A Kimono decorated with skeletons, from Japan, 1840-1860 CE,
now housed at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London
30.10.2025 18:56
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A Kimono decorated with skeletons, from Japan, 1840-1860 CE,
now housed at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London
dude could have made a quiet leafblower with his one wild and precious means of production
“The trajectory from othering to genocide is clear.”
@vietthanhnguyen.bsky.social
www.creativeprocess.info/10mins/viet-...
Bearded Bards Of BlueSky Online readings to raise funds for Tans Lifeline. November 8, 2025 Featuring: Todd Dillard Brian Spears Matthew E. Henry James McConachie David J. Bauman Jonathan Everitt https://beardedbardsofbluesky.weebly.com
Less than a month away!!!!
Listen to live Lit and raise funds for @translifeline.org.
Register now at:
beardedbardsofbluesky.weebly.com
Ramzi, a young Palestinian man, astride a caravan of people and their possessions, along the beach.
With your help Ramzi has made it to Southern Gaza, but must now pay rent . chuffed.org/project/1319...
i think people need a refresher on what constitutes a Distraction. the cracker barrel logo thing (zero stakes, obviously invented controversy) is a Distraction. the ongoing military occupation of washington dc (ample footage of random delivery drivers being violently detained by feds) is not
And *That's* the kind of shit I mean by "intersectional, multi-front coalition."
A picture of the K Iver book Short film starring my beloved’s red bronco
Tupelo, MS Crop dusters have gone missing. Storm clouds, missing. Every owl has gone missing. Entire foothills. There are no dogwoods or foxes to miss them. Radio towers are missing. An archive has always been missing. Unmarked graves have not been missed; have been missed to death. Downtown is missing, the hardware store where Elvis bought his first guitar. The songs he robbed from juke joints. Original names for the dirt have been missing a long time. The namers have not been missed; have been missed terribly. A gospel just went missing. A gospel took all the blood it needed for its metaphor to work. My lover went missing today. My lover went missing fifteen years ago. When neighbors spoke to him, they spoke to someone else. I found his old letters missing from their hat box. Each penciled word called from my mother's chimney. The brick said nothing.
Day 9 of the #sealeychallenge
August 9th- Short Film Starring My Beloved’s Red Bronco, K Iver
The way each poem in this collection feels both unique and part of a larger whole is a masterclass in how to craft a manuscript
Great day for everyone whose 2024 brand move was claiming that Dems were exaggerating how bad Trump would be.
Today’s Featured Poet:
@ivertownandcountry.bsky.social is a nonbinary trans poet born in Mississippi. Their book "Short Film Starring My Beloved’s Red Bronco" won the 2022 Ballard Spahr Prize for Poetry from Milkweed Editions selected by Tyehimba Jess. They have a Ph.D. in Poetry from FSU.
Thursday morning at AWP! with Julie Marie Wade, @ivertownandcountry.bsky.social & @dawnlundy.bsky.social !
What are your favorite prayerful poems?
On 3/27, we invite you to a literary party during AWP, w/ readings by Bryan Byrdlong, @victoriachang.bsky.social, Tongo Eisen-Martin, @ivertownandcountry.bsky.social, @laurenmarkham.bsky.social, Chris Molnar, @mayacpopa.bsky.social, and Greta Rainbow. lareviewofbooks.org/event/a-very...
Brilliant and generous. Thank you for this. A momentary relief during these scary times.
Kiddo What was it that slid through the field of my hand? A mountain. I will say it was a mountain, although it is no longer here for any other to see. It is elsewhere and doubtless sitting like a toad whose voraciousness desires to be appeased. At a key moment any hand may grow warm and as sustaining as a grove of pawpaw or sassafras trees. I will negotiate moving forward from here, forward into the thickness that buries all but the most willful homing. The seat is leather-like and brown and the back is mint green. What kind of sense does that make? Who knows? But at least people needing to sit have somewhere to do that. There are always turns as entirely unexpected as this. Often a bright pair of shoelaces appears as if out of nowhere.
This poem, first published in Gulf Coast and then in The American Sonnet: An Anthology of Poems and Essays, is included in my collection, The Importance of Being Feeble-Minded, due out next month
Sometimes you have to be still and suffer, my teacher says about writing, but I have an active suffering that calls me to run after it. Keep up, says the feed of bad news. It's dangerous to see others as an abstraction. I don't need to hate anyone as an abstraction because I have my mother—I hate my mother. She who keeps stealing the car keys is very real. I see her; I know Terror. What does it mean that I know just where to find a sugar baby but not a nice companion for my Terror? What does it say about me that I'd rather be a sugar baby than a nice companion for my mother? I don't actually know if that's true. But when I'm in a car chasing my mother down I-95, wind slicing through the papers in the backseat, I'm not thinking about writing, or about suffering, even if that's what this is.
new poem—thank you @yalereview.bsky.social
Oh these are so lovely
Another way is possible. Don't lose sight of that.
Mama always taught me to stand up and fight for it. You can't respect yourself otherwise.
Something that 2024 taught me in spades is that when you treat ppl as disposable - by ghosting them, by making assumptions, by ignoring cries for help to insulate yourself -you lose your humanity. You become callous and shallow.
And you’re going to need every bit of your humanity in 2025
URGENT: Here’s a list of campaigns to support Black families displaced by the LA fires. Bit.ly/rebuildAD
h/t: @ykreborn.bsky.social
The sass!
Omg!!
Wonderfuuuuul 🤩✨
No this is so welcome thank you!!!!
What are some of y’all’s favorite poems about poverty, the working class, money fear?
I actually love writing. I feel like that's become a marginal view because it's so cool in writing culture to brag on how you're not writing & complain about how miserable you find it. Being at the page & having words come out of me & editing them later is joyful for me. @upfromsumdirt.bsky.social
Thank you!!