"We're doing our part / to make the brambles less sharp". Life's a steady blow, but we work with what we know, & here & there along the way we grow, help each other figure it all out. That's what this is about. That none need go it alone. Subs open. Walk & talk with us awhile...
"As for me, I’m with the leaves of grass, the leaves on the trees, the leaves in each good book that is not electronic. I’m with the migrants picking strawberries in California... those who sweat and labor among the fields so that all of us might be fed."
https://t.co/UaMYOAQNpg
How in the world did we survive? Not everyone made it out. We write & sing to it. Carry it with us. People. Places. That it really was all for something. Us too. Friends. Share with us the people & places you carry with you. Submissions close in 3 weeks
https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
"i saw a bumper sticker that read:
your pawpaw didn’t run shine through
these hollows for you to be a bootlicker
and it brought to mind men
polished bright as loafers,
their brazen spirits blazing out from behind
as they ran shining by"
https://t.co/bP83ktrbv3
Share with us what has you in its grips, and also the joy you find in the midst of so much that would have you not experience the beauty of your own unique life.
https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
Sometimes we hide in plain sight. In obvious pain but unwilling or unable to speak the pain out loud to others. But all the good stuff comes when we come out of hiding and share our whole aching and joyous selves with others. Submissions are open friends.
Voice is not something that we consciously construct...It’s about a rising to awareness of our rhythmic tendencies, habits—our rhythmic fingerprints... It’s about listening to your writing in silence and discovering all the music that inhabits your words
https://t.co/dIQbTnbBYl
Hello friends, just a reminder that Anti-Heroin Chic is a sponsored project of Indolent Arts, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit fiscal sponsor. Please consider making a one-time tax-deductible donation to help support the work that we do here.
https://t.co/06mjrXIqAB
"Mackerel sky blankets the moon as our room
reaches for the unlight. Calves touching, kids
grown, we comfort in familiars of the flesh.
The decades teach how mountains waltz,
or stay in place. How breath breaks
anger down to sand, and silt"
https://t.co/gnEcKHiu5s
"The Next Big Thing might as well have been a third person in the bed with us. It was our constant companion: on his tongue as the sun rose, and at the bottom of a bottle some evenings when the sun went down."
https://t.co/kJWcNEqvfx
Small little acts of mercy. Things dropped into a river. The way the sky gone pink can catch your breath short on a long hard day. We never know what might make the difference. But that it doesn't always take much. Share with us your little acts of mercy. https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
"Walking home, turn down the noise
in your headphones, welcome the reassuring hum
of your own feet ahead of you, like a tealight
sliding over a wet sink."
https://t.co/cMN2MSka2u
"When I think of joy,
I still want a different father. In black and white movies,
a house will fall on the antagonist causing me to look up
to myself, say, “Love you, girl. You got this.”
https://t.co/w2F3OUKL91
Small little acts of mercy. Things dropped into a river. The way the sky gone pink can catch your breath short on a long hard day. We never know what might make the difference. But that it doesn't always take much. Share with us your little acts of mercy. https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
What should've but didn't, is still standing despite the odds. Ain't it something, the simple fact we're still here, & with something, however small, to offer the world. Boiled down to a plea to just hold on until the good light hits. Submissions are open https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
"I still think about love the way I did as a child: as something huge and ruinous, something that arrives like a thunderstorm and takes the whole sky. Love in all its forms."
https://t.co/YOCk5HfsOI
"I try to talk to God / but he says sort yourself out". We're the one's who have to do the work. Who can save ourselves. But also, not alone. The poem comes alive with the reader, and the reader with the poem. Our submissions are open. Talk to us. https://t.co/x9XTrhqJmV
"everywhere there is safety but not absence of pain
and the pain not who we are.
the endless highway circles back, repeats
until it can’t be repeated.
when I say yes, I woke up,
I mean to say: I saw the road inside me
for what felt like the first time"
https://t.co/8bpVuzMFPo