Sep 18

your mistake

you know that time of day
where the sun looks like it's ready to set
but hasn't quite reached the horizon yet
and your shadow chases you all the way home?
do you know that moment where the sun touches the ground 
and you're left wondering how it's possible
for such a beautiful 
wild thing to give in to gravity 
and lay down under its covers without complaint.
and do you know that time in the morning 
early, early morning
when the grass is heavy with dew 
and the stars are fading fast
do you know that feeling of joy 
that overwhelms you 
consumes you 
eats you up and fills you with a joy you can't explain 
when the sun comes back?
spreading its light on your eager face 
and warming your entire body 
that light 
created you
it created life 
but by shutting the sun out 
with your tall buildings
by dumping your trash in the ocean 
Sep 16
sophie.d's picture

Teach Me Climate

Editor's Note: Sophie Dauerman read this poem on the steps of Burlington City Hall at the Climate Strike on Friday, Sept. 20!

The first lab I ever worked in 
Was my backyard. 

I was a self-proclaimed botanist
Taught by the wildflowers in the woods,
And a soil stained flower encyclopedia.
I researched the yellow flowers bursting
Along the wood’s edge
And noticed 
Sep 14
poem 3 comments challenge: Colors

Daily Colors I bring to You

Morning alarm red,
Tiger stripes orange,
Baby blanket yellow,
Evening kale green,
Sunset over the ocean blue,
Star mobile purple,
5-year-old's lips pink,
Afternoon rain grey,
Polar bear's ears white,
Crying girl's iris black,
All people, no exceptions rainbow.
Sep 13
c.mcintire's picture


     As an eighth grader, a wonderful woman reached out to me, and said she did not have enough students for her upcoming humanitarian trip. I was ecstatic that she would reach out to me, and of course, I was ALL on board. When I was ten years old, my older sisters and dad went to Haiti on a similar trip. I wanted to do exactly what they did, as soon as I could. Immediately after I got the yes from my parents, I started fundraising. I knew that the Haiti trip changed my sisters' lives, and I couldn't wait to experience it for myself. 

Breaking The Ice

     Sara is new to her school in Mississippi. Ever since she was a little girl, she has been very shy. It’s the very first day and she knows nobody in her 7th grade class. She is scared to talk to them but doesn’t like being the awkward new girl who is always quit. She knows she will have to start talking to her classmates soon. 
    That night after school she went home and started thinking of something she could say to the other girls. Just after an hour of thinking she came up with four ways to break the ice between her and her classmates. 
    She made a list…

Observe the other students in her class and see who has similar interests as her. She then could say ‘Hey I like that too.’

Talk to another shy person that understands her point of view and how its hard to talk to new people.

Talk to one person that seems nice and become friends with them and their friends.
Sep 11


Blue-grey is the color of the ocean on a stormy day
A day when you can smell the battle of the wind and the water 
Blue-grey is the color of a sad woman's eyes, 
Eyes that haunt your memory for years because you did nothing to help her
Blue-grey is the color of my worn denim jeans 
The ones with the paint splatters and tears in the knees 
Blue-grey is the color of things that used to be wonderful 
That have now faded from use 
Blue-grey is feeling sad on a day when everyone says you should be happy 
It's that last week of winter where the snow is all melted and the air is heavy with hesitation 
Blue-grey is the feeling of finally finding what you need
After months of searching for what you had wanted 
Sep 10

Fifteen Countdown

The Challenge: CJP-Teens: What do adults get wrong about teenagers?

Counting backwards is never fun, 
especially when you're fifteen. 

Ten friends who misplaced their true selves, 
relentlessly searching the Lost and Found
which they find in the form of drugs. 

Nine contradictions of being a teenager:
you hate your family, you love your roots, you 
Sep 07

Where I'm From

Wrote this about a year ago and just rediscovered it.

   Where I’m from
   I’m no one
    Just taking up space under the dying sun where I’m from
   Where I’m from
   You buy your fun
   I can’t forget the things I’ve done where I‘m from 
Every time I woke up I was a little surprised
And I wondered why I kept myself alive
And god knows this place was ready to die
But it was all I’d ever known
And I only ever meant to pass you by
But your home looks so pretty from up in the sky
It’s been a long way and I’m fixing to die
I should’ve thought of that before I left home
But when you looked at me with that empty, burning stare
And you looked right on through my eyes as if I wasn’t there
You took me right on back to the place where I was before
With the stagnant, dirty air
Full of faces I can’t recall anymore
You know I’m not unused to being alone
Audio download:
Where I'm From.mp3
Sep 06

Dear Ken Cuccinelli

THE CHALLENGE: CPJ-ImmigrantKen Cuccinelli, acting director of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, said in an interview that Emma Lazarus’s words on the Statue of Liberty should read, “Give me your tired and your poor who can stand on their own two feet and who will not become a public charge.” If you could respond directly to Cuccinelli, what would you say?

It is the same thing day by day. 
Sep 05
Kittykatruff's picture


Do you ever feel
that your eyes could close
and you linger upon the same thought
for a moment too long
Then you're suddenly fast asleep;

your mind works overtime 
to juggle the daily happenings,
with a soothing buzz in the background
behind your train of thought,
a lovely image
of a cup of cocoa,
curling up on a couch,
letting Dreams take you 
somewhere else for awhile.

I think I'll lay my pen down now
and let these words melt into
taking me far beyond my room,
the spice-scented pines,
the rolling green hills
and rocky shores on the coast,
and leave behind the worries of today,
and leaving Tomorrow to its course;

My eyes are closed, yet
now I see all the world
in a million undiscovered colors.

Let me dream awhile, if you please.
Let Tomorrow wake me up
after a good night's sleep!
Sep 05

The Clockwork of High School

Are we all one burning torch?

Is my head just a shell for their money? 
Is the sky a hole? 

Am I another cog in the wheel of time?
Stuck as another piece in the repetitive
puzzled cycle of knowledge,
pressure, and ignorance?

My mind is a kettle
and you are boiling it over. 

Come. Remove your heat from underneath. 
I have started to wail. 
Sep 05
poem 4 comments challenge: Colors

Color Circus

Colors popping,
Bursting every second,
Like a busy carnival circus
Do they jump and play.
Look, there's Summer Lilac,
and Winter Evergreen.
Oh, look at that;
Sandy Beaches Beige;
Rainy Day Blue,
Mustang Red,
Bumblebee Yellow,
Witching Hour Black...
Sep 03

to hear the trees talk

Hiding beneath a blanket of daylight, 
I hear them. 

They don't know I'm here, 
a human buried in their presence,

listening to them hum their language of old 
twisted tongue and the wind whistling 

between their teeth. 
The sun's rays move around their bodies,

and they titter at the thought of being 
draped in robes of solar power. 

They imagine the bugs crawling 
on their limbs are pets, 

giving them names to dote upon, 
the birds are their friends,

the fox slinking nearby
a stranger. 

The trees entertain
the idea of humans, 

the same way we humor the view of a dog. 
But beneath that, a hint of loathing, 

a whisper of war in their hearts. 
We have killed too many of them, 

their kind cut in half 
as we cut them with axes. 

To be a tree is to be ethereal, 
Sep 02

space girl

don't take up too much
girl, don't let your body
grow soft and
like the universe
around   you, because
only men are allowed
to take up as much
s   p   a   c   e
as they want,
and if your thighs grow together
like a
they will never want you.

don't let yourself take-up
too little space girl,
n o b o d y thinks that
ribs are attractive,
real women, real women,
they have curves
don't you want to be
a REAL woman one day, too?

be quiet, girl,
don't let those ideas of yours
E            P            O            E
       X            L             D
our of your mouth,
don't make THE MAN 
feel little, don't make him feel stupid,
l a c k i n g.
Sep 01
Treblemaker's picture

YWP is...

YWP is... something, that's for sure.
It's like being at the dinner table with everyone who thinks as you do
Who has your sense of humor.
And everyone has a place at the table,
No one is pushed to the side,
pushed to the next room,
everyone is included. 
And each person brings their own dish to share
And no two dishes are the same
Some are in plates, others in pots
Each has a unique aroma and flavor,
a different spice,
Some people have been cooking for a long time
Others just started,
But no one says one dish is better than the other,
No one eats only what he brought. 
Everyone tries a different platter
makes suggestions on how to make it better
More flavorful,
Baked to perfection.
We share recipes too.
Challenge each other to push our cooking skills 
Coax one another to try a new technique. 
And we always respect one another,
Aug 31


Alone but not lonely

The world’s mine for the taking

I wonder how

To pretend I’m not breaking

I used to dream in colors

But they’ve faded away

I stand at imagination’s gates

The only color in my grey

My movie is ending

The stars share one last kiss

Popcorn thrown on the floor

Each kernel, a wish.

In my head I’m falling

I speak in rose petals

My smile’s full of sunshine

But encased in cold metal.

The future, the past

It’s all a big blur

I want things as they will be

Not as they were.

In silence, I’m scared

But words make me stronger

If letters were currency

Then I would finally prosper

But the spotlight is on me

My eyes are beaming with pride

 I’m starting to look for myself
Aug 30
poem 1 comment challenge: Nonverbal
JordanSara's picture

Dear Friend,

I used to hate silence
the unending weight
spiraling into the abyss
with no aim
no goal
and nothing to be gained.
For years I filled my life with sound
music and meaningless conversations,
all to fill the hole
and yet I felt empty,
knew that my existence was silent.
 I continued on with the same uncaring voices to give me...
something to feel less alone.
But like all false things, those voices
eventually slithered away in the night and
 I feared I was destined to
in the emptiness.

When I met you,
I thought it would be the same
that I had to fill the empty air
for you to care.
But one day we fell into silence,
conversation a burden to our tired minds,
so we simply lounged together.
Yet I didn't feel you slipping away into the chasm,
I didn't feel that I had to say
one breath-filled 
For once, the silence was good
Aug 29
poem 0 comments challenge: General

The Carnival

Stomping rocking rolling brightly colored feathers all together one for all through flight and fall all these people who you don't really know and your friends
Is smelling aromas of food light brightly colored costumes the show is going on and on and on and on forever it seems like but
Finally the fireworks! Your tired souls of feet and spirit lean against each other all the people in that one together mass
Watch the fireworks.


The colors

Spark your memory

Beats and fluid ways of the day all are one, the show, the rhthym, the way we move, together the smells the sights the overstimulation is


(Are beautiful, see them?)

Aug 29

8 ways

I’m scared

I’m scared of the power you have over me

I’m petrified that if I lose you it will break me

I’m frightened of what I’ll do for u

I’m frantic about how about this will go

I’m agitated that you're not giving me your all

I’m fearful that you don’t have my back

I’m horrified that you might be using me

I’m afraid of what is happening to me.

Aug 28


  He wears a crown upon his head
He holds a weapon in his hand
He drags his fingers through the sand
  He holds his poison in his teeth
He knows he hardly has to think
He breathes in sound and spits up ink
And he is blinded by his own light
And he knows no one taught him to fight
Oh, Anthony, talk to me
Oh, Anthony
Just breathe,    breathe
  He throws his ring onto the ground
She throws him out and makes him run
He reaches for his only son
 His lyrics fall on soundless ears
He holds a pocketful of pills
He knows the chaser is what kills
But he knows someone stands behind the lens
And he knows she’ll be there when the vision ends
Oh, Anthony, talk to me
Oh, Anthony
Just breathe,    breathe
  He knows he’ll die the way he lived
He’s so afraid he doesn’t care
He reaches for the empty air
  He keeps it all inside his head
Audio download: