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The Daily Read

Mar 23
zazu's picture

Rainbow at night

An ambulance siren wails through the night,
Its pitch rising and falling in the crisp winter air.
Pedestrians scurry on the sidewalk, many floors below my bedroom window,
And I could wonder:
Where are they going?
What are they thinking?
But I will never know as I sit and gaze out over the city.
The city that never sleeps.
An explosion of light in the darkness,
With shimmering skyscrapers,
And tall buildings, that glow over streets, shedding their light.

I zip up my jacket, and open my apartment door.
My boots tap softly on the hall carpet.
I ride the elevator down to the lobby,
And then go out into the street.
Outside, where the only view is at eye level.

It makes me feel small to know that someone could be looking down at me right now,
The way I looked at them.

Recent Daily Reads

Mar 22

Home

Because I am graduating this year it finally hit me that I'd have to leave and I had a crisis about it, so I wrote a poem about it.
Enjoy.


I used to be embarrassed to say that I am from Winooski. 
I would lie, hide, do whatever I could to disguise it.
And point out every flaw I could to try to distance myself if I was ever found out. 
Now,
As we are honing in on these last few months,
Where soon I will actually have to leave,
I don't want to. 
It has recently dawned upon me how much this school and community has had an impact on who I am and who I will become once my tassel goes right to left and I exit these doors once and for all.
So I suppose I'm writing this as a thank you. 
Thank you to the student body, teachers, administration, everybody that has seen me cry and heard me say hundreds of times that all I want to do is fail and drop out, but then taking me over and over, and helping me succeed. 
Mar 22
fiction 2 comments challenge: Twist
layla.h's picture

A Morning Stroll

It can get so lonely sometimes. These days I’m finding it harder and harder to get out—these old bones won’t last much longer; I know that someday soon I will fade away to nothing—but I can only bear to go so long without seeing the sun. So this morning, I took a walk.

When I first stepped out into the sunshine, I couldn’t help but feel positively overwhelmed by it all—the warmth, the light, the scent of grass and the sound of birdsong; and most of all the memories it brought me. I saw myself in that spring landscape. It was as if I were watching a picture film of my life.

There, just atop that hill, I knelt as a child in my blue Easter dress and inspected the patch of daffodils before me. I would choose the best ones to bring home to my mother. I can still remember the way she smiled and swept me up into her arms when I returned home, careful not to crush the delicate blooms I was clutching in my small fist. Daffodils were her favorite flower.

Listen ...

Mar 18

To all the people who hate Muslims

To all the people who hate Muslims.

Do I scare you? They call it Islamophobia after all.

Do I scare you? Does my family scare you?

Let me give you a summary of us, in case you didn’t really know us all that well.

Me,
Standing at about 5 foot 2 inches,
With big, bushy, fuzzy hair
And a penchant for zoning out and
Always having graphite-stained fingers.

My sister,
10 years old, who once made
Her own little snack dispenser
Out of a cardboard box and some tape.

My father,
Who makes us pancakes in the mornings,
Who loves gardening and prides himself
On making food out of our own vegetables
In the summers.

My mother,
Who drinks more tea than seems humanly possible
who’s just finishing up her dissertation now,
And loves dancing to any song, anywhere.

Are you scared of us? Because that seems a little silly at this point, doesn’t it?
Mar 21
Kittykatruff's picture

In the School Hallway

Around, around, around
words surround me like a song;
the beautiful dissonance
sounds both right and strangely wrong—

Parts of conversations 
fly as mosquitos through the air,
their insistent whines knocking
on my resistant ears,

Snippets find my mind, ringing,
hints of others' lives:
"We got a dog!" "She's so rude"
"Do you want to hang out tonight?"

Around, around, around, 
I'm whirling in the song;
Just one note in a melody,
one person in the throng.
Mar 08

Alive

I want this moment to last forever
Because I feel nothing but happiness 
Nothing but love
Nothing but excitement.
A few clouds will drift back into my sky later
But for now
In this snapshot second 
My heart is beating strongly
My head is thrown back and I’m laughing
The snow is swirling around
And I feel alive.

 
Mar 18

Lemons


Broken rulers have no way to measure, and 
I think fragile is another word for scared to fall. 
Dusty lemons make me feel sick,
and I take back everything I just said. 
Lemon scented letters-
Hands are wild adventurers.
Iris thinks the world should move slower. 



(*written using cut-up poetry technique* from Angela Palm's Writing Like the Beat Poets workshop, March 16)
Mar 16

to live


to live with purpose is
to see the world in singing starlight
a beguiling black canvas
studded with moments of
existential ecstacy

a star to every time
we have raised our voices
against the thunder
and became the vein
of light which shot
into the hearts of darkness

a moon to every minute
we listened
so that every word dropped
into our wellsprings
of knowledge
or so the speaker
could rest with the knowledge
that somebody listened.

 
Mar 15
tobin's picture

Imaginary Friend

I think that most toddlers have some kind of imaginary friend. When I was around two years old I had an imaginary sister.

My imaginary sister was a jack of all trades but most of the time she was a truck driver. Whenever we went on a road trip I would spend most of the time looking out the window for semi trucks. Every time one went by, I would say “look, it's my sister's truck” and then tell anyone who was listening how amazing my sister was or how many trucks she drove.

My second favorite thing for my imaginary sister to do was come for dinner. Most nights I would tell everyone in my family that my sister was coming for dinner. Being imaginary she never showed. Every time she missed a dinner my excuse was, she was driving a semi truck and was out of town.

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Dec 07
YWP's picture

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Dec 11

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Weekly Challenges

Aug 03

Frost

Read the Robert Frost poem, “Design.” In describing the industrious spider and the flower, he says so much more. Choose a simple plant or animal and create a poem in the style of Frost.
[YWP Photo Library, photo by Tess LaLonde]
Aug 03

Prophecies

Classic stories and myths are full of prophecies. Write about a character who is warned about a future event. Do they listen? What’s the source of the messages? Is the oracle thing legit or is it made up?
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Mar 01

Road Trips for Student Journalists

YWP's friend Mary Simons of Conversations from the Open Road is planning three trips this summer for student journalists -- NYC, Maine, Oregon & Washington. Find out more here! 
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Mar 21

Essex Students take on Plastic