YWP Newsletter – 4/1/21
Happy April! Enjoy this month's writing, photos, and art by the YWP community! Every month, a member of YWP's newsletter team creates this newsletter to recognize and appreciate all the talented people on this website! Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the writing and art to bring even more recognition to YWP's writers and artists! YOU CAN READ ALL COMMUNITY LEADERS' NEWSLETTERS HERE.
Writers and artists featured this month include: Sophiaecho, Vicarious, GreyBean, Maria, laurenm, Inkpaw
YWP News:
Did you see that Line Break is celebrating one year of podcasts? Congratulations, eyesofIris!
Don't miss the next writing opportunity with Reuben Jackson and Alex Muck on April 9th! Sign up here.
Have you been to one of YWP's open mics yet? Next one is Saturday, April 24th! More info and sign up here.
YWP Book Club meets online on Wednesday, April 28th. Join charvermont to talk about books!
Do you receive the YWP Newsletter each month? If not, subscribe here!
She hoards little bottles of
perfumes
on the shelves of her kitchen,
each drowning in its own scent—
cinnamon, mint, tulip, basil, berry.
Her sets of blue and white china
are stored in dusty
brown cabinets with windows
you can barely see through.
All the mirrors in her house
are cracked,
only held together
by tape.
She keeps rows and rows of
Mason jars
in crates in her basement,
each containing a song
no one can hear.
She only has photos of maps in her house—
places she wants to go,
not places she’s been,
not people she’s seen.
She’s a dreamer
in that sense.
Her keys to the house are held together
by a navy blue ribbon,
frayed and tattered.
She wakes up every night
at 12 o’clock
to make herself a warm cup of
herbal tea.
I know this because she
calls me
every night
at 12 o’clock
as she makes herself a warm up of
herbal tea.
She collects bent nails,
keeps them in a little box
under a lamp in the living room.
She listens to the music of the wind
at dawn, dusk, twilight, midnight.
Stars are not balls of gas to her.
She can slice the moon into
shards of shaved ice,
if she wants.
She creates languages for fun,
she writes stories of her life
no one understands,
she reads books upside down
and she cracks her records in half
so they will fit inside her suitcase.
She’s a dreamer
in that sense.
[Photo credit: From "Lake and Sky" by Vicarious]
If it is merely the words I say
Then I will say them all
In no particular order
Without rhyme
Nor reason.
If it is merely the actions I portray
Will you trust them then?
The words I order
The promises I construct
Will you believe me then
See for your own eyes that I can do it
Complete it
Follow through
Trust is malleable
It is fickle
Yet deserving.
It is wanted,
Strived for
Given with penance.
It is earned through repetitive action
Consistent care
The presence of just being there.
It is in what you do
What you say
How often you follow through.
Because in the end,
I am merely the words I speak,
The actions that I seek.
[Photo credit: From "Green's Different Personas" by Sophiaecho]
broken blue
shattered porcelain scattering across the floor
some relationships are more fragile than the finest glass
and some are sweet words encapsulated in a reliable see-through bottle
thrown into the unpredictable waves of day to day life
and coming back just as kind
all of them blue
light blue that coats my tongue with the taste of spring
fluffy clouds and the smell of cotton candy
light blue like fake smiles hiding anxiety and the knowledge
that the words won't fall from my lips the way I want them to
the way the sky looks at me as if wondering why I can't be happy yet
green blue
seaweed swaying in the cold Maine ocean water
crabs scuttle through my memories
of the cold water I threw myself into lovingly, only to run out of, laughing from the chill
it seems every day I grow older
I find myself desiring to go back in time even more
back to navy blue
the smell of bleach and feel of jeans against my knees
each tiny branch of ice on a single snowflake
caught on the eyelashes of a small boy
who didn't know who he was yet
blue like the worn-down crayon
that still lives in the bottom of my backpack
blue like bubbles and sad-happy music
blue on Sundays underneath clear skies
and blue on Thursdays when it rains
blue on the bad days when I cry more than I laugh
and blue on the good days when I can smile
and feel as free as the birds.
[Photo credit: From "Insert Title Here" by laurenm]
Does anyone else get nervous doing those ‘I am not a robot’ checks? Like... what if I’m secretly a robot?!
- dogpoet
- Crescent_Moon
Ha! What if I did bring a large container of liquid, I just don't remember?? XD
- Treblemaker
Not for robots, but sometimes for Covid: "what if my head does hurt?"
- TreePupWriter
Lol! I can relate 'What if I accidently didn't quarantine for two weeks?!'
- Treblemaker
YWP Newsletter – 3/7/21
Wow! It's already March, YWP! It's been a year since quarantine started, which is so wild! Make sure you are taking care of yourself and trying to find ways to stay happy, even though it's really hard to do at times. This newsletter includes fabulous writing, images, and work from members of the YWP community. As the editors of this newsletter, our role is to bring you, authors and artists, extra audience and shine, and to bring you, readers, some very special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the writing and art to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
Writers and artists featured in this newsletter: PDubuque, ivy_parks, TreePupWriter, maya, cedar, laurenm, Alden Bond, Frostbite, and IceGalaxy.
YWP News:
This month's Book Club pick is A Mango-Shaped Space! Join the book club to talk about wonderful books like this!
Take a pause and listen to Episode 32 of Line Break!
All Middle Schoolers! Join happydancer on March 14th for a Middle School Poetry Workshop!
Join eyesofIris and Yellow Sweater for another Oh Snap! Online Open Mic on March 27th!
a poem about atoms (and other things)stability.
balance.
these are the things we
are taught to search for in
the world.
every living creature, every
organism is living in
want for those things.
an atom wants to have
a neutral charge,
and humans want a nice
house at the end
of the cul-de-sac.
how must we look to other
species? spending a lifetime
searching for something
to make us just the same
as the rest.
they say "you'll understand
when you are older", but
i don't want to understand.
is that so hard to imagine?
my science teacher told me
that everything wants to be
balanced.
an atom doesn't want
a positive or negative charge.
a human doesn't want spontaneity,
they want a good life,
a boring life lived out
in the most boring town
they can find because
it keeps them safe.
they stay on the road,
they paint the picture they
are told to because
it keeps everything the same,
it keeps the cycle going.
and when someone doesn't
listen, when they drive off
of the road, when they put
the paintbrush down, asking
for a reason to keep
going, we pity them, we call
it a tragedy.
how could they have gone wrong?
how doyou mess it up
when everything is layed out
in front of you?
it's easier to be normal.
it's easier to be normal,
they tell us.
and it's true.
it has always been so much
easier to pretend that
we want that life.
it doesn't exhaust you to
live the same life
that millions before you
have lived as well.
it's easier to stare out of
the window and imagine all
the things you could have
done instead of doing them.
i want it to be easier.
[Photo credit: "Just waitin' around," by cedar]
Swallow your pride
(but don't let it scorch your tongue)
the best cook knows how to be tiny
curl up and trade secrets with a peppercorn
sometimes the key is
shrinking your judgment while
growing your heart
become a liquid
take the shape of someone else's container
learn to love the nooks and crannies
of their soul
as for icebreakers:
rapping small talk against the surface
makes a nice-sounding crackle
but sometimes you have to
dive deep into freezing water
and shiver through another's worries
polar bears have feelings too
and pass notes
(when no one's looking)
(and also when the whole world stares)
be proud about it
fold love into
paper cranes and
love into fortune tellers
open your mind so you can
open every flap:
you will make
a friend.
[Photo credit: "Fragments," by laurenm]
Do you remember,
When life was peaceful
And lightning struck
Or when you and I slept
Life has changed
From love to pain
But we are still together
Do you remember,
The time, when you and I
Would sing songs by the fire
Or when we would be
The only three
With love and peace
Together
Do you remember,
When we smashed a cake
In our face
When we celebrated our birth
Or when you and I
Would say goodbye
And move on
Further
Do you remember,
When our hearts would sink
With love and might
Buried underneath
They would cry
With love for life
And never see us again
Remember now,
In the heavens
Where we can be together
Life has changed
From pain to love
And you and I
Have found each other
[Photo credit: "Rainfall watercolor," by Alden Bond.
YWP Newsletter- 2/6/21
Happy February, YWP!
I hope you’ve all had a chill start to 2021. It’s important to take time to create writing or art that you’re proud of, and to congratulate yourself on all you’ve accomplished. Huzzah for making it through the first month of the year! Even when the winter is dark and dreary, you can always come to YWP to enjoy writing and art.
This newsletter features writing, audio, images, and any happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, and Recommend work for publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you, authors and artists, extra audience and shine, and to bring you, readers, some very special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the writing and art to bring the authors even more viewers.
Enjoy!
Writers and artists featured in this newsletter: laurenm, gaia_lenox, GreyBean, MadsPads.3411, Moonsand, cedar, Ice Blink, Treblemaker, and IceGalaxy.
YWP News:
Join eyesofiris and Yellow Sweater for another Oh Snap! Online Open Mic on February 27 here!
Take a pause and listen to Episode 30, Part 2 of Line Break here!
This month’s Book Club pick is Pride and Prejudice! Read more about the book club here!
Check out the February issue of The Voice here!
READ ALL THE NEWSLETTERS HERE!
Photo credit above: Same Time Next Year...Right Here by laurenm
by gaia_lenox
i wish so badly to be
ethereal
a specific type of beauty
defined by silk sheets
and a mysterious expressions
but instead i am
waking up with bloody noses
and forgetting to put the caps
back on tubes of tooth paste
and the place in my tongue
that used to be laced with gold
is now covered
in scribbled calculus
notes
that i spit out
along with a question as to where
you parked the car
and you are telling me
to trust you
and I am saying that
i have trusted no one
since a branch broke under my feet
and i fell to the ground
and you are saying
please go to sleep
and I am saying that the color
of room is no longer
beautiful
and you are saying lovely things
and I am getting
the paint cans
Photo credit: Swirl by Ice Blink
by GreyBean
We've never been to this park before. I've never heard of it before. We sit in an isolated, slightly shady cement area with tables. Behind us is a dark wood fence, with ivy crawling up its boards and pine needles drowning in its depths. Tall pine trees line the perimeter of the park, from where we are to the edge of the large field that seems to go on forever. There's a play-set, swing-set, and sand box a bit further past us.
The sky's clear. There are no clouds, just endless blue.
It's a bit chilly, with a light breeze blowing through the park. My sisters, parents, and I are sitting at one of the tables, while my grandpa is sitting at the other. My grandmother, in her wheelchair, is at the edge of his table.
She's bundled up in a heap of blankets, with gloves and a scarf and wool socks and a hat. My grandpa hands her his phone, from which German music is playing. As her eyes travel across the playground, I wonder what she's thinking about. Is she even thinking about anything?
Of course she is. The human mind shouldn't be empty. It shouldn't be missing important links. It shouldn't let you not be able to talk in the language your family understands. It shouldn't be able to not connect the faces of people you love to your recognition of them. I'm her sister's daughter one day, her neighbor another.
I wonder if she's thinking about Germany, about when she was a little girl growing up during World War II. I wonder if she's thinking about the time her brother's eye got blown out by a grenade. I wonder if she's thinking about when she heard her older brother was killed. I wonder if she's thinking about how much she hated that goat that seemed to chase her to the barn that one day. I wonder if she's thinking about the dancing club where she met my grandpa. I wonder if she's thinking about the days my uncle, other uncle, and mom were born. I wonder if she's thinking about the days my sisters and I were born.
I miss her voice.
I miss her hugs.
I miss her stubbornness and grit.
I miss seeing her cook in the kitchen with my mom.
I miss her making my mom smile instead of cry.
I miss her being able to have a real conversation with me.
I miss her mac and cheese.
I miss how once she got mad at my little sister for spilling milk at the dinner table.
I miss the life that used to flow through her veins and be shown so clearly in her actions.
I miss her.
"My angels," my grandpa says, gazing at me and my sisters in turn.
I look at my grandmother, at her chestnut brown eyes mindfully taking in her surroundings. I feel the quiet air around her, calm and peaceful. I want to believe that she's here with us, but is she really?
Even though her hair isn't gold, even though she's not wearing white, even though she doesn't have a halo or wings, she looks like an angel.
Yes, I think. Yes, she is an angel.
Photo credit: Silhouette by Moonsand
by MadsPads.3411
Salt and honey
They don't mix, I know that now
Silky sweet with crystal dry
I'm sorry for thinking we would work
Salt and honey
Your sugary tendrils made me dissolve
Now I am nothing, you leave me alone
I wish I could forget you
I wish we never met
Photo credit: Cactus by cedar
more random questions!!!
1. favorite movie of all time
2. favorite outfit down to the exact detail
3. food you'd eat all day
4. favorite project in school
5. summer or winter and why
6. three things that have kept you sane in 2020
-IceGalaxy
Ok so maybe this is just me but...exploring any other writing website besides ywp
is like walking into the wrong classroom where you don't know any of the students.
And you're all learning the same thing but they teach it so differently.
And you try to find, say, a piece of lined paper but everything is so out of place
you get a card bored box instead and then you just kinda slowly
back through the door again and sprint back to the welcoming
beanbag chairs and maple ice cream of ywp XD
- Treblemaker
YWP Newsletter-1/1/21
Hi Everyone! Welcome to the January Newsletter!
As we move into this new year, and hopefully near the end of the pandemic, remember to pause and take a breath. We made it this far, and now 2021 is (finally) here! As the holiday season comes to an end, it is still so important to stay healthy and safe, and that includes giving yourself a break from the hectic events of life every once in a while. So I invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the amazing writing and art YWP members continue to create and share.
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images and any happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, Recommended, and work for Publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you, authors and artists, extra audience and shine, and to bring you, readers, some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the stories to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
Writers and artists featured in this newsletter: Ezra M-S, Yellow Sweater, Eloise Silver Van Meter, NiñaEstrella, Vicarious, Batman, Cedar, IceQueen, and infinetlyinfinite3.
YWP News:
Join eyesofiris and Yellow Sweater for another awesome Oh Snap! virtual open mic here!
Check out episode 28 of Line Break here!
Join poet Reuben Jackson and teaching artist Alex Muck for a fun writing salon here!
This month's Book Club pick is Black is the Body. More here!
READ ALL THE NEWSLETTERS HERE!
Photo Credit above: Birds of No Color by Ezra M-S
by Yellow Sweater
I build cities from dancing ribbons,
breathing wind into the tiles of recollection and imagination:
cold bricks, warm clay, wet lips.
I want to be Marco Polo,
to map my memories with extraordinary facts.
The silk road was a solid delineation,
a moving line of moments.
Nonfiction is Nonsense. Nonsense is Nonlinear.
A narrative flows like silk, like a road, like a city:
cold bricks, warm clay, wet lips.
Photo Credit: With Love by Eloise Silver Van Meter
by NiñaEstrella
because I like the idea of being a queen,
grapevines twisting around my heart,
southern noons painted in pointalism,
beauteous con artists bringing me briny gold
and sand that I trailed over my checkered marble.
and if I ask take me out to the middle of the sea
so my petticoats float around me, as a jellyfish would sting, I scream into the salt.
because when the rain falls it's a queen's bath,
drops evolving into wet petals when they hit the heat soaked gravel
queens don't ask to wear shoes.
evenings covered up in veils that cloud me in confection.
4:30 am dances on balconies, twirling and teetering and tipping towards the weeds.
mid-day heat steaming through the floor of my white leather car.
open the windows and breathe until there's too much bay air in my lungs,
like sails billowing with whomping breezes.
the harbor is my home.
queens don't ask to walk on water.
they just do.
Photo Credit: Lake Champlain by Vicarious
by Batman
Poetry
which sits,
on the lips of flowers,
on the tongue of a hummingbird.
Poetry
which wanders,
through a field of yellow dresses,
through a forest of tangled hair.
Poetry
which slips,
between drunken pages,
between the sheets of a baby's cradle.
Poetry
which calls,
through a haze of anger,
to a lover's sleeping ears.
And poetry
which falls,
through the cracks of the city,
through the window of a man,
who sleeps, eyes open.
and finally
falls from the mouth,
of a child left, waking.
Photo Credit: Millard Nullings by Cedar
Has anyone ever wondered why "abbreviation" is such a long word?
- IceQueen
Masks, people. It’s not that hard.
Thank you, that was my TED talk.
- infinetlyinfinite3
YWP Newsletter 12/3/20
Hi Everybody! Welcome to the December Newsletter!
Woah. It's been quite the year, but we made it! Being stuck in a pandemic during the holiday season won't be easy, but we can make it work. Send letters to your loved ones that you cannot see, take advantage of your newly formed zoom skills, and most importantly stay safe. Happy Holidays! Happy December! (:
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images and any happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, Recommended, and work for Publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you, authors and artists, extra audience and shine, and to bring you, readers, some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the stories to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
Writers and Artists: Dancer, Scarry Night, beautiful, Lucylemon, Ice Blink, cedar, Treblemaker, and Crescent_Moon
YWP News:
YWP Book Club's December pick here!
Check out Line Break Episode 26 here!
Join eyesofiris and Yellow Sweater for Oh Snap! YWP's virtual open mic night here!
Let's Hope it Stays
By Scarry Night
Many times,
I have taken a look
out of my living room window.
Just a simple glance.
And what I keep seeing,
keep watching,
is the snow.
The white spots of
winter,
of cold,
that dot the sky.
I will watch them in awe and
go to sleep that night with
happy thoughts,
marvelous thoughts.
But then the next morning,
as I jump off my bed
and race to the glass,
watching my breath fog up
in front of me,
I see no white,
I see no crystals of ice.
Instead,
I see dull grass,
with leaves of brown
scattered around.
It isn't that the world around me is dull,
it is simply that I
love the white,
I love the cold,
the coziness of a blanket wrapped
around me,
the tastiness of the cocoa on my tongue.
But I see no snow.
I see no ice.
And it is now December,
the month of snow,
of cheers,
of songs,
of family.
So while I now watch more snow coat the ground,
I can only hope for one single thing.
Let's hope it stays!
Photo Credit: Snowy Trees by beautiful
Skyward,
Dive,
Around!
Life is a roller Coaster
It has its ups and downs
Starts slow
Builds up to the big peak
Shoots down
Then inches to a stop.
Will you enjoy your roller coaster?
It will be over in the blink of an eye,
Embrace life.
Photo Credit: Utopia Unkown by Ice Blink
by Trebelmaker
At 1:23 each week exactly
Robinson Moroson Georgous Mcclackly
Strides to the store to buy a few things,
And when he leaves the bag he swings
Roninson’s beard is salt peper gray
His eyes are a brown and and blue.
His grin on a wim is fantastically slim
But his heart, his heart is of gold.
‘Good day’ I would say as he strides through the doors
‘How are you Mcclackly, how well?’
:Oh fine’ he would say, as he’d swing on his way
I see you’ve restocked isle nine.
Robinson grabs the same small red cart
Or sometimes he balances things
He grabs chocolate and jelly,
Marshmallows and well he
soon has a picnic in five.
He strides to the counter,
Our giggling banter
Is heard to the back of the store
And I wish him farewell as the bag nearly swells
With the jelly and marshmallow stores.
At 1:23 each week exactly
Robinson Morrison gorgeous Mcclackly
Strides to the store for a picnic for two
One special afternoon with his daughter at 2.
Photo Credit: Dance by Cedar
So its December 1 and I'm pretty sure September was a week, October was 22 hours, and November was maybe 5 days? Is this accurate for anyone else? ~ Trebelmaker
We had a Thanksgiving zoom call with my grandparents and here's how it went: My grandmother, who has an android phone, wasn't sure if she had a google account (she did). Once we were on the call we had to figure out why they couldn't hear us (their sound was turned all the way down). Then we had to figure out why a quarter of their camera wasn't working (they had a camera cover that they didn't know about). We got a lovely view of my grandfather wiping the lens with his thumb. Lol, I love them! ~ Crescent_Moon
YWP Newsletter 11/1/20
Hello and Happy Halloween to everyone at Young Writers Project! I hope you all are well- I know it can be a little hard to stay positive with the upcoming election and health concerns still rising, but that's why staying happy is so important in these hectic times. I want to thank all of the wonderful users on YWP for keeping that community spirit going!
These monthly newsletters highlight writing, audio, images, and recent happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, and Recommend work for publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you authors and artists extra audience and shine, and to bring you readers some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the link to someone's blog to bring the authors even more viewers.
This particular newsletter focuses on the 2020 presidential election. There has been a lot of tension these past few weeks and so has spurred the importance of voting this year. The following writers and artists put that thought into beautiful context.
Enjoy!
This month's contributions are from: cedar, blue potato, Ezra M-S, ckodama24, Scarry Night, mm2005, and Cloudkitty.
A shout out to eyesofIris and Yellow Sweater for hosting last week's Open Mic!
Listen to eyesofIris's 24th Line Break episode with eulusivepurplepanda!
Be sure to sign up for the Online Gateless Writing Salon on November 14th with host Alex Muck!
And don't forget to read The Voice!
( Photo credit above: Watercolor Bears by cedar )
by Scarry Night
You only get one vote.
You only get one counted opinion.
You can rant and try to make people believe whatever,
but in the end,
every person gets one chance.
One chance to have a definite say in this election.
Let me tell you something
before this day arrives.
This country is living,
surviving,
rejoicing at some moments
and maybe not so much at others.
We must keep it that way,
make it better, if anything.
If we are granted the ability
to work together and choose one person
who leads us,
who helps us,
who affects us,
who fights for us,
our country,
our world,
don't you think they must deserve it?
Don't you think they need to know
what will help when things have gone bad,
when things are drowning us as a country?
Don't you think they need to have a plan,
or at the very least an idea,
of how to support our world?
Our home?
When election day arrives,
and you are about to cast your one vote,
please just think about these things.
Think about what direction our country
should take.
It isn't easy,
that's for sure.
How can we truly know what will be good for us?
What will be good for them?
The people?
The citizens?
The families?
The children?
So, I say,
one last hopeful time,
make your vote count,
because you only get one.
I am writing this because I am not currently old enough to vote,
but as a teacher once told me, I still have a say in the decisions
our country makes. We have voices. Use them.
( Photo credit: Inconspicuous Tears by blue potato )
by mm2005
I wanted to create a message for everyone.
Regardless of political party, Republican or Democrat,
red or blue,
I want people to think red, white, and blue.
Think community
rather than division.
Make decisions based on morals, ethics, what’s best for you.
It doesn’t matter if your parents vote red or blue, lean left or right,
chose for you.
Doesn’t need to be the most well-spoken candidate or the one with the best comebacks.
You don’t need to like their hair or the way they wear their mask,
pick someone who will lead by example
whatever you want that example to be.
Vote to make a difference.
Vote to make a change.
Vote to speak your mind.
Vote to empower others.
Vote to make your voice heard.
Vote for America.
Just vote,
one vote,
vote you.
I’m not asking for a lot
just one vote,
five minutes of your time
you choose.
You are the people.
( Photo credit: Birds of no color by Ezra M-S )
by Cloudkitty
Tomorrow I Hope,
that we will have solved global warming.
Tomorrow I Hope,
we will have chosen the right president.
Tomorrow I Hope,
we will have realized we are all equal.
Tomorrow I Hope,
we will stop world hunger.
Tomorrow I Hope,
everyone feels loved.
Tomorrow I Hope,
you will be kind.
I will be kind.
Tomorrow I Will Hope,
Today I Will Hope,
that Tomorrow will be a good day.
( Photo credit: Sunflowers by ckodama24 )
"The point of life is to have friends and make mistakes with them." - NiñaEstrella
"Have you ever wondered what everybody else sees? Does you life feel like your own personal movie to you like it does to me? Also did they ever teach you your left from your right? They never taught me." - SpookyCatHalloween
YWP Newsletter- 10/20/20
Spoooooktacular greetings, YWP!
The world is all kinds of crazy right now, with lingering health concerns, seemingly more homework than usual (although, that's pretty much all the time for me), and of course, the Presidential election! Not to mention Halloween, one of the best evenings of the year. I mean, c'mon, free candy! And although some of us might not be able to partake in the festivities this year (ugh, COVID), try to treat yourself to a bag of candy, and a binge session of Harry Potter (books or movies, up to you!). Or y'know, write some scary pieces on YWP that give us all goosebumps. Wishing you all a treat-filled October, with minimal tricks! :)
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images, and recent happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, and Recommenend work for publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you authors and artists extra audience and shine, and to bring you readers some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the link to someone's blog to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
~~~
This month's contributions are from: AvaClaire, Batman, Cedar, Crescent_Moon, LadyMidnight, Love to write, Stargirl, Treblemaker, Vicarious, and Yellow Sweater.
Be sure to check out eyesofiris's latest Line Break podcast episode with Yellow Sweater, and sign up for the Oh Snap! open mic they will be hosting together on Saturday, October 24th!
photo credit above by Love to write
by Stargirl
Sitting
on the trampoline
lined notebook paper
a pen
in my lap
Waiting
as the rain pours down
Watching as droplets
collect
on the dark
green and red chard
mini waterfalls
gushing down their
veined stems
Waiting
as the rain pours down
The paper in my lap
melts
into pulp
water
streams down my body
plasters my hair to my back
and I stay
Waiting
as the rain pours down
Up
by the house
someone yells my name
beckons
for me to come in
Pretend
not to hear
or see them
Waiting
as the rain pours down
Feel the trampoline bounce
look over to see my sister climb on
watch
as she settles next to me
asks me
didn't I
hear her calling
Smile
tell her yeah
I heard
Waiting
for the words to come
A revelation
photo credit by cedar
by Batman
Fair is her hair on a sunday afternoon.
purple is the sky we lie under
in the evening,
watching stars but not meaning to.
dirty, eyes tired,
dazzed and confused.
not sure what we want,
but letting our bodies tangle on their own.
in the fumbling semi-dark
there is nothing as romantic as a moon,
nothing as sweet as chocolate lips,
just teeth we forgot to brush a few too many times,
and starlight.
with her arms around my shoulders,
in the dewy grass,
so many silly boys
forgotten.
photo credit by Crescent_Moon
by Yellow Sweater
Give me a pair of corduroy bell-bottoms.
Pin my heart to one sleeve
and a flower to the other,
as I pen my manifesto.
I want to smash through windows
and logic,
impaling myself on splintered ideology.
A martyr who:
traipses,
skips,
dances,
to the cross.
I want to fertilize a hopeless revolution
with bad poetry,
and proud insolence.
Quoting Lenin,
singing to Lennon,
a cocktail in one hand,
a bomb in the other,
I want to preach peace,
like it’s war.
photo credit by AvaClaire
I spent every moment I wasn't writing poetry on YWP. haha. I think I have a problem. ~Yellow Sweater
I just heard someone say pickles are just wet vegetables and thats why they're so gross and I can not unhear this. ~Treblemaker
My teacher was telling us what to do during a lockdown drill and she asked me if I did them at my old school and I said no. Then the girl next to me was like oh you'll like them! We just get to hang out, its fun! And I can't stop thinking about the fact that lockdown drills have become so normalized. I hate America sometimes. Vote Biden, please. We need gun control. ~LadyMidnight
YWP Newsletter- 9/20/20
Hello Young Writers Project- welcome back to the Community Leader's newsletter!
Wow, it has been a crazy start to school. Between health checks, one way hallways, and hybrid learning I feel like school is a lot more exhausting than it used to be. But, it is awesome to finally see people my age and have regular conversations again! In these hectic times, writing and art are more important than ever. Take a moment to do something you enjoy or reflect on the crazy day you just had and share it with others- that's what YWP is here for!
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images, and recent happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, and Recommenend work for publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you authors and artists extra audience and shine, and to bring you readers some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the link to someone's blog to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
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This week's contributions are from: Ice Blink, gaia_lenox, laurenm, Yellow Sweater, Crescent_Moon, irishjayne, Eloise Silver Van Meter, Treblemaker, and EverlastingWaves,
Check out YWP's newest anthology: Anthology 11! And, don't miss the special Anthology 11 Line Break podcast created by eyesofIris.
Attend amaryllis's free teen writing workshops!
(Photo credit above: Monochrome Flower Studies 2 by Ice Blink)
by gaia_lenox
i fell in love with a boy
in a magazine
i cut out his face
and plastered it onto
the back of a canvas
not bothering to find his name
in the article
it is nights like these
as I lay flat on my back
and let tears run into my hair
and slip behind my ears
that i wish i could
sink to the bottom of my mattress
and live in the gaps
between the floor boards
my fingers tingling
with nothing at all
my heart is the tangled city streets
of Boston
and my ribs the downed power lines
of Los Angeles
and i miss you
i miss you
i miss you
and I am definitely missing
an earring back
and some space
in my lungs
and i wish myself away
onto a crowded city metro
with a pack of cigarettes in my front pocket
from some tragic indie film
that didn't do too hot in theaters
but is highly revered in certain inner circles
instead
i will hide from
my shadow
and the pieces of myself
i don't love so much
with the missing socks
and spiders
who disappeared and left you
on edge
call me if you can, okay?
(Photo credit: Balance 2 by laurenm)
by Yellow Sweater
I found a pamphlet of thick cream paper
on a dusty undershelf of the poetry aisle.
Like dried out flowers,
the words used to be wet.
I read each word twice,
waiting for them to bloom.
But…
Dry flowers can be lovely, can’t they?
They smelled nice:
those words,
that paper.
It was all very beautiful.
But the flowers were dry.
(Photo credit: Shelburne Farms by Crescent_Moon)
by irishjayne
outside churches with slush
or in tights & the sunshine—
boston, chicago
new york, montreal
paris, and dublin.
i like them dirty & hopeful,
near liquor stores
& goodwills—
they are
pulled up hair
and some irreplaceable
childhood longing,
an undeveloped muscle memory.
all the lit candles,
every prayer not for god
but for the city herself,
with her
edges and echoes
fluorescent palpitations
and bleeding sidewalk cracks,
24 hr cvs more sacred than scripture
starless sky genesis
puddled sewer holy water
T ride pilgrimage
drunk profanity a hymn—
if only someone
were listening
(Photo credit: August Abundance by Eloise Silver Van Meter)
Potential day: either Monday or Thursday. Possible Sunday.
I've been doing a lot of fermenting in front of devices
College prep can suck sometimes
My phone died, then turned on and blasted a duck alarm, then died again, and I've never related to anything more
sleepysleepysleepy. but also want to stay up and write
-Treblemaker
A little chickadee sat on the railing on our front porch about 8 inches away from me. I said 'oh gosh' under my breath and it flew away, scared. it made me think about how small it was compare to me and how small I was compared to it. perspective.
-EverlastingWaves
YWP Newsletter -06/07/2020
Hello, bonjour, aloha, hola, YWP! 2020 has been a crazy year, from pandemics to impeachment hearings, bush fires to the threat of World War III, astroids to killer hornets, and deaths of celebrities to Black Lives Matter protests. I could go on and on but really, I think right now we could all just use a nice warm beverage, a blanket and a book or a movie. On the bright side, think about those poor kids in the future who are studying for some history test and have to memorize all that happened this year. But in all seriousness, if you go out to protest, be prepared with all the things that you need to keep you safe. The president is attempting to fight violence with violence and just be careful out there. You all are wonderful humans so be safe, stay healthy, and speak out for those who can't. Hopefully, the rest of 2020 is significantly less eventful. Sending hugs <3
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images and any happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, Recommended, and work for Publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you authors and artists extra audience and shine, and to bring you readers some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the stories to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
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This week's contributions are from: amaryllis, Ice Blink, Kittykatruff, laurenm, AvaClaire, Crescent_Moon, Treblemaker, and LadyMidnight.
Be sure to check out eyesofiris' latest Line Break podcast episode with Nightheart!
by amaryllis
inky swoops and curls
black blood spouting from a pen
permanently making or marring
the blank potential
tattooing the paper
with your words
your letters are beautiful
neatly elegant cursive
they don't fall and skew
from the pressure of the page
i am not one
who can do what you do
my words are wide and innocent
the letters not quite matching
a reflection of my character
i admire the silver graphite
that stain my fingers with gray
when the pages close
and as they age
they stain the other words
and become the messy print
of an aspiring writer
the whoosh of your pen
brings tears to my eyes
while a smile touches my lips
the stagnant words are ever changing
yet their meaning, a pillar that stands
throughout the planes of time
as thousands of copies on loose leaves
take flight and soar
fluttering into our hands
raining upon the world
a thousand threads connecting
each of us to one another
but just as your words are lasting
mine will fade away
into the whirlpool we call time
the silver will age into gray
and one day only smears will remain
the ashes of a young girl's juvenile letters
but I hope, from these ashes
a writer will rise up
who can take a pen in hand
without a doubt in her mind
that her traces of curling ink
will leave lasting touches
and weave heartstrings together
such that her words are more than letters
photo credit by Ice Blink
by Kittykatruff
Every headline
every day
Stabs me
in another way
All the love
vs. all the hate
why do we
still play this game
Can't fathom
the reasoning
behind the
inequality
Darkness, darkness
pouring down,
stand alone
and we will drown
Humans build
technology
but can't work out
equality
Please stand with us
they call out,
America
has let them down
They've shared with us
stories, sorrows,
learn today, then
act tomorrow
Darkness, darkness
pouring down,
hope is when
a light is found
Please stand with us
they call out
this time, please don't
let them down
Darkness, darkness
all around,
only love drives
darkness out
love is where
the light is found.
photo credit by laurenm
by AvaClaire
What beautiful mud
puddle crumbs
chilled on my legs
some
lines
some
teardrops
some
perfectly hole-punched
onto my skin
I ride into the puddles
whenever I can
to let eden's water
clean me
enough for me to know
that I have the lively ability
to spin the pedals
to roll up
and down the hills
fuzzing my eyes
so I can fly
for only a second
and I can be here
I can be now
I can be present
enjoying
the sun
the sky
and this beautiful mud
photo credit by Crescent_Moon
-The last Friday of school for me
-everyone should play in the sprinklers because it really lifts your mood
- recorded pomp and circumstance for the seniors virtual graduation
- watched back to the future 2, and thoroughly enjoyed yelling at the characters
- (edit) realized I forgot to put a date because who can remember these things anymore
- its 6.6.2020. -82 day of quarantine.
-Treblemaker
Hey guys. If you are feeling overwhelmed with just all the major events like the black lives matter protests and the election and the Coronavirus, you aren't alone. There's a lot happening that's really big right now and it's ok not to be ok. Just a friendly reminder to take care of your mental health and feel free to reach out to me if you need to talk. *hugs*
-LadyMidnight
Last night my school held an in person 6-foot graduation. We sat in our cars on a field in a semi-circle facing a stage where we had 6-foot band performances and 6-foot speeches and 6-foot everythings. We had a parade around the neighborhood where all the neighbors found out they live near a middle school- they all came out and cheered at the cars and we honked and stuck our heads out windows and it was awesome. I just felt like sharing- have good days!
-laurenm
YWP Newsletter - 6/1/20
This newsletter highlights writing, audio, images and any happenings in the YWP Community. We are a small band of YWP Community Leaders who also help create Challenges, select Daily Reads, Recommended, and work for Publication. As the editors of the newsletter, our role is to bring you authors and artists extra audience and shine, and to bring you readers some special pieces of work. Please pass along this newsletter or the links to the stories to bring the authors even more viewers. Enjoy!
by Treblemaker
My back porch has become my friend
better than the rest.
It lets me sit in silence for a while, facing west.
here I see the sunset
and the weeping willow cry,
Here I am alone, myself. Where I can laugh or cry.
The sunset is a beauty
and the colors rich and gold,
there I think of stories, rants and lyrics. New and old.
On the porch I catch the light
I sit in darkenss too,
I wave to stars so high above and breathe the morning dew.
Here I see more of the world
More secretes fit together
Protected, finding shards of hope and enjoying all the weather.
This porch became my comfy chair
its walls are like a hug
wishes seeping through the mesh and keeps away the bugs.
On this porch with willow tears
I find myself and rest
I say hello to who I am, all while facing west.
(photo credit laurenm)
by TreePupWriter
I believe in you. No,
I don't believe
it'll be easy.
I believe this life will be hard and
sometimes you'll want to
collapse on the ground, give in and let it hit you.
But I believe you can get through it standing
tall.
I believe in you. No, I don't believe
you can make it through life
doing what they think you should do,
doing what they tell you.
I believe you can defy them all,
make your own path,
blow them away just by
being yourself.
I believe in you. No,
I don't believe you can
walk your path and
manage to stay standing.
I believe that you can go higher than that.
You can soar.
I believe in you. I believe
you can ride the wave of life,
let it swirl around you, beautiful and dangerous,
dark and light. I believe
you can hold on, make it to the end,
and come out
smiling.
(art credit Cedar)
by Sunflowergirl
My soul fills my body so much
that a single puncture
can become a rushing waterfall
thick skin is impossible
I am the thinnest of tissue paper
though a quick smile
and "I'm fine"
seem to turn me to stone
the knife just digs deeper
I travel instead to a place of hope
get angry, or try to cry
try not to feel numb
the numbness is what scares me
but tears cease to exist
when I want them to
the most human thing to do is cry
(photo credit Vicarious)
Tiny Writes
When the drum beat you follow becomes quiet, make your own music.
fire girl
Hi. Other people still exist. Smile at someone this evening. Life is happy.
NiñaEstrella