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Recent poem I enjoyed by Safia Elhillo

border/softer

in the new year or when I grow up or

if I live through the night I want to be

ungovernable. No longer a citizen

to any of the names assigned my body

& then how boundless could I make my life

which for all its smallness still exhausts me

balancing act of all my margins all my conjugations

of cannot. If I live through the night I will bleed

into all my edges until I am no longer a stroke

of some careless man's pen. After

a particularly liquid lunch Churchill was said

to have created [ ] with a stroke of his [ ]

& isn't a map only a joke we all agreed into a fact

& where can I touch the equator & how will I know

I am touching it & where is the end of my country

the beginning of the next how will I know I've crossed over

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Holy cow this poem. I have no other words than these. I am going to be writing this one out. Thank you so much for sharing it

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It's quite something isn't it. The line about maps being a joke we all agreed into fact really got me

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This poem is fantabulous

‘.....bleed into all my edges until I am no longer a stroke

of some careless man's pen.’

I am with @Nelly Bryce on this - off to write it out!

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Yes it's so powerful isn't it! So pleased you enjoyed it too

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This poem is mind blowing! I love it ❤️

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So mine is Mary Oliver’s Invitation (due to some research I have been doing) I like her pieces & this one particularly resonated as I slow down and reconsider my purpose in life.

Oh do you have time

to linger

for just a little while

out of your busy

and very important day

for the goldfinches

that have gathered

in a field of thistles

for a musical battle,

to see who can sing

the highest note,

or the lowest,

or the most expressive of mirth,

or the most tender?

Their strong, blunt beaks

drink the air

as they strive

melodiously

not for your sake

and not for mine

and not for the sake of winning

but for sheer delight and gratitude –

believe us, they say,

it is a serious thing

just to be alive

on this fresh morning

in the broken world.

I beg of you,

do not walk by

without pausing

to attend to this

rather ridiculous performance.

It could mean something.

It could mean everything.

It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:

You must change your life.

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I hadn't read this Mary Oliver poem Tiffany, thank you so much for sharing it. What a beaut x

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And going full on Insta Poet mode, I recently saw this and loved it by Maia

you believe

you don't deserve a love the size of the sun

because someone did not give it to you give it to yourself first the sun will feel like nothing after

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I've written this one in my journal this morning. Thank you for sharing it

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Hello, Rach here - my love of poetry is a new thing, started via the journalling group and the fore mentioned insta-poetry, really. I wrote some poems last year and some times add little lines to my notes but committing more time to developing it with a lovely group is exactly what I think I need! The last poem I read was this morning on the wall of my office, something I do most days when working and diverting my eyes from the screen for a moment called “a bit too...” by one of my fave poets...Nelly of course! X

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I saw this poem (The Committee Weighs In by Andrea Cohen) on Instagram this morning and it stopped me in my tracks:

I tell my mother

I’ve won the Nobel Prize.

Again? she says. Which

discipline this time?

It’s a little game

we play: I pretend

I’m somebody, she

pretends she isn’t dead.

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Awww this one ❤️🙏🤗

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This poem has stopped me in my tracks too. Very powerful

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Recently, I get my poetry fix through this Instagram account @secretchords_apoemfortheday. It was the day after Christmas and I was relieved it was done. Wendy Cope captured my mood perfectly 👌

30th December

At first I'm startled by the sound of bicycles Above my head. And then I see them, two swans. Flying in to their runway behind the reeds.

The bridge is slippery, the grass so sodden That water seeps into my shoes. But now

The sun has come out and everything is calm

And beautiful as the end of a hangover.

Christmas was a muddle

Of turkey bones and muted quarrelling.

The visitors have left.

Solitary walkers smile and tell each other

That the day is wonderful.

If only this could be Christmas now -

These shining meadows,

The hum of huge wings in the sky.

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Oh wow. What a poem. Definitely going to be saving this one to read in December next year. Helloooo Katie, so good to have you here xx

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Hi, I'm Louisa. I obsessively read poetry as a child and enjoyed the work of Michael Rosen and Roger McGough. I have a memory of a poem about the fight between the head and the pillow upon trying to go to sleep. I loved poems that had a nod to surrealism and comedy. However, I've not read poetry in years, so I feel like a massive imposter being here. I love to journal and often add bits of writing into my drawings and paintings. I feel a calling to return to poetry. Debating whether to officially subscribe or lurk in the background...

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Hi Louisa, you are most welcome here either way - though I secretly hope we can persuade you to come and dabble a little more :) x

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Hi! I’m Erin, a multi-disciplinary artist from Alberta, Canada. My poetry usually lives with my visual artworks and other times incorporated with song. I love the idea of connecting with other poets to enjoy the beauty of your words and give myself a gentle push to delve a little deeper into a more intentional poetry practice.

A poem that I’ve been chewing on lately is Emily Dickinson’s famous “Hope” is the thing with feathers:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

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Absolutely divine. Hi Erin. Thanks so much for being here. I am very much hoping we might get to experience some of your poetry combined with song and/or visual artwork in the coming months x

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Hey! So… can I win some sort of award for being the last to comment on the first post??! Gah - how is it March already when I promised myself I’d keep up with this??! Anyway, here I am catching up and loving what I have read. To introduce myself, I’m ‘a late the party’ poetry lover. Pretty much hated it in school - loved English Lit and went on to get a degree in it(!) - but poetry felt inaccessible; a secret language I didn’t have the tools to decipher. I’m so sad now that I was made to feel this way but amidst a sea of poetry almost entirely by men about subjects so very removed from my experiences what else would I feel?! I now realise it was the curriculum’s fault not mine! So here I am, mid forties, up to my eyeballs in family life and work but loving reading and writing poetry as well as facilitating poetry writing groups on the side. Such a joy! I shoehorn poetry in whenever and wherever I can in my week and am really looking forward to writing more (sadly not done enough of this lately!!). So many amazing poems out there and so difficult to only choose one to share but this is a Mary Oliver one I love. (It’s criminal I only properly discovered her a few years ago!) Anyone else feel like there’s soooo much catching up to do - but what a flipping joy and journey it’s going to be!

Sleeping In The Forest

I thought the earth remembered me, she 
took me back so tenderly, arranging 
her dark skirts, her pockets 
full of lichens and seeds. I slept 
as never before, a stone 
on the riverbed, nothing 
between me and the white fire of the stars 
but my thoughts, and they floated 
light as moths among the branches 
of the perfect trees. All night 
I heard the small kingdoms breathing 
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night 
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling 
with a luminous doom. By morning 
I had vanished at least a dozen times 
into something better.

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Hi I’m Ange, I love what you’re building here Nelly! There’s something very powerful about poetry and feminism - it’s like writing our stories/observations onto the page (or notes in our phones!) is a claiming of voice, a re-centring of what has been so disproportionately and deliberately un-centred. I love how poems create space for people to arrive at a thought themselves - consciousness raising without the shouting. Poetry is so powerful for social justice.

My Mum used to read poetry to us as kids and she’d write some too and read them to me. Now she has big memory issues and gets really anxious very easily. We read poems together now and that feels very special. Often I read her my latest little wonderings and it’s lovely.

Here’s a poem I came back to recently - it’s so spot on...

Why Dorothy Wordsworth is not as famous as her brother

"I wandered lonely as a...

They're in the top drawer, William,

Under your socks -

I wandered lonely as a -

No not that drawer, the top one.

I wandered by myself -

Well wear the ones you can find.

No, don't get overwrought my dear, I'm coming.

"I wandered lonely as a -

Lonely as a cloud when -

Soft-boiled egg, yes my dear,

As usual, three minutes -

As a cloud which floats -

Look, I said I'll cook it,

Just hold on will you -

All right, I'm coming.

"One day I was out for a walk

When I saw this flock -

It can't be too hard, it had three minutes.

Well put some butter in it. -

This host of golden daffodils

As I was out for a stroll one -

"Oh you fancy a stroll, do you?

Yes all right, William, I'm coming.

It's on the peg. Under your hat.

I'll bring my pad, shall I, in case

You want to jot something down?"

- Lynn Peters

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Ange. You articulate the poetry feminism piece so well, it’s like you’ve found the words for what I’ve been feeling for so long. Thank you. I’m genuinely grateful to hear I’m not alone. these sound like such special moments with your mum. What a joy poetry is. I’d never read this poem. It’s absolutely brilliant. Im thrilled to have met you on here.

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Hello! I’m Ellen, I read and write poetry. I did both things quite prolifically in 2021 after having my third child, but since starting a new job at the end of 2022 I’ve found it much harder to find the time. I’m really hoping this project devised by Nelly will help me prioritise poetry again this year. I work at the library so I do get to occasionally run poetry writing activities with kids which is absolutely lush ❤️

I often write about love (of all types - familial, romance and friendship) and sex and being a woman in a patriarchal society. I’ve finished writing my second poetry pamphlet and am currently attempting to find a small press to publish it, while also contemplating self publishing!

I have been reading “Shine, Darling” by Ella Frears recently (published by Offord Road Books) and this poem really struck a chord with me. I think a lot of us can sadly relate...

Walking Home One Night

I catch the moon winking through the trees.

I'm gripping my house-keys between my knuckles.

It's like glimpsing an old friend through a crowd.

I soften. She is a sliver, towards the soft end of yellow.

I breathe in the night, lift my fingertip to fill in the circle.

Turning onto the stretch of road that I don't like, lampless

and narrow,

I tell her: I will be calling on you, to testify that you saw the whole terrible thing through one half-closed eye.

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Also, sooooo chuffed you are here. x

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Adding this book to my list immediately Ellen. Thank you x

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Oh that's powerful! And sadly relatable

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Hi everyone, I'm Kathryn. Mum, feminist, lover of poetry. I write and read poetry. I mainly write about my experience of motherhood and/or feminism and aim to publish my first book, compiling all my motherhood poems, in the not too distant future. I too am a huge fan of insta poetry. I love that the platform gives a voice to women and their experiences, without which I'd unlikely hear about. I get excited by a poem I can connect with or one that fires me up! And I can't wait to hear about yout favourite poets and poems. I recently heard Harry Baker read his poem "Unashamed" on his insta page and immediately bought his book, so check that one out if you've not already. Would love to share a photo of the last poem I read and loved...but I'm new to this platform and can't work out how (did I mention technology is not forte!) If you can advise, I'll happily share. Looking forward to connecting with you all x

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Helloooo Kathryn. SO lovely to have you here. I know, it's a bit annoying that you can't share a photo in the comments, that would have been helpful wouldn't it. But we can go and follow links, especially when they are to videos, and yes, writing them out can be an option too, if not too long. I am off to look up that poem on Insta! Thank you x

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I would love to put Harry baker on the list of poet to read. Do you think he would join in. I wonder what his top 10 tips would be for spoken word/poetry, loved his unashamed poem.

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Lovely to be here. Thanks for the invite. Excited to connect with everyone. Here's a link to the other poem I mentioned. https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0b48-xoEg_/?igsh=ZXUxa3lmMWVsdmxs

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Hi Kathryn! I’m not sure if you can share a picture in the comments, I just copied the text over 😂

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Ah I see. OK thank you. I'll share it below

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Hi Nelly ❤️✨

So lovely to ‘meet’ you.

I love the journal! I’m starting a set of workshops here where I show people how to hand sew their own and this made me realise it might be nice to collaborate somehow. Poems and hand made books sounds extra special.

I really hear you on the Insta-poet trope and I do think it undermines female authors. I think if more women’s poetry had been taught to me in school, I would have been able to access it as an art form much quicker.

My favourite poem, recently, is by a lady called Nicola. She performed it at an event I was at, it’s called My Fanny is Not. I can’t find it written anywhere but it was amazing. The first line is ‘my fanny is not a vestibule’. It was a really powerful experience to hear her read it. I did find this event she’s doing, so you can see who she is - https://www.thestand.co.uk/performance/15936/nicola-mantalios-meeting-mary/20240128/newcastle

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I am now obsessively googling Nicola. You had me at that first line. Oh we should definitely chat some more. I write about journaling too on Substack, so between the two things there must be some collaboration opportunities to come. So glad to have you here x

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I subscribe to your other publication and it did take me too long to realise they were both written by you 😆❤️

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Hi Zoe! Oh, that poem sounds brilliant 😍 and such a gorgeous idea to collaborate on creative projects ❤️

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I just laughed out loud at that line 😂😂😂 what a brilliant sounding poem, hello Zoe

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It was so good 😂 I really hope she publishes it

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Hi everyone,

Feel a bit late to the party as I've only just managed to get subscribed (finally sat down to my emails when the kids were finally back at school...), but despite my desire to hide behind a cushion in shame I'll say hello anyway! (gosh, what an apologetic woman beginning!)

I'm Anna, a mum of 3 living in east London, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my life even though I'm at least half way through it! I'm very new to poetry: like others here, poetry is in my family as my father is a poet, but I've always written it off as something I didn't understand, until a poem just poured out of me recently.

I've signed up to do a beginners poetry course at the local FE college, and am a HUGE fan of Inst-Poetry - it's where I read most, if not all, of the poems I read at present.

I'm really looking forward to this journey with you all.

Anyway, my favourite poem is an old one I'm sure you all know, but every time I revisit it, it brings me some peace. What a huge gift Mary Oliver shared with the world:

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

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Helloooo, you're not late my love, you are perfectly on time. Thank you for flying the Mary Oliver flag. Oh my goodness do I love this poem. It is one I have (tried) to memorise off by heart. And your Dad is a poet, that is very cool. I am almost certain it runs in the family. So glad to have you here xx

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Hi everyone! My name is Bryony, and I've been reading and writing poetry (on and off) since I was a teenager - I'm now nudging on the age of 40. For most of my 30s I lost my way a bit with my creativity and writing, so I've been making a conscious effort to immerse myself in the world of poetry again over the past couple of years. So when I saw this initiative from Nelly, it sung out to me! I try and read a range of different poets but particularly love Wendy Cope, Sharon Olds, Mary Oliver, Carol Ann Duffy...I was given a couple of great books for Christmas - Laurie Lee: Collected Poems, and a 'Poems of the Sea' anthology, so later today that'll be next port of call for the last poem I've read!

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I absolutely love a poetry book for Christmas. What a treat. And so glad to find you here. I very much empathise with those years of losing touch with writing. I hope this can be a way we keep each other on track x

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Hi! The last poem I read was actually written by my dad! He occasionally writes poems and emails them to me, and he sent me one a few days ago. I love this about him as I think it would be very unexpected to people who know him, he's a manly man general contractor and his other hobbies are riding motorcylces and eating pie. I don't read poetry as much as I'd like, it's a habit I'd like to get back into — a few years ago I was listening to the Poetry Unbound podcast regularly and reading Mary Oliver and also enjoying Jacqueline Suskin's book about writing poetry. I don't write poetry often but I'm a painter, and like to write titles for my paintings that are like one line poems (although sometimes feel quite self concious doing that)!

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Oh I too love that your dad sends you poems. What a special thing, that he writes them AND then shares them with you. Wow. I really like Poetry Unbound, I could listen to his voice all day. There's a new series only out recently. I've just added Jacqueline Suskin's Every Day is A Poem to my birthday list. It sounds wonderful. Poetry and painting are made for one another. x

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Hi Melissa! hooray for dads who write - my dad writes historical novels which he’s self published as e-books, it’s so lovely seeing that creative side of them ❤️

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