#micropoetry
If there is
a scent of white
it is in this room
the day comes
to the window
& the way she waits
curves light in the ways
gravity curves space
with beauty & grace.
.
if you listen closely
you can hear
the rising waters whispers
if you cover your ears
you’ll hear it too
—Ariel Francisco, 1st place winner of the 2021 Treehouse Climate Action Poem Prize.
@AriCisco
https://t.co/LEOG8iYvg7
Would anyone really trade a metaphor of light for actual light?
And yet, metaphors can go where light cannot. And so poets persist in the foolishness that may make one wise.
Next month we'll be taking chapbook & full-length submissions of poetry! @TaylorByas3 & @adrianf will be making chapbook selections to top off our 2023 calendar ✨ you'll have one month to send us something! https://t.co/fCbV80sNj2
We have responded to all submissions, and invite more work. Everyone who submits before November 15 will receive a response in two weeks, likely sooner. We look forward to reading your work.
Submission guidelines: https://t.co/KTV2xlGa3S.
One of the things I love about Twitter: At 2am I could type, “I love Louise Gluck” and a conversation could follow, from places all over the world. It makes my brain bigger and my heart happy. Musk? Whatever. I’m here for the poetry and the people.
If I love poetry, it’s because I have a soul made for poetry. My habitual dreaminess, my impatience have nothing to do with my intelligence, but rather with my disposition. One of these days, I shall talk about the things in myself that I don’t understand.
When you live in the dark for so long, you begin to love it. And it loves you back, and isn’t that the point? You think, the face turns to the shadows, and just as well. It accepts, it heals, it allows.
But it also devours.
― Raymond Carver