Discover and read the best of Twitter Threads about #poetry

Most recents (24)

This is the email I wake up to from one of the longest sitting board members of the national literary organization I am in. This is why #publishingsowhite #PublishingPaidMe #bookcriticismsowhite #BookReviewingsowhite
This is the person who is directly deciding what books win prizes, what books get reviewed and who reviews books. This directly affects how much money authors can negotiate for their next book. This is why #publishingsowhite matters. #BookReviewingsowhite
Read 10 tweets
Conversation with myself

Each line alternates

Think / Stormborn / Think / Stormborn etc


Hello Stormborn

Hello Think

How are you?

I’m good, let’s drink

Grab a chair

Where’s your Wellers?

Over there

12 year! I’m jealous

#onelove #GreatAwakening #GodWins
I like mine neat

So do I

Then have a seat

Much obliged

Let us toast

Raise your glass

Here’s to hope

Yes cheers to that

I ❤️ u fren

I ❤️ u too

Praise Amen!

Ain’t that the truth!

How’s your thunder?

Loud & rumbling

Bless the summer!

Yes it’s humbling
& your lightning?

Making flames!

You’re so exciting

Like your brain

They call me Think

& I’m Stormborn

So let us drink

Then drink some more

To memories

& coming times

Yes! Destiny

& what’s to find


I like your mind
Read 4 tweets
~ We are the cities, we love ~

It’s 1989 — Monsoon in Multan
A city, known for its heat and dust storms
A city, in the middle of plains
Where sun reigns with its full might

It’s early morning, I am laying under a roof
Where arches, let the morning breeze flow

#Poetry #Multan
I’m still very young, hugged by my mother
I can feel the wind ruffle her hair, and she’s holding me in her embrace — cuddled in her heart
And the thunderstorm comes in, the morning goes dark
And the the first shower is hitting the ground
The wind now carries soothing fragrance
Earth-kissed fragrance of Multan’s core
And the little rain droplets are now covering my mothers face
She whispers and wakes me up, saying — wake up
It’s your favourite monsoon — the sky’s bosom is covered
Under the chalet of dark monsoon clouds, there’s little
Read 8 tweets
Day #6

Magnets Holding Down Memories
On Refrigerator Doors

One drawer at a time
I reacquaint myself
With my home

Memories come back
Gifts, photos, coins, notes
Birthdays cards
Years old

Time has flown
I think to myself
Presence of people
Waxed and waned 1/3
Like the the phases
Of the moon
The refrigerator door
Remembers more
About my life
Than I do

Holidays merged
Into workdays
Into weekdays
So many
So many lines
And timelines
A life

Slow down
Erase those lines 2/3
Relish, while you can...
Let time merge
Bake that cake
Beat that coffee
Put those feet
Today... ☕ 3/3

#StayHome #lockdown #rethink #reboot #baking #brooding #poetry #lifelessons
Read 3 tweets

Odd Woman Out

"She's an artist."

That's what they told me when I saw her at the wake,
slender, striking, wearing a black leather jacket,
a jaunty beret and looking nothing like the familiar
dowdy aunts and cousins.
I liked the clothes she wore
and thought she was pretty, but old.

I was a little girl – maybe five,
and you know how that is – anyone past thirtyish seems ancient.
I'll bet she was not as old as I am now.
I remember her black hair and aristocratic features,
although at five I wouldn't have known that word.

I knew I'd never seen her before,
not at Christmastime or picnics
or any other family to-do;
I wouldn't forget a face like that.
Read 8 tweets
When I wrote my 1st novel, I won New Crimewriter Of The Year on the strength of the 1st 3 chapters. That was all I'd written of it. Then the publisher, @HarperCollinsUK wanted the rest, obviously. I was about to go on tour with @officialnma so I bought a
cheap 2nd hand laptop & wrote whilst on the tour bus at night after the gigs, behind the tshirt stall where I was working, in hotels on days off. Merchandising on tour is hard physical labour. It was very tiring. Sometimes as I typed at the front of the bus
while it went through Poland in a snowstorm or wherever, the dark outside the windows a swirl of goose feathers and the endless night forests, my colleagues would lurch up the corridor between the bunks and ask for updates on the story.
Read 16 tweets
A Christmas prayer
amid a raging world

#poetry #poetrycommunity

cover the tree with ornaments
wrap your home with blinking red lights
make a plate of fat chocolate chip cookies
and then pray that Santa makes all of his flights
the Yuletide specters have formed a choir
and they’re singing outside your of door;
a couple of songs of a hope that’s born again
and a lovelyullabu about the end of all war
there’s a pair of used wine glasses in the sink
and a couple plates that smell of old gravy
the proud feast that has come and gone was
held in the honor of a 2000 year old baby
Read 16 tweets
by Robert Herrick, 1648

The hag is astride
This night for to ride,
The devil and she together ;
Through thick and through thin,
Now out and then in,
Though ne'er so foul be the weather.
A thorn or a burr
She takes for a spur,
With a lash of a bramble she rides now ;
Through brakes and through briars,
O'er ditches and mires,
She follows the spirit that guides now.
No beast for his food
Dare now range the wood,
But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking ;
While mischiefs, by these,
On land and on seas,
At noon of night are a-working.
Read 5 tweets
RESOURCES FOR WRITERS: a list of organisations, opportunities & support, which you really ought to have on your writerly radar, and which I wish had been on my own radar earlier in my career. Hope you find them useful. #thread #amwriting #writer
If you're a writer, join @Soc_of_Authors. They're great advocates for writers' rights, & offer PDF guides on working as a writer, specific advice on contracts etc for members & discounts on books! They also offer grants for work in progress & run annual awards.
@Soc_of_Authors Anyone in the arts should be aware of @ace_national (or @CreativeScots / @Arts_Wales_ / @ArtsCouncilNI, depending where you're based). They support writers through fundings opportunities - for individuals & organisations.
Read 31 tweets
A cut not too deep

It's sad and lonely
Never felt this numb
With so much pain and emotions unexpressed
Just like the artist expresses better on the canvas but this time my torso and limb is my canvas

With the razor on my wrist
I cut a little deep, not too deep
I feel so much pleasure in those cuts
Even if I push further I would still not mind

Springs of red fountain flows endless
Dripping with every cut
That's my only way of hiding from my
From my fears and demons
It seem overwhelming but with another not too deep a cut I can feel safe again
Atlas this time the cut had severe a vein and the not too deep a cut becomes a pool that I am soaked in.
Read 4 tweets
Confession time: For the past seven years, I have been writing and publishing using a male heteronym. Now my/his first book is available! You know you want to read it...…
Of course, I've also been publishing under my own name. The heteronym, Elosham Vog, is a fully-formed character with his own interests and writing style. He's also part of a grand experiment related to gender and publishing.
Each time I submit to a journal or press, so does Elosham, from his own email and submittable accounts. I try to make our emails sound different, but I'm only one it's surprising how different our reception/replies can be.
Read 22 tweets
My Own #Poetry


🌹 آدھا خط 🌹


سوچا اس کو دل کا حال سنا ڈالیں
کل کا کیا ہے آج ہی آج بتا ڈالیں،

جو بھی ٹھیک غلط ہے اس کو لکھتے ہیں
ایک ذریعہ خط ہے اس کو لکھتے ہیں،

پھر سوچوں کے تانے بانے بن بن کے
لفظوں سے کچھ لفظ ملاٸے چن چن کے،

جاری ہے۔۔۔۔۔


بھولی بھالی صورت والے بات سنو
پھولوں جیسی رنگت والے بات سنو،

کتنے اچھے کتنے پیارے لگتے ہو
میرے دل کے راج دلارے لگتے ہو،

تم بن تنہا تنہا جینا مشکل ہے
ہجر کا زہر پیالہ پینا مشکل ہے،

سینے میں اک سانس کی آری چلتی ہے
قطرہ قطرہ عمر ہماری کٹتی ہے۔

جاری ہے۔۔۔۔


یوں ہم قسطوں میں روزانہ مرتے ہیں
جیون کا تاوان ادا ہم کرتے ہیں،

جیون جیسے لمبی کالی رات کوٸی
کوٸی دیپ ہے اور نہ ہاتھ میں ہاتھ کوٸی،

گھپ اندھیاری کو تابندہ رکھتا ہے
تیری یاد کا جگنو زندہ رکھتا ہے،

دل میں ہم دلگیروں کا احساس رکھو،
ہم کو اپنے پاس بلاٶ پاس رکھو،

Read 5 tweets

Elisa Chávez @Seattle_Slam
#poem titled ‘Revenge’

“Since you mention it, I think I will start that race war. I could’ve swung either way? But now I’m definitely spending the next YEAR
(my edit: was “4 years”)

converting your daughters to lesbianism;”
2/ “Revenge” continued

“I’m gonna eat all your guns.
Swallow them lock stock and barrel
& spit bullet casings onto the dinner table; I’ll give birth to an army of mixed-race babies....”
—Elisa Chávez,
poetry slam Seattle 👏
3/ “Revenge” cont

“W/ fathers from every continent & genders to outnumber the ⭐️s,
my legion of multiracial babies will be intersectional as fuck
& your swastikas will not be enough to save you, because real talk, you didn’t stop the future from coming...”
—Elisa Chávez,
Read 14 tweets
X rated

of that nite it has been said
twas the night 4 him she bled
When she wept upon a bed
he never slept in yet instead
A bed he kept 4 when he fed
completely made in shades of red claret sheets & scarlet spreads
Garnet pillows cased & edged
With crimson lace & ruby threads
On her back outstretched she led
1 of his hands up 2 her head
The other hand he helpd her she’d
The dress tht hid her flesh tht pled
Now it’s his 2 rip&shred
What innocence that hadn’t fled
Then she looked @ him & said
“Time 2 fuck me while I beg!
Bite my neck & fuck me dead”
Wrote 10 years ago

Bout a vampire & his all too willing victim

#GreatAwakenning #Poetry
Read 3 tweets
Thinking about my #teachers always make me emotional and nostalgic. Somedays that nostalgia just comes back stronger and you feel like being in that place one last time...more

But, then mind takes over heart and explains that eve if you go to that place you won’t find the same teachers as either they are now retired or moved on to some other school.

I was loved by my teachers or at least that’s my belief. They gave me this nurturing warmth and it was actually something I always looked forward to every morning.

Read 11 tweets

Unarguably, Islam is one of the fastest growing religions of the world, with over 1.8 billion adherents, according to Wikipedia statistics. It is a religion which preaches peace, sanity, humanness and goodness to all, no matter the differences.
This religion, notwithstanding its genuine nature and its message of peace, is seen as a threat. Since ages, the undiluted truth that Islam carries has always been a torn pricking the preachers of falsehood and taunting them each time they see an element of Islam in anyone or
anything. This brought about the enemies of Islam dragging Islam into the middle of controversies, but their plots has never for once prevailed, because Islam is not a controversial religion. The light of Islam can never be extinguished.

In seeing to the prevalence of Islam over
Read 31 tweets
We're about to start our second Open Research Seminar for this term: Professor Michael Burke on The Language of Julia Donaldson: Rhetoric, Style and Cognition. Special thank you to #CRCLC PhD candidate Vera Veldhuizen for putting together today's seminar #kidlit #ChildrensBooks
Michael Burke takes from Classical Rhetoric to Cognitive Linguistics and explains how he went from being a professor of rhetoric and a linguist to a scholar of children's literature - spolier alert: being a parent was involved #kidlit #ChildrensBooks
Michael Burke cites the work of current #CRCLC chair, Professor Maria Nikolajeva, and future #CRCLC chair, Professor Karen Coats, inspired his thinking on cognitive linguistics, alongside the experience of reading out aloud to his children #kidlit #ChildrensBooks
Read 12 tweets
pepe's friends

a bird comes up 2 me & says
"Fly away!Go fly away!"
but this cricket says instead
"Just stay with me & play!"
in this forest full of life
who's path does seem 2 darken
do i go forth fearing strife
or remain disheartened?
#poetry #onelove #QAnon #iamagreatawakening
"If you stay there's no dismay"
the little cricket chirped
but the bird said,"Fly away!
4 then you won't be hurt"
then the wind did bend the limbs
of an old oak tree
"Do not worry," he said,"My friend,
i've come 2 comfort thee
there i was lost in love
in a forest growing black
when the oak tree high above
did burst out with a laugh
"My gentle man do understand
you can go or stay!
fear is always at our feet
wherever so just play!"

#poetry #onelove #QAnon #IAmAGreatAwakening
Read 3 tweets

My Last Canvas

Tonight I'm tired to the bone, wasted from too little sleep
and the same amount of love.
It's difficult to keep life in perspective.
The looming unfamiliar, so easily dismissed during daylight hours,
hunches menacingly right over there, occasionally giving out
a short sharp bark of what must pass for laughter in its tribe.
Undaunted, I stare into its face,
searching those pitiless features for some clue
to its intent, its content, its torment.
There it waits, mostly silent, daring me to walk right up and own it.
Read 11 tweets
I want to create a thread of poems. Anyone interested in joining in? #Poetry #Poem #poetrycommunity #Friday #SpokenWord #artists
Self Pity.

A dusty path,
But there are cleaner routes,
Yet, you chose to be soiled with earth,
Standing mocked before elites,
Your confidence muffled by a swathe of flies,
Your nose piling up unused water that dripped down your jaw.

You chose to be robbed of choice.

The mother of errors,
Always unknown,
Muddling right in a wrongful way,
Pointing evil in an unstoppable direction,
It never meant harm,
But brings blood to the table,
How did it nestle all alone?
Waving to no-one in motion?
Read 14 tweets
the prophets are
acting so
damned smug

there’s no living with them

they were right

this is it

the world is ending
the windows are shaking
the sun is swelling
the china is rattling
the ground is splitting apart
the sky is falling
the sirens are blaring
the geese are fleeing

the plans we wrote out in
detail on onion skin paper
have caught on fire
all of our blueprints are burning
up in a pungent cloud of
herbal tears

everything we so
carefully planned
for is being undone

this is it

the world is ending

for one last time
would you be kind enough
to sit on the lawn
and make one last memory
with me?
Read 4 tweets
Here is a typical example of #Opitz' poetry (and of Baroque #poetry in general), written in the midst of the #ThirtyYearsWar.The poem's topic is #tedium caused by overstudy (which appears in #Goethe's Faust, too), combined with all the three main #Baroque 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘪:
1. 𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘴,
2. 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘮,
3. 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪.

The poem:


Ich empfinde fast ein Grawen
Daß ich / Plato / für vnd für
Bin gesessen über dir;
Es ist Zeit hinauß zu schawen /

Vnd sich bey den frischen Quellen
In dem grünen zu ergehn /
Wo die schönen Blumen stehn /
Vnd die Fischer Netze stellen.

Worzu dienet das studieren
Als zu lauter Vngemach?
Vnter dessen laufft die Bach
Vnsers Lebens das wir führen /
Read 14 tweets
Today is the 297-th #birthday of #German #poet Mathias Etenhueber (1722-1782). Getting ever poorer with increasing age, he produced a large amount of #poetry in #Latin and #German, often for specific occasions in #Bavaria. In despair, he even tried to exploit..
.. the spectacle of public #executions to draw attention to his work, by writing moralizing verses commenting on specific delinquents, then displaying them publicly near the official public proclamation of the respective death sentence.
The last PUBLIC #execution in the #kingdom of #Bavaria happend as late as 1861-11-09, when a farmhand was #guillotine​d because he had robbed and killed a Bavarian #farmer. The last public execution WITH A SWORD in #Bavaria happened as late as 1854-05-12 when 19-year old..
Read 11 tweets

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