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

All the Missing Spaces In Between: 
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)
Dry Flowers 
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
Every City Only the Edge of God
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)

Tiny Writes!
 
SDJ Sep 16
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