the earth.

Her kindness was her beauty.

She was beautiful but in a different sort of way.

(By Leona Smith)
 
Feb 14
mangarp's picture

Forever Young

Our hair’s white with grey stripes, but we are still young.

All of our 32nd teeth are gone, but we are still young.

Our grandchildren call us “Grandpa and Grandma”, but we are still young.

Our veins sticks out when someone greets us, but we are still young.

No one can take away our youth from us.

There’s still some time left before the memories we made together slowly fade away.

The family we’ve created together.

Together we build a never-ending-ladder to reach the bright stars.

We are forever young.
 
Feb 12

Security


Airports feel like slipping
beneath security lines and
constantly losing purchase on people.

Darting over connected seats to glass windows,
everywhere is somewhere to watch you leave.

Finding which plane to track
gets difficult as
horizons blur
into shapes of you.

Just another few years to
kill waiting for you in the
lobby of departures.

Maybe next time you’ll get me a
new apology from the airport gift shop. I keep the last
one with me at night
pretending I’m still the child you bought it for. Sometimes I
question if you
remember me.

Sometimes I question if I lost you in
the sky or if it was on the
underground train to terminal C. I don’t remember
very well. But I can’t seem to forget

why we say goodbye in front of the full body
x-ray machine. I always hope the security line is long because
Feb 12
Eragon321's picture

what i'm thinking

Do
you
want
to
know
who
the
most
beautiful
person 
in 
the 
world
is?
If you do, read the second word.
 
Feb 11
rubinl's picture

In a different sort of way


When she looked at you, her eyes would sparkle in a full-of-magic way

When you looked at her clothes, they were ripped, dirty, and looked like rags

When she laughed, she filled you with an overflowing sensation of pure joy

When you saw her walk home, she went to a box in the park

When she listened to you, her face reflected all the right emotions

When you offered that she stay with you until she got a job, she laughed and walked away

When she was walking away, she called,

“I already have everything I need”

She was beautiful, but in a different sort of way
 

Thanks for all your support!

Dec 07
YWP's picture

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YWP News

Jul 30

Community Leaders' Newsletter

Dec 10

Write with Alex this Saturday!

Photo credit: Karma Bird House

Exploring Poetry with YWP's Alexandra Contreras-Montesano, THIS SATURDAY, FEB. 23! Sign up today! Reminder: Killer College Essay has been rescheduled to March 26. Writing on the Roof is YWP's series of writing workshops in the rooftop conference room of the Karma Bird House (YWP's  home base). Read more for details.

 

Writing contest: $$$ prizes

Jan 22

Invasive

Recent comments

Weekly Challenges

Aug 03

Beautiful

Begin or end a poem or story with the phrase, “She was beautiful, but in a different sort of way.”
[YWP Photo Library, photo by Shannon Ripp]
Aug 03

Alert

An official phone alert wakes you up from a deep sleep. It says, "We are under attack. Lock your doors and bar your windows." Hundreds of random numbers are sending, "Let me in." Write a short, fast-paced story to match the urgency of the situation.
[YWP Photo Library, photo by Samantha Aikman]
 
Jan 09

Post Your Art & Photos!

YWP is looking for your visual art -- photographs and scanned art -- to be featured in our monthly magazine, The Voice, on the front page of the site, the newspaper series, and the Anthology! Respond to this challenge and post your best photos and art!

 
Feb 15

New Yorker Poetry Editor comes to VT

Kevin Young, poet, poetry editor of The New Yorker, and director of the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture at New York Public Libraries, is giving a free lecture, open to the public, at the Davis Center at UVM on Thursday, Feb. 21 at 4 pm. Find out more!