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Young Writers Project is grateful to, a nonprofit news operation in Vermont, for publishing selected YWP writing, art and photos each week. Please support the young writers and artists by going to and leaving a comment. These pieces are selected for publication by YWP staff, mentors and this site's Community Leaders. If you wish to participate in the selection, contact YWP Executive Director Susan Reid.

Aug 05
Eloise Silver Van Meter's picture

My Desires

Here is what I know:
When I feel something personal and meaningful,
my belly bubbles up inside
My mind begins to expand
and explore,
pondering future possibilities.
I become ensure of what to do with the swirling
and my flushed cheeks––
all my past knowings are turned to
grains of salt
and I begin to consider all of the other perspectives.

That is how I want to feel every day.

I want my perceived ideas to be challenged
and my ideals to be questioned.
I want to wonder why I think what I think
and why you think what you think.

I should be curious about all things:
How the happenings in my small community reflect those of a larger state.
Why certain pigments look so incredibly pleasing together.
Why the vision of the earth which nurtures all life is so surreal.
Why I have been conditioned to view unnatural even harmful things as beautiful.
Aug 03
poem 1 comment challenge: Legacy

The persistence of memory


On my notebook, nestled in the corner
among glued-on stars, are the words
second law of thermodynamics.

It means, literally, that entropy always increases.
It implies that one day, the very last star will run out of
nuclear fuel and everything, anything,
will cease to exist.

I chose to have those words there as a
reminder of my impermanence,
that simple scientific law
turns the pages back to sun-drinking trees in my hands, my
hands back to dust.

What I’m trying to say is I don’t need a legacy.

I don’t need my name up in lights.
But I would like it in the wind and seasalt and dandelions, so
burn me when I die.

I don’t need my name to go down in history.
the infinity before and the infinity after anyone said it
will all be the same to me.

What a distracting concept.
Jul 29

Tear yourself apart

Tell her that she’s beautiful, 
and watch her smile before 
she devours the compliment up 
lapping at every last honey drop 
at her fingers because she’s 
been starved for so long, 
and what is a girl without 
other people to tell her  
the value that she has? 

Tell her that she’s skinny 
and she will beam before 
looking in the mirror and tracing 
the outline of her ribs with 
her paper fingers, half human 
half ghost, so thin she’s almost gone
hunger was never beautiful, 
this animal eating her up from inside. 

Tell her that she’s hot and 
look at her short skirt like it’s 
the only part of her that matters and she’ll 
shoot you a grin before tugging down 
her dress as a sense of anxiety creeps 
in her mind because everyone knows 
what happens to girls with too-short dresses
walking alone at night, 
grips her keys between her fingers and 
Jul 25


This place is absolutely beautiful. 
Our rental house is right next to the Yellowstone river. :)

why would anyone use explosives to procure fish???
Takes all the fun out of it.
Jul 24

Monochrome Photos

I explored black and white photography today! 
Jul 20
serenamae2020's picture


When everyone is on an equal playing field. 
The same amount of money is around the board,
all of the properties belong to the bank, 
and the only thing holding you back 
is a roll of the dice. 

You start to move around the board. 
People start to buy a place or two,  
chance cards are read, 
it's less equal but who cares 
because you're having fun? 

Someone has a property you want, 
and you go to the edge of the earth
to get it because
you NEED that last orange
to start building your empire. 

You keep landing on the only hotel on the board, 
and the owner is getting cocky, 
flush with money, 
and the $900 you spent on houses
just isn't panning out like you hoped. 

In a last-ditch effort to save yourself, 
you try to make a deal for extra cash
Jul 11
Monster_T_02's picture

My Soul Is Returning

I know I may not be the best,
Nor is my mind the greatest,
But I do know my heart still beats,
With the  purest of intent.

My mind may still weep,
My soul may still cry,
But I will not allow myself,
To lay down,
And die.

My hope is slowly returning,
My garden I will replant,
Self love I am still learning,
And strengthening like an ant.

My path is very shaky,
And monsters still jump out,
But seven years is all I need,
to clean my skeltons out.

Seven year in cells,
I will be a new being,
And my body will be cleansed,
From all their wrongdoings.

Your body is renewed,
After seven years,
Every cell is replaced;
The thought brings me to tears.

One day they will not touch me,
My body will not be their's,
I will be a new person,
Without all these trivial fears.

My mind my still be shifts,
Jul 06
sophie.d's picture

The Good Thoughts Project

Hi YWP writers! I’m Sophie Dauerman (sophie.d on YWP). I started the initiative Good Thoughts, which is a project supported by Young Writers Project and designed to share your inspiring words with the Vermont community.
Jul 04


Jun 18

Don't forget

some days I feel like a painting
flung against the wall.
sometimes I forget my worth and
feel like nothing at all.
but we all have our ups and downs,
we all have our rainy days,
the times that we feel lonely and
the sun is covered in haze.
but do not forget your patience,
do not forget your home,
do not forget to free yourself and
let your confidence roam.
so do not forget your passions,
do not forget your heart,
do not forget your ending and
you'll always know where to start.
Jun 17

Proud to Be a Muslim Woman

Judge us, because we're Muslim.
Call us "terrorists," because we're Muslim.
Think we dress like clowns, because we're Muslim.
Scared of us, because we're Muslim.
Treat us like animals, because we're Muslim.
Think we are violent, because we're Muslim.

But all of these negative thoughts and hate won't destroy us --
because we are faithful, strong, and loving.

Don't judge us because we're Muslim.
We are not "terrorists" because we're Muslim.
We dress beautifully because we're Muslim.
We are not scary because we're Muslim.
We are not animals because we're Muslim.
We are peaceful because we're Muslim.

I'm proud to be a Muslim woman.

- Dalya Almogalli, Edmunds Middle School
May 30's picture

Time Travel

    Some people have dreamt up ways to travel into the past or future. In movies and books we see people using cars, phone booths, and Time-Turners, to name a few. Others are actively looking for a way. They appeal to science and magic, hoping that they will find ways to transport our bodies to events that took place long ago, so that we can witness (and maybe even change) the course of history.

    Some people think that time-travel is impossible. But I know a way—a way that is quick and accessible, ready for me almost anytime and anywhere. By accident I have discovered that the simple power of a song can catapult me into the past. I’ll be scrolling through lists of songs in the search of an old favorite, and suddenly, without warning, I am flung into the projects, the classes, the places and the feelings of the past as if I’d never left that time, that place, that moment…
May 27


May 25

Second Home

May 21


A clink and splash 
From a full glass of water
Gets my senses started.
I watch the
Big glass with green stripes
Around it 
Wondering and 
Why a simple glass can get me tingling.
I know why.
At the very thought of this word
I'm pulled 
First to the ocean
Melodic waves
Lap the shore
Reminding me of warm 
And cool
Water. Floating among the salty, open sea
I feel more mysefl than ever. 
Zip... and I'm in 
The above ground pool 
With flecks of grass in it
Swimming like
A seal, smooth
Like cream. 
Again, a change 
And I have been transported 
To the lake
The cold tingling
The slide off the dock
The shouts of ectasy.
The pool again
Then, the ocean
Back to the lake
And then with a whoosh...... 
I'm staring at the 
May 10


May 08

Master of the Beach

She wore her hair short - short like mine, and like most of the women close to me in my family. My Mom, Mor Mor, and Nana all wear this style, too. We like to think of ourselves as trendsetters. When I cut my hair, I could see the pride glistening in Nana’s eyes. The non-traditional tradition carries on. Her hair is a mix of gray and black, “salt and pepper,” as she calls it. I can see why. Unlike hers, mine shines yellow like the rays on a summer day.
May 08

Have you ever heard toads singing?

Have You Ever Heard Toads Singing?
May 06

Do You Ever Feel Like A Flower In The Sun?

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,
Apr 27


'Wander' They said.
'Wander the world.'
'Test the limits.'
So I do.
So I wander.
And I explore.
In the day:
The grass is strokes from a painter's paintbrush.
The sun is a ball of laughter.
The trees are proof of resilience.
The river is the sky liquified.
The clouds are balls of fluffy cotton.
At night:
The grass is tinged with what looks almost like frost.
The moon is peace.
The trees are guardians against nightmares.
The river is molten silver.
The clouds are but a whisper, a lullaby just for me.
Wandering has showed me the colors of the world.
Wandering has proved worth while.
But next time I wander,
I want a friend, to share the wonder with.