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Over the years some of YWP's most active community members have attended two-week sessions with the Governor's Institute on the Arts. They always find the sessions transformative. YWP has a particular bias toward one of the leaders, another G by the name of Geof Hewitt, the grand master of slam, poetry and general fun. Some of you may have had a YWP session with Geof and know how great he is.
(NOTE: He will be leading another raucous slam poetry workshop on APRIL 11 from 10-noon at Fletcher Free Library in Burlington.)
The sessions are from June 28-July 12 at Castleton State College and include other arts programs in dance, theatre, sculpture, music, graphic arts, fiction, etc...
You must have completed 9th grade to apply. Tuition is on a sliding scale starting at $20 depending on family income. DEADLINE to apply is April 1.
AND HERE'S THE TRICKY PART: Go to this link http://www.giv.org/applynow/ to apply, but ignore the earlier DEADLINES associated with specific schools. AND, if you see your school, apply via THAT link. If you don't see your school, apply via the appropriate link at the top. Please choose the "apply online" process.
Go! Do it! Now!
Thanks to all who came out to Thursday's poetry open mic at Fletcher Free Library.
And prepare for a slew of poetry events in April! Attend a special Saturday workshop from 10 a.m. - 2 p.m. on April 11th with slam poet extraordinaire, Geof Hewitt. Join us for a screening of Louder than a Bomb on April 14th at 6 p.m. and see how slam poetry changed Chicago forever. Check out the trailer here. And mark your calendars for special Poetry Month edition of the Third Thursday Slam on April 16th...with surprise guests!
Final slam of the year is May 21.
Check out the photo gallery from the last event! Click "Read More."
Free admission. Free pizza.
Keep writing! We want to publish YOU in The Voice! AND record yourself giving a dramatic reading of your work! Or add photos! And remember to send photos, illustrations etc. for the Photo/Art Challenge to email@example.com!
HELP SOLVE CLIMATE CHANGE | SAVE THE PLANET | WIN FAME AND CASH!
The Challenge: Use the power of YOUR words, images, audio and/or video to combat climate change. Respond to one of three prompts (read on for details) to win BIG PRIZES and be part of a statewide Vermontivate! celebration. First place: $100 | Second place: $75 | Third place: $50 | Plus many coupons, gifts and accolades!
People are a lot like pencils
At some points, we just... break.
We always want to erase our mistakes
but after a while there isn’t any eraser to erase with.
Others shave us down,
trying to strip us down from the part
that matters the most.
But we can always be sharpened again.
Unless we get too short.
For most people Vermont is that pretty picture sitting on your mantelpiece, the chartreuse colored fields, leading up to British-racing-green mountains, with the clear blue skies overhead providing the perfect background for that round barn on top of a bluff.
They lay together in her basement, him sitting on the couch with her head in his lap. She sprawled out perpendicular to him, on her belly with her legs swaying in the air. Her chin jutted into the valley between his legs, eyes intent upon a book.
"Have you ever thought about how love is just a bunch of chemical signals?" It was abrupt, but this he was used to, especially from her.
I feel most alive at night.
While days burn the eyes with intensity, from the bright colors of teen tees to the luminescent glow of sun in New England to the glare of snow to plain yellow light that seeps into the towns and cities. While all that occurs, there is always the safe reassurance of night, where those colors dim and blend in the shadows. Without light, there is no color.
Sound is just waves traveling through the gases in the atmosphere, pounding our ears.
I sometimes sit and wonder
what you were thinking when you did it.
Was your life so bad,
that it just had to end?
I remember the fields that day,
when you set out to paint.
I could never understand,
why they mesmerized you so,
like your swirls of blazing stars
in twilight blue light
could hold me in your cluttered house for hours each day.
You never liked to clean,
preferred a cluttered pallet.
I tried once,
do you remember?
Sometimes I wonder if you even remember.
If someone, something, like you has the capacity
I wonder if you ever even knew that what you took wasn't yours,
what I gave wasn't for you,
that you weren't good enough,
nor evil enough
to know you were not good.
Tell me, what did I look like to you when you found me?
What did you see that you wanted to own
was it my freedom?
Did I look beautiful to you?
I've never before been
so it's interesting to see the stares.
I've never had people look at me
solely because of my skin.
It's odd, being new.
People slow down their cars