YWP Content Published in Newspapers



Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.




 


 
May 15
Maxwell's picture

Happy

One 
Two 
Three
In 
Out 
Repeat
I count my steps and remind myself to breathe while waiting for you 
I pace back and forth trying to ease my mind 
One 
Two 
Three
In
Out
Repeat 
Then I saw you wearing a red suit and smiling at me
Suddenly pacing didn't seem necessary and the air filled my lungs easily 
You grabbed my hand and started walking then all I could think was 
Hand 
Smile 
Red 
I felt better with you there 
I felt better because you looked happy 
Hand 
Smile
Red 
May 15
Maxwell's picture

Happy

One 
Two 
Three
In 
Out 
Repeat
I count my steps and remind myself to breathe while waiting for you 
I pace back and forth trying to ease my mind 
One 
Two 
Three
In
Out
Repeat 
Then I saw you wearing a red suit and smiling at me
Suddenly pacing didn't seem necessary and the air filled my lungs easily 
You grabbed my hand and started walking then all I could think was 
Hand 
Smile 
Red 
I felt better with you there 
I felt better because you looked happy 
Hand 
Smile
Red 
May 13
poem 3 comments challenge: ListenUp
Hope_for_the_future's picture

93 Cents More

There was a boy at work, 
the keyword: was
He quit on a Monday, mad,
mad that someone earned more
than him. 

He was mad and quit 
over 6 percent, left 
over 93 cents.

He quit because, I, 
a girl, am paid 93 cents
more than him. 

Well, maybe now he 
knows the feeling 
of the female population 
everywhere, except
we don't quit. 
We fight for
what we deserve. 
 
May 13

SPRING FLOWERS

May 12

My Last Summer

May 12

Why I Write

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?
May 12

You are gone

Tall grass surrounds me
It bends ever so slightly in the wind.
Eastward I face watching the day begin
While stars diminish into the west.
I do not brush the hair away from my face
I do not move.
My hair gets stuck on my lips and waves in front of my vision.
The warm rays hit my face so I close
My eyes to keep the stars protected.
I have nothing to do today
Except wait, for you.
The clock in my head ticks, the sun is now directly above
But I still face east.
I wait longer the ticks keep going.
I realize that you won't come anymore 
So with one final tear and I walk away
Shaky but not afraid.
May 12
Prince's picture

Mother

The word encompasses all
Nature caring for her fragile children
A writer carefully crafting words she has written
A gardener nurturing plants she’s been given
Guiding a van down a road constantly driven

Mother
She helps flowers grow tall
For sun and cool water they’ve striven
It’s thanks to her for this life they’re living
The plants’ first growth is where we’re beginning
And her job never ends, perpetually trimming

Mother
Sometimes trees can fall
But she always replants them, grinning
Roots back in the ground, they’re winning
Drinking in golden water, sun never dimming
Once again in calm air they’re swimming

Mother
Vines climb up her wall
To her certain backbone they’re clinging
And they drink in the sun as it’s singing
And these vines grow strong from their pinning
To the wall, the gardener can watch them climbing

Mother
May 08

So Blank, So Full

Staring,
Watching,
Glaring,
Pouting,
Frowning,
At the blank page.
White.
So stark,
So harsh,
So empty.
The blank piece of paper.
Yes,
So blank.
And yet,
So full,
At the same time.
Full of thoughts not yet written,
Words not yet said,
Dreams not yet dreamed,
Full of everything,
And nothing,
At the same time.
So blank,
So full,
And so,
So,
Beautiful.
 
May 08
EllaKozak's picture

Underwater


Underwater I feel like I’m not on earth

It gives you this feeling of water and life

It gives me a second to be away from our loud noisy world

It lets me be in the moment
That feeling that you get nowhere else

Peace and harmony even though you can't hear anything

The water feels safe yet dangerous

It makes me aware and observant
Underwater it's a whole different world

Floating around, in space but on earth

Alone and isolated in a peaceful place

In your own bubble
You can’t talk, hear, smell but you can feel

Feel the water against your skin

See the light moving through the water

Feeling like underwater is where I am meant to be
 

Pages