YWP Newsletter - 5/21/19

Hi Young Writers Project!! Phew. . .almost to summer. At least, I think. Here in Vermont, it's hard to tell. The weather can't seem to make up its mind. I sure had a hard time making up my mind putting together the newsletter. I wish I could include every single piece of writing out there, I really do. This website is full of incredibly talented artists and each and every one of you deserves credit for that. If you see a writer/photographer doing a particularly great job, leave them a comment! Share the love! Or reply to LadyMidnight's challenge, Got Your Back, to add positivity to someone's day. 

Feel free to skip the introduction if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter! These weekly newsletters are curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, recommend work for publication, create challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining, sometimes focusing on a certain theme... we aim for variety in our collection each week to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give the creators of YWP a wider audience, provide the busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some that we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with many others who may enjoy it!

This week's featured authors and photographers are: Graceful, Kittykatruff, shadowbird123, ShanRippWriting (on behalf of Jacob Yao), Maisie N, LadyMidnight, shenneljolly, and Fiona Ella.

YWP Happenings:

Poetry with Alexandra Contreras-Montesano is currently happening! Sign up here or join in whenever!

Read YWP's new May edition of our digital magazine, The Voice

Respond to these prompts for potential inclusion in VT filmmaker Bess O'Brien's Listen Up Project.

Summer writing workshop with Jennifer Cohen at Vermont Commons School!

Lonely
by Kittykatruff

One of my greatest fears
is being lonely.
To have no one 
who understands me,
or to listen as I 
ponder my deepest thoughts.
I am lucky. 
My friends know me.
even if they do not understand
my words, they're always there
to listen.
Yet
the dark has always
made me feel alone.
It's so isolating,
s e p a r a t i n g  people,
leaving them wondering blindly
where the world went.
One of my worst nightmares 
is being trapped in a dark room,
with no sound but the deafening silence
surrounding me.
The walls close in.
I struggle to breath,
drowning in the darkness—
my fingertips grab desperately
in open air,
and I yearn to make a sound,
any sound, 
to bring sweet relief to my ears,
yet the darkness is too overpowering
and whisks my words away
as soon as they form.
Please don't misunderstand me
and conclude that I'm afraid
of being alone.
Solitude can be liberating,
a chance to catch up with yourself:
read a book,
write a poem,
dance to your favorite song
because no one is watching.
Loneliness is very different.
Loneliness is when
you offer a word to the world
and no one answers.
Loneliness is when
you're bursting with things to say
yet no one's there to listen.
Loneliness is when
you long for a friend
but no one takes your outstretched hand.
I've moved twice—I know what it feels like.
Even thieves need a partner in crime
(though I don't support using friendship for theft).
Loneliness is something
I would never wish on anyone,
no matter the morality of their actions.
So when someone says even a simple "hello" 
in the hallway at school,
or asks about someone's day,
or compliments them,
it can make all the difference.


(Photo credit: Kittykatruff)
Solace
by shadowbird123

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.


(Photo credit: ShanRippWriting on behalf of Jacob Yao)
 
Chorale
by Maisie N

I like you, how unlikely
How sweet, so suddenly slow
I like you, how surprising
I wonder where it will go
I like you, how inconvenient
How difficult to let it show
I like you, now you've seen it
But I'm afraid you will never know.

I will love anyone who hears me screaming
Anyone who will stay and quiet me down
Silence is intolerable, so it seems
So why would you stick around?
Let me listen to your footsteps as I watch you leave
Let me write you a somber chorale
A hymn would be too kind for you and me
We require deep and melancholy sounds.

I have prayed over every note of this song
Every moment of you, every line of this poem
I have slaved away while you have coasted along
You look happy, you do. So tell me what's wrong.
For I know you and I know your love
I know that nothing is what it seems after all.
I am old enough now, to know what I've lost
But it was quite the climb before the painful fall.

Perhaps that is what I felt as I wrote
But who is to say what a writer feels?
In the end, it is truly the messenger
Who decides exactly what is real
Not the composer but the arranger
For you tell what I try and conceal
You’re destroying me. You’re good for me.
You ask me to play you my chorale.

So look away as my hands touch the keys
Look away as you hear for the first time aloud
I put too much of myself into this
So please, don’t you dare turn around
The words I cannot say are hidden here
You make me vulnerable instead of proud
Look away because there is so much I don’t know
And so much I can never tell.

I love you, how lovely
How beautifully irrational
I love you, however predictably
However bizarre and unemotional
I gave in because I wanted to
Because I like to see you smile
I love you, now you’ve heard it
Sweet and somber like a chorale.

(Photo credit: Graceful)

Tiny Writes

Every time a smile falls
A beautiful flower wilts.
-Graceful
And every time a flower wilts
The earth gathers the others closer
-LadyMidnight
And every time the earth gathers the others closer
The sun smiles back, shining harder
-shenneljolly

For some reason it always makes me happy to see a little old lady driving a pickup truck.
-Fiona Ella

YWP Newsletter - 5/15/19

Hello, YWP writers! We're getting closer still to the end of school. Just think- a whole few months to relax, enjoy the weather, and, of course, write. What are you looking forward to the most?

Feel free to skip the introduction if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter! These weekly newsletters are curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, recommend work for publication, create challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining, sometimes focusing on a certain theme... we aim for variety in our collection each week to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give the creators of YWP a wider audience, provide the busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some that we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with many others who may enjoy it!

This week's featured authors and photographers are: beautifulMy Perperual We..., Marina2020, LadyMidnight, k.daigle, little elephants, and Abriatis.

YWP Happenings:

Poetry with Alexandra Contreras-Montesano is currently happening! Sign up here or join in whenever!

Read YWP's new May edition of our digital magazine, The Voice

Respond to these prompts for potential inclusion in VT filmmaker Bess O'Brien's Listen Up Project.

Summer writing workshop with Jennifer Cohen at Vermont Commons School!

untitled
by My Perpetual We...

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
in some Kabuki cat's apartment-
a leather glove, a cigarette,
don't ask for more- that's all you get;
until you someday stop and wonder-
           wonder?
Going under,
loot and plunder,
                           though we've never met.
Dirty velvet used for masking;
time's a bitch- though no one's asking;
pour diamonds down the kitchen sink,
I bet you've never stopped to think
about the blood those diamonds spilled-
           spilled?
Nearly killed,
rather thrilled,
                      pen and ink.

(Photo credit: Marina2020)
Believer
by LadyMidnight

I believe in watching sunsets
And reaching your fingers up
Until you brush the sky
And have color stained fingers.

I believe in laughing and smiling
And being happy
To be alive in this moment.

I believe in spontaneous hugs
When you run up behind your friends
And just breathe them in
Holding them like you never want to let go
(you don't)

I believe in rain clouds
That stream across your fingers
As you stare at yourself in ripples of puddles
As your boots slowly fill 
Until they overflow.

I believe in speaking out
Until your voice croaks from over use
And the world is a peaceful place
And equality is expected.

I believe in writing.
Putting pen to paper 
Until your hand is cramping
But the waterfall of words spilling from your mouth
Is not slowing.

I believe in you.
Chances are I've never met you
But I believe that you want the best for this world and the people in it.
I know that you want change 
And I know that you'll step up in the name of equality.
I believe in you.

I believe in myself
And the change that I create.
I believe in my wits
And my smile
To put me in the right place
In the right time period.
I agree with you.
I have no interest in being forgotten.

So please
Believe in me and yourself.

(Photo credit: LadyMidnight)
Why I Write
by k.daigle

I’ve always had trouble with words.

My whole life, they have gotten stuck in my throat,
my mind whispering to shove them back down,
where they get locked in my heart,
never to be heard.

I don’t know why my mind does it,
why it has trained me to think that
no one wants to hear my words,
my thoughts and opinions.

The only time that the lock is opened
is when I write. For whatever reason,
once I have a pencil and a piece of paper,
all those words are set free.

From there, they spill out, dance along the page,
poured from my inner self until they are their
own being. They roam where they wish,
and my heart is finally light once more.

This is my reason for writing.
I cannot speak and be who I am
without my ability to write.
What is your reason?

(Photo credit: little elephants)

Tiny Writes

asleep we stay 
under the awning
of rotten boughs
and dying leaves

we're killing the planet
why aren't we doing anything?
we are
but
is it too late?
-Abriatis

Sometimes I wish I could stop time,
but then nothing would matter anymore. 
Time is the essence of being alive.
Are we really born just to die?
No, we are born to use the time we are given,
and not waste it wishing we could stop it.
-k.daigle

YWP Newsletter - 5/7/19

Spring has, at last, sprung. And this spring really reminds us why we say "sprung", doesn't it? It seems as though the flowers and summer grass has bounced at us out of this still-muddy earth. I, personally, am very ready for school to end so we can enjoy this gorgeous weather. Some pieces in this week's newsletter pay tribute to the changing season. Enjoy!

Feel free to skip the introduction if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter! These weekly newsletters are curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, recommend work for publication, create challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining, sometimes focusing on a certain theme... we aim for variety in our collection each week to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give the creators of YWP a wider audience, provide the busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some that we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with many others who may enjoy it!

This week's featured authors and photographers are: Love to Write, Graceful, Rovva, DarkTruths, beautiful, shadowbird123, LadyMidnight, and adalet.

YWP Happenings:

Poetry with Alexandra Contreras-Montesano is currently happening! Sign up here or join in whenever!

Read YWP's new May edition of our digital magazine, The Voice

Do You Ever Feel Like A Flower In The Sun?
by Rovva

Do you ever feel like a flower in the sun?
You’re sitting in water, your leaves soaked,
your face is to the sky, and your petals stretch.
You feel it on your face like a warm kiss
and let it hit you like rain falling from a cloud.
Does it ever occur to you that there’s dust
sitting on your desk back at home?
Did you ever realize that the paint is chipped?
Does it bother you that life is a hole
that keeps going further and further
and darker and darker
until you hit the bottom?
Did you ever notice that the bottom,
that unbreakable, cold, and dark ground,
is not the end of everything?
While you may be tempted to look down
and scratch at the bottom like a cat
scratching at the front door for a welcoming,
your life is up there waiting for you
and there’s always a rope around you,
leading you back up,
keeping you steady,
and all you have to do is give it a tug,
pull yourself up, and cling to it
because as long as you’re holding on,
it won’t let you fall.
When the sun hits your face
and you soak it in
and you’re sitting there at the top,
waiting to jump down again and start over,
do you ever feel like a flower?

(Photo credit: Graceful)
Irrelevance
by DarkTruths

Pluto is a planet to me.
It's a small one, but a planet just like the rest.

I relate to pluto more than the average girl.
Some people would describe me as "vanilla".
Not the first choice, but still a decent flavor.
I don't want to be vanilla.
I want to be a flavor that's a first pick, not a backup when there are no other flavors.

Pluto is vanilla too. 
So insignificant that even though it fits in the solar system, you almost forget it's there.
I'm so insignificant that even though I fit into social groups, you almost forget I'm there.

Pluto is so unimportant that people truly removed it's title of "planet".
But I know what it feels like Pluto.
I believe in you.

(Photo credit: beautiful)
The Truth of Spring
by shadowbird123

Earth is awakening from its bitter cocoon,
Flowers unfurling like dancers,
Stems and stamens to the sun.
Life is tantalized by the novice breeze
And the promise of better days
All made by one who may not keep it.

Is spring new life or death to winter?
We bid farewell to arctic winds.
Snow and ice merging into ground
Stone warming rather than stone cold.
Green shoots appear, a nemesis to frozen earth
And warm breezes a boast to frosty gales.

That sapphire sky, so blue and clear,
Covered by thick blankets of cloud,
And woven through with rays of particulate light.
Is it a just prank, a joke of Nature?
A gift given and then revoked?
We know not.

And yet, we cannot help but enjoy it;
We’re human, after all.
Gifted in finding delight in such simple processes
As the rotation of the earth in space
And the radiation of the sun
Into the cold of the universe.

(Photo credit: beautiful)

Tiny Writes

Our currency as teenagers is peer approval.
Think about someone you envy
Then think about someone who envies you.
The second part was harder right?

Tell someone you see them
And think that they're beautiful inside and out

If everyone did this once a day
The depression rate would go way, way down
-LadyMidnight

how can i ever
hope to return home
when i know that
it has deteriorated beyond
all recognition, that
if i were to return
i'd find nothing but
a hollow shell of
who i used to be?
-adalet

YWP Newsletter- 4/29/19

Last week of April! Wow... it feels like it has gone by really quickly. The last few months of school will be over in no time. Get ready everyone. 

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletters. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining... we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This week's contributors are eyesofIrirs, CecyRavenclawFireheart, Emilia Perry, Brooke Fontaine, Forever young, Adelle M. Brunstad, madge, James Boldosser, and hockeygirlforever.

Photo above is by Jaylin Seaman from Essex High School 

YWP Happenings: 
Join Alexandra Contreras-Montesano for an online poetry workshop. Learn more here

Midnight in a Hotel Room 
by eyesofIris 

Lying under 
starchy white comforters, 
listening to the 
air conditioner hum
its own sweet
melody. 

My mom
fiddling with the 
chunky black radio,
turning and turning
the knob
until
the clinky static
gives way to 
soft music. 

Unfamiliar voices 
filter through like
dust particles,
gently, almost
invisibly, 
and then
the light shines 
on them and 
they're all you
can see. 

Soft, kind words, 
from an unknown
mouth, 
whispered and 
murmured as the 
neon numbers 
grow higher, 
climbing the 
ferris wheel 
until they 
reach the peak:

Midnight. 

There's something
so sacred and 
treasured about
midnight in hotel rooms.

The moon is 
kissing the dark-dark 
sky, 
the stars are aglow.

Maybe a door or 
two slam shut on
your floor, 
people hurriedly 
trying to get 
to their rooms
and go to sleep. 

They've traveled 
for hours- 
days, maybe. 

Far from home, 
they can't
wait to lie
down under the 
starchy white comforter
and listen to
unfamiliar voices
murmur about
tuning in to 90.5 
for more classical music. 

It's what hotel rooms
are for, 
after all. 

Photo by CecyRavenclawFireheart 
A Walk in a Wooded World 
by Emilia Perry

In Vermont,
the middle of spring means everything is brown.

The mud that churns and splashes under tires on the dirt roads.
The bark of the newly-budding trees,
Wet with the rain of promised flowers to come.
The grass that remains pale and scratchy,
Newly free of its heavy winter coating.

A walk in the woods brings new life
To this time so devoid of color.
Though, it does not come in the form of visible hues.

It comes from the chirps and songs of birds,
Who have returned and brought with them such pleasant noise,
Breaking the silence of the winter months,
As barren as the cold landscape itself.

It comes from the sticky sweet sap
Oozing from the maple trees,
Collected in metal buckets,
To later coat your tongue and breakfast,
Thick and rich like honey.

It comes from the smell,
That is so strongly the smell of spring,
It’s difficult to articulate,
But emotes the new life emerging before your eyes.

It makes you appreciate the brown even more,
Because it’s evolved to be a promise,
Of the flowers' painted faces,
Soon to bloom and greet the sun.
The lush green grass,
Rolling over the hills and fields,
Like a soft, new carpet.

You’re now content to wait for the visible color,
Already feeling it swirling in the air,
Through the trees, around you.
In the form of a pleasant breeze,
Lifting the hairs on the back of your neck.

Photo by Brooke Fontaine from Essex High School
Look Beyond the Pain 
by Forever young 

I’m sorry
I’m sorry for the broken heart you have tucked away
I’m sorry for your sunken soul and saddened face
I’ll stand beside you anyways
Even if you want to be locked away for forever
Even if you are convinced you are never going to get better
Because you will
My pain could never account to the heartbreak you have felt
Even if it was multiplied by a million
I can’t even imagine
But I will stand by you, your faithful friend
Who will be the crutch for your blackened heart
Because if you fill your scars with ashes
It will just tear you apart
And the tears I have cried could never account to the weight of your secrets
The weight of your pain
The weight of your emptiness
I’m sorry for your loss
But we are only 12, aren’t we?
Our whole life ahead of us
Wear your scars on your sleeve
Because sometimes they can fuel your triumphs
Look beyond your pain
I know you can do it. 

Photo by Adelle M. Brunstad

Photos and Art Gallery

Girl and Dog in the Rain
by madge 
Lock
by James Boldosser from Essex High School 
Springtime's Snowflakes 
by hockeygirlforever

YWP Newsletter- 4/22/19

Welcome again to the April newsletter! Spring break is amazing. Especailly when it starts to get warm I feel deprived of fresh air during the school week. It's so refreshing and exciting to get outside this time of year. 

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletters. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining... we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This week's contributors are Maisie N, LadyMidnight, CateLodestoa1, Evi Q, and CecyRavenclawFireheart

Photo above is by Graceful

Notre Dame 
by Maisie N 

Once, in Paris, when you were very young
You realized you had nowhere to go
So you took yourself to Notre Dame
Attracted by the stained glass windows
With little to nothing for you to live on
You found you were no longer alone
Now all of that may be gone
But you are still here. What do you know?

I thought, tonight I would call you up
Meet you in front of some payphone
A quarter could take us nearly anywhere
As long as you don't leave me alone
I'm just trying to keep it together
As wonders and history burn to the ground
It's true, nothing may last forever
I just hope I will always have you around.

Some damage we do cannot be undone
Some hurt, some pain, is irreversible
Sometimes we are the ones in the wrong
And even our best apologies are futile
It doesn't matter if it was 'an accident'
It happened because I wasn't careful
You can't light a flame and leave it unattended
Next to something so priceless and so beautiful.

Maybe it's because now, I'm a little older
Maybe it's wisdom still left in the cathedral
Maybe it's because, with your head on my shoulder
I felt something light up in me, like a candle
They built this city long before me, before you
Yet I think I found hope in something new
We might never be the same as we used to
But the city is buring, and I still love you.

How does one rebuild history?
How does one accept when it is lost? 
The truth is, we are shockingly temporary
Outlasted by our stories and ghosts
Change might happen very slowly
But it is an undeniable, constant force
So that one day, I may look about Paris
And realize I have nowhere to go.

Photo by LadyMidnight
Beautiful (excerpt) 
by Cate

I looked up from my laptop, my fingers pausing their dance across the keys. The clinking of cups on saucers and aroma of fresh espresso filled the quiet coffee shop, the scent seemingly emitting from the walls. From my quiet and cozy corner, I could see the entirety of the shop. From the local art delicately hung upon the walls, to behind the counter where the worker on shift was swaying slightly to the music playing from his headphones, but I could also see her.

   She sat at the far table, right next to the window. The golden afternoon sunlight shown softly through the glass, catching her chocolate colored hair in the light. I felt my vision tranfix on her, hypnotized by the way she carefully flipped each page of her history textbook, and the way her feet, fitted in beat up white converse, tapped the rustic wooden floor, as though to the beat of a song only she could hear.

Read the whole story here!
Photo by Lodestoa1
Hope 
by Evi Q

Look to the East as shadows draw near
Despite the dark, there is hope here
Embedded in the stars of twinkling light
With them there, there shall be no fright
Like a comforting hand on a child's shoulder
Stars accompany us as the night gets older
The night stretches on, fading into darkness
The only light, from the stars brightness
Look to the East as shadows draw near
Despite the dark there is hope here.

Photo by CecyRavenclawFireheart

YWP Newsletter- 4/15/19

Welcome to the 2nd April newsletter! We've been getting some gentle rain showers these past few days and it looks like we're in for more... be ready for plenty of May flowers.

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletters. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining... we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This week's contributors are IcestormGraceful, Maisie N, Nathaniel Steele, PeachesMalone, Ice Blink, Nightheart, and k.daigle.

Photo above is by Ice Blink

ars longa vita brevis 
by Icestorm

i bet no one ever told you
that poets are liars.

they are gifted with the curse
of spinning tragedies into fairytales,
like straw into gold.

because before blood was beautiful,
it was brutal.

it was the animal desire to survive,
scarlet rusted on wolf fangs,
a deadly tapestry dyed on fur.

because before hunger was attractive,
it was abuse.

it was a half-dead city rat
with bones like blades,
starving under a starless sky.

because before addiction was normal,
it was neglect.

it was broken bottles and cigarette stubs,
craving and carving,
thoughts like curdled milk rotting inside a skeleton.

because before mental health became a competition
pain was not coveted.

what poets do not tell you
is ars longa, vita brevis:
art is long, life is short.

Photo by Graceful
Wake Me 
by Maisie N

I wanted to remind you of us running
Running late for everything
When we used to wear each other's clothes
And smell like each other every day
Me driving home after school
With you, right there in the passenger seat
Of stolen autumn kisses-- lips warm, air cold
That feeling when two seasons meet.

I was running late for school this morning
So I left you alone, sleeping
I hadn't the heart to try and wake you
So I took your jacket with me
I stepped outside expecting March snow
Only to be greeted with April rain
Suddenly you and I were different
I noticed the seasons had changed.

I cannot claim that I knew from the start
I still am not sure, what did I do?
I can't believe I captured your heart
Got myself so stuck on you
Fell for you with the autumn leaves
And froze there as wintry wind blew
Now the frost is thawing, the birds are singing
But still, I'd rather be with you.

What is it, precisely that sets you apart
When nothing feels so unique or new?
Indeed, it feels like a unique sort of start
Just to wake up in May with you
Your eyes, my heart and the sky are clear
This weather is long overdue
But every time you draw near
I feel the same as I used to.

This is our spring awakening
This might be our very best part
April showers bring May flowers
For you and I to make into art
I will write, and you play that song
Make me dread any time we spend apart
I will listen, and you will read out loud
What we feel, but refuse to impart.

Art by ​Nathaniel Steele, grade 12, Danville School. 
A Polite Refusal to Be Forgotten 
by PeachesMalone 

I don't want to be forgotten
I don't want to be someone that the future doesn't know was here 
I don't want to be someone normal
I don't want my name to be on a gravestone covered with moss that tourists pass by on their way to someone else's tomb
I don't want to be an anyone

I want my words to flow through years 
Like brooks
I want them to inspire again and again
I want the stories I write to be loved
Worn
Nibbled on by literature-inclined mice 
Read again and again by people with soft hands
Wrinkled hands
Small hands
Scarred hands

I want to be great
I don't want to be a memory in someone else's mind
I want to be someone who changed people's hearts
I want to love
Be loved

I want to write
And draw
And sing
And dance
And read
And change
And change
And change

I want to be a candle that never goes out
I want to live forever in people's hearts 
And in their books
And on their shelves
In their shadows
Behind their doors
Jumping out and reminding them that 
I was here
I was great

Billions of people have passed through here
In a sea of human bodies, most will be forgotten
I must politely refuse to be one of them

I want to exceed the standard
Go above and beyond
Work hard, be remembered

But sometimes I don't know which direction I want to go

Photo by Ice Blink

tiny writes

Try not to think too much
it might end up killing you.

By Nightheart

 



I think there will always be a part of me that is lost, 
wandering somewhere out in the world. 

By k.daigle

YWP Newsletter- 4/8/19

Hello YWP, 
It looks like Vermont is finally going to be getting some steady warm weather these next few weeks (knock on wood) so enjoy it! I love to go outside in the spring it feels a little like waking up after the long-sluggish winter. I recommend, if you have a spare minute, to go find a large oak tree on a hill and climb it barefoot- I have first-hand experience that the view is wonderful and it helps with that spring alive feeling. Keep taking beautiful pictures like the one above by LadyMidnight and share them on YWP so your photos can appear next in the Newsletter. Happy April! 

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletters. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining... we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: check out the other newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

Contributors to this week's newsletter: LadyMidnight, Icestorm, Graceful, eyesofIris, Ice Blink, and irishjayne

Ars Longa Vita Brevis 
by Icestorm

i bet no one ever told you
that poets are liars.

they are gifted with the curse
of spinning tragedies into fairytales,
like straw into gold.

because before blood was beautiful,
it was brutal.

it was the animal desire to survive,
scarlet rusted on wolf fangs,
a deadly tapestry dyed on fur.

because before hunger was attractive,
it was abuse.

it was a half-dead city rat
with bones like blades,
starving under a starless sky.

because before addiction was normal,
it was neglect.

it was broken bottles and cigarette stubs,
craving and carving,
thoughts like curdled milk rotting inside a skeleton.

because before mental health became a competition
pain was not coveted.

what poets do not tell you
is ars longa, vita brevis:
art is long, life is short.

Photo taken by Graceful
Lemons 
by eyesofIris 

Broken rulers have no way to measure, and 
I think fragile is another word for scared to fall. 
Dusty lemons make me feel sick,
and I take back everything I just said. 
Lemon scented letters-
Hands are wild adventurers.
Iris thinks the world should move slower. 

Photo taken by Ice Blink

The Inconvenience of Memory 
by irishjayne

Easy to forget the important things,
huh?
Brother's birthday,
French verb forms,
doctor's appointments,
the oven you left on.
So why can't I forget 
the color of nail polish I was wearing?
Can't forget
my cherry earrings,
how one of my socks was white and
the other was cream (some unimportant Thursday.)
I remember the eye color
of every person I've ever liked 
all the words to 
camp songs, insurance jingles,
plot points of "Grey's Anatomy," season 8,
who sat next to me our last dinner in Galway,
the worst thing my mother has ever said to me.
Things that don't matter anymore.
Things that never mattered.
Things I'd like to forget.
Things I'd quickly replace with
the equation of a parabola,
or the molecular weight of water.

But my memory has a sense of humor.

YWP Newsletter - 03/25/2019



Hello everyone, and sorry for the delay. I know I'm probably the millionth teenager to say this for the billionth time - but this past weekend was a bit crazy. Those of you - most of us - balancing school with work with family with friends likely know how sometimes, no matter how frantically you weave back and forth, something is bound to fall off that teetering tower. When that happens, the momentary stillness creates an opportunity to restack and strengthen the tower. Today, amid turbulent scrambling, these pieces reminded me that even within chaos, calm and clarity can be found. 

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletter for new readers. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This Newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining...we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: Check out the other Newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This Issue features the creations of: eyesofiris, Fiona Ella, Graceful, LadyMidnight, Love to Write, Roses and Summer Dreams, srublee19, and zazu
 

YWP HAPPENINGS:

Writing on the Roof: How to Write a Killer College Essay with Denise Shekerjian - Tuesday, March 26, 6 PM - 7:30 PM 

Check out YWP Events 2019 for more information on these events and other ongoing opportunities.

By zazu

An ambulance siren wails through the night,
Its pitch rising and falling in the crisp winter air.
Pedestrians scurry on the sidewalk, many floors below my bedroom window,
And I could wonder:
Where are they going?
What are they thinking?
But I will never know as I sit and gaze out over the city.
The city that never sleeps.
An explosion of light in the darkness,
With shimmering skyscrapers,
And tall buildings, that glow over streets, shedding their light.

I zip up my jacket, and open my apartment door.
My boots tap softly on the hall carpet.
I ride the elevator down to the lobby,
And then go out into the street.
Outside, where the only view is at eye level.
It makes me feel small to know that someone could be looking down at me right now,
The way I looked at them.
The sky is a dark shade of navy blue.
The people are many shades too,
As they blend together into one large crowd,
To make a rainbow at night,
Under the stars.
By eyesofiris

Luminescent stones leap out to rest under my feet-
candles have no place telling me it's too dark to see.
Asterisks seem like lonely perfectionists, and
my thoughts don't fit me the way I want them to. 
Is there a reason why Sundays make me so sad?
The gritty hugs from relatives make me uneasy-
marshmallows armed with stickiness.
Rough magenta crayons barely being held together, 
wax is untrustworthy. 

(*written using cut-up poetry technique* from the Beat Poets workshop)

(Photo Credit: Graceful
By Love to Write

I relearned today
about Earth's seven layers. 
I knew about them in 6th grade
but only in hazy, nondescript detail. 

Scientists' knowledge about the Earth
is only based on hypotheses. 

We don't actually know for sure
what we are standing on every day. 

All these layers of uncertainty
reminded me of myself. 

Do I have a mantle? 
What's really inside of me? 
Could someone tell how solid I am just by holding me? 

I cry when something inside me shifts. 
Am I all that measurably different from earthquakes? 

Are we defined by our core's composition,
or just by the way we feel when we are proven to exist? 

(Photo Credit: srublee19)

Tiny Writes Spotlight

I am lost in this world, now.
Taking in its beauty. 
I probably spend two to three hours here-only in a day.
Not only writing. But reading,exploring and fussing over beautiful work.
Let me walk through this place, with no guiding hand. 
Just me and the screen.
And the big world ahead.
I know this is a place I look forward to.
"I will overflow my cup. 
Exceed. 
Sail through rough winds.
Let me write. 
No need for anything else. Nothing is stopping me.
Let me write.
And explore the big world ahead."
- Roses and Summer Dreams 

"If you take the petals off of a rose
It will still be a rose."
- Graceful

"Every time boredom drives me to think about the moment compared to the future, my grasp on the concept of time starts slipping away from me."
- Fiona Ella 
 

YWP Newsletter - 3/18/219



As the sap begins to flow in the March maples, youth across the country are putting their drop in the bucket. This past Friday, students skipped school to demand that their government take urgent climate action. On this so - called "Friday for the Future", my school chose to speak out in a different way. As a member of the Environmental Action Club, I helped to collect nearly seven - hundred and fifty postcards urging key Vermont representatives to support action to protect our deteriorating climate. As I sat down to write my postcards, I was prompted to think of why I specifically care about climate change. I immediately thought of my little sisters. I recalled the times I feel closest to them; sitting on the couch, or just the floor, a book spread across our laps, sharing our love of reading. When I was their age, my favorite was the Lorax. I loved the whimsical verse, and later, how it reminded me of the importance of respecting the planet. A few lines in particular stuck with me: “But now," says the Once-ler, "now that you're here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.” Please hold these words in mind as you read the following poems, which illustrate the impacts of action - and inacton. 
- Hazel.C., YWP Newsletter

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletter for new readers. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This Newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining...we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: Check out the other Newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This Issue features the creations of: Adelle M. Brunstad, beautiful, LadyMidnight, PeachesMalone, Rovva, srublee19, and willow tree. 
 
YWP HAPPENINGS:

Special SoundCheck on Social Justice led by YWP's Charlotte Hughes, Rebecca Orten, and Rajnii Eddins - THIS THURSDAY! March 21, 6 PM - 8 PM (there's pizza!)

Writing on the Roof: How to Write a Killer College Essay with Denise Shekerjian - Tuesday, March 26, 6 PM - 7:30 PM (there's pizza!) 

Check out YWP Events 2019 for more information on these events and other ongoing opportunities.

(Heading Photo Credit: willow tree

By LadyMidnight

Today I cried.
I cried because my teacher sat down my class and made us watch a documentary on how we are killing coral reefs.
It showed pictures of beautiful plants and animals thirty years ago
Then showed us pictures of dead coral skeletons that were white against the murky ocean.
They told us that we could fix it and make the coral come back alive
But it still won't be the same.
Did you know that if it were not for the ocean
Our daily tempratures would be over 100 degress Farenheit?
I teared up at a photo of nothing.
The coral was just dead. 
It looked like someone had thrown litter there and never taken it out.
Climate change.
That's what's causing this.
Our oceans are warming because of all the carbon in the air
And we are killing animals.
It is highly frowned upon in our society to kill thousands of people.
But the ironic thing is that humans are killing animals and plants every day.
So much destruction.
Does this make me a murderer?
A bad person?
Maybe.
But at least I recognize the problems.
Thinking about it now
I don't think I was crying that the reefs are dying.
I was crying because we are not working hard enough to save them.

(Photo Credit: srublee19)
By PeachesMalone

Energy doesn't have to hurt people
Energy doesn't have to cause people to leave the land 
That they grew up on
That their parents grew up on

It's not worth it

Methane popping up in people's water
Lighting on fire by the touch of a match
This is not a natural occurrence

A pocked landscape 
Covered with places cleared from bushes and trees
For wells
Of oil

I just learned that solar, wind power and hydro electricity could cover all the energy demands of the world

What are we waiting for?
Are we waiting for corporations to realize
That their money is not worth the fate of the earth
The fate of all the young people who didn't start
This 
Enormous 
Mess?

What are we waiting for?

Are we waiting
For the government
The oil companies
The coal companies
To understand that their money
Their lobbying
Their non-disclosure agreements
Are not worth the suffering
The pain
And the frustration of all the people not old enough to vote

This is the only world we have
If we hurt it
There will be nothing left 

There are so many problems
Issues
Ideas
Wishes
Movements
That we can fix
That we can fight for
But if we dobn't have a healthy planet that we can call home 

We won't be able to fight for anything else

(Photo Credit: beautiful)
By Adelle M. Brunstad

to live with purpose is
to see the world in singing starlight
a beguiling black canvas
studded with moments of
existential ecstacy

a star to every time
we have raised our voices
against the thunder
and became the vein
of light which shot
into the hearts of darkness

a moon to every minute
we listened
so that every word dropped
into our wellsprings
of knowledge
or so the speaker
could rest with the knowledge
that somebody listened.

(Photo Credit: LadyMidnight)

Tiny Writes Spotlight

I had a dream last night
that was someone was tattooing over my scars
with lines that looked like scars
as a way of tracing them and making them apparent.
It was like my brain was trying to tell me
to make pain into art.
- Rovva 

I am so lucky that my water doesn't light on fire when I stick a match under it. - PeachesMalone

 

YWP Newsletter - 03/10/2019



As the late - winter sun begins to reluctantly give us just a few more degrees of warmth, the slowly inching spring brings with it both obligation and celebration, one of the most recent of which being International Women's Day. Throughout that day, I saw many posts on social media recognizing inspiring women from all places and proffesions. This seems to be a wonderful, far reaching way to honor amazing women, but impossible for me to join in, as I could never choose who to recognize. There are so many incredible women out in the world, and in my life, who I admire, that it was hard to know where to start. Of course, I found inspiration in writing. While reading the posts over the past week, a few stood out to me in the way the expressed a strength in their purpose - though their topics are quite different. I realized that I admired all the women who came to mind for their strength in their chosen purpose; whether it be strength shown in love, dedication, work, art, sacrifice, or one of the myriad of other manifestations. These pieces reminded me that we all - individuals, families, trees...- have the spark to light this strength, and with much work and care, we may someday hope to be as dedicated, creative, or selfless; as strong as those we most admire. 

As usual, the following is an intro to the YWP Newsletter for new readers. Feel free to skip ahead if you're a regular.

Welcome to the YWP Newsletter, curated and created by a team of Community Leaders, who, along with many others, Recommend work for Publication, Create Challenges, give feedback, and do some writing of our own! This Newsletter is a highlight of our favorite work from each week, creative, insightful, entertaining...we aim for variety to reflect and engage that of the many writers, artists, photographers and musicians of YWP. We, as the editors, hope to give these creators a wider audience, provide our busy members a taste of each week's pieces, and share some of the pieces we particularly loved with you. Please become a returning reader: Check out the other Newsletters, and share the link with others who may enjoy it.

This Issue features the creations of: Adelle M. Brunstad, beautiful, Graceful, LadyMidnight, lana.W, and My Perpetual Wednesday. 
 
YWP HAPPENINGS:

Writing on the Roof #4 : Writing Like the Beat Poets  with Angela Palm - Saturday, March 16th, 10am - 11:30am  

Special SoundCheck on Social Justice lead by YWP's Charlotte Hughes, Rebecca Orten, and Rajnii Eddins - March 21
6 - 8pm 

Check out YWP Events 2019 for more information on these events and other ongoing opportunities

(Heading Photo Credit: beautiful ) 

By lana.W

Listen to the wind.
Like a man who has sinned,
It thrashes and screams and shouts.
Our hopes may have thinned
but it's only the wind.
Let go now of any and all doubts.

The heavens now cry,
As trees and leaves fly.
But children are calmed and regaled.
So worry not why,
Just let the clouds cry.
You're safe now, the doors have been nailed.

Sam put that down!
Sweet Emma don't frown.
This storm will be all over soon
We’re all safe for now.
Then we’ll all go lay down
Beneath the pale light of the moon.

It’s just one more hour
Till we don’t have to cower.
And the sun is shining again.
The earth will then flower,
In this short, golden hour.
There's no need to fret, my friend.

(Photo credit: Graceful
By Adelle M. Brunstad

I am 237 years old today,
the oldest tree in this forest. I am
a living measurement of time, a history book in
its most natural form. Wizened by decades of observation
witness to catastrophes and wonders you will never know
but there is one tradgety I will tell you. One of every twelve
trees in Vermont are ash trees like me and their wails in the wind warn
of imminent death in the form of an emerald beetle. Their larvae grow under
our bark, feed on our flesh, blocking our transportation of water and
nutrients until our skin becomes brittle and splits, our crowns of
foliage fall and we die of thirst and starvation. These invasive
aliens won't stop until we've all collapsed, returning
 to the earth we once arose from. You may
be thinking "Its just
trees, why should
we care?" Our lives
are more intwined
than you realize.
We take your exhales
and  turn them  into
 inhales. We  help
 make your Green
Mountains   green.
If your ancestors had
not used our wood to make
paper what would you know of
the past? If they had no wood to
make shelters, to start fires for warmth,
to cook food, perhaps you would have never existed.

All we ask for in return is for you to not be indifferent.
For as fast as the emerald ash borer spreads, let these words spread faster. Don't let my story die with me.

Because if I fall in the forest and no one is there to hear me, I will not make a sound.

(Photo credit:beautiful ) 
By LadyMidnight

I am the nobody you taught me to be.
I am the one that seems to disapear before your very eyes.
I could easily get away with many crimes
Because people's eyes glaze right over me
Like they don't want to see me.
And maybe they don't.
Maybe if they see me I'll have power
Choices that they don't want me to make.
I'll be the person that they don't want me to be.
Free
Full of liberty
Laughing at the walls that obstruct me.
We have all been taught to be nobodies
To be silent
To sit down
To be compliant
Because that is how we survive.
But what if stopped trying to survive
And started to thrive?
Become somebodies?
Make eye contact with everyone?
I was the nobody you taught me to be
But now I am the somebody changing expections
And lighting the way.

(Photo credit: LadyMidnight)

Tiny Write Spotlight

"Whenever you get discouraged about your writing and wonder if you'll ever improve just remember that David Bowie went from "The Laughing Gnome" to "Space Oddity" in the space of two years.
Never heard "The Laughing Gnome"?
I guarantee that you've already written many things far, far better than that awkward little piece of history, so technically you're already one step ahead of David Bowie.
You're one step ahead of David Bowie.
Guys... you've got this." 
- My Perpetual Wednesday 

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