I love Jack Gilbert and this poem so much. Today my joy is a black hair tie around my wrist, whose garter has baconed. My joy is a long letter from a friend. My joy is a yellow fountain pen.
Wow I absolutely loved this. Thank you for the soft, wondorous world of reading poetry again. This healed a insecurity I have even as a poet reading poetry! I don’t have any academic background when it comes to poetry or creative writing. I met poetry in slam in chicago so when I started teaching I felt so incapable. But I started approaching it from what I do know and I feel better being at the front of the classroom. My students struggle with being wrong with reading poetry all the time so this is so medicinal thank you!
I share your background when it comes to poetry. I’ve never studied it formally. I encountered poetry in slams first. I’m glad this offering helped provide some healing. There is so much joy in reading poems.
One of moments in the poem that's really sticking with me: "And maybe not." And the context of this poem, it seems to give a lot of gravity to the kind of "maybe, maybe not" language that I at least tend to take lightly. Maybe the Etruscan texts would have the answers. Maybe they wouldn't. That hit me.
My excitement is a puppy hearing breakfast hit the bowl. My excitement is the sock getting picked from the drawer. My excitement is the approaching chime of the paleta cart by the tennis courts. My love is the 358th turn in Civilization 6. My love is listen mode in BG3 co-op.
wow wow - i cannot tell you how well timed this hits me! i've been sitting a lot with the imprecision of language lately (and trying to honor the joy that can be found when the words don't quite get us where we need to go). this poem and your invitation to not get the interpretation perfect (cuz there ain't a perfect interpretation) is a gift! my joy is coming out of the forest's edge right as the sun breaks the sky - i hope your joy gets some sun today ☀️
It’s a pretty grey day over here and I’m not going lie, I’ve been struggling all day today. But oh well. I’ll keep trying. Hoping for sun soon ☀️-I like your point—there isn’t a perfect way to interpret poems. They’re like tarot cards lol. You can read the cards differently
thank you for bein real - i hope your sun is comin! and lovee thinking of poems as tarot cards - both have lots of wisdom for ya depending on how you read em
I love Jack Gilbert and this poem so much. Today my joy is a black hair tie around my wrist, whose garter has baconed. My joy is a long letter from a friend. My joy is a yellow fountain pen.
Love those metaphors!
Wow I absolutely loved this. Thank you for the soft, wondorous world of reading poetry again. This healed a insecurity I have even as a poet reading poetry! I don’t have any academic background when it comes to poetry or creative writing. I met poetry in slam in chicago so when I started teaching I felt so incapable. But I started approaching it from what I do know and I feel better being at the front of the classroom. My students struggle with being wrong with reading poetry all the time so this is so medicinal thank you!
I share your background when it comes to poetry. I’ve never studied it formally. I encountered poetry in slams first. I’m glad this offering helped provide some healing. There is so much joy in reading poems.
Very excited for this series!
One of moments in the poem that's really sticking with me: "And maybe not." And the context of this poem, it seems to give a lot of gravity to the kind of "maybe, maybe not" language that I at least tend to take lightly. Maybe the Etruscan texts would have the answers. Maybe they wouldn't. That hit me.
My excitement is a puppy hearing breakfast hit the bowl. My excitement is the sock getting picked from the drawer. My excitement is the approaching chime of the paleta cart by the tennis courts. My love is the 358th turn in Civilization 6. My love is listen mode in BG3 co-op.
Maybe is an underrated word. It acts like a hinge. And it is the weight of our own reading that tilts it one way or the other. Maybe. Maybe not.
I love your metaphors!
wow wow - i cannot tell you how well timed this hits me! i've been sitting a lot with the imprecision of language lately (and trying to honor the joy that can be found when the words don't quite get us where we need to go). this poem and your invitation to not get the interpretation perfect (cuz there ain't a perfect interpretation) is a gift! my joy is coming out of the forest's edge right as the sun breaks the sky - i hope your joy gets some sun today ☀️
It’s a pretty grey day over here and I’m not going lie, I’ve been struggling all day today. But oh well. I’ll keep trying. Hoping for sun soon ☀️-I like your point—there isn’t a perfect way to interpret poems. They’re like tarot cards lol. You can read the cards differently
thank you for bein real - i hope your sun is comin! and lovee thinking of poems as tarot cards - both have lots of wisdom for ya depending on how you read em
Absolutely loved reading it! :)
Excited for this series! <3<3
Today my joy is reading this newsletter. It’s failing at writing a poem on how to love me right. It’s Jicama with lemon juice and salt.
Absolutely loved this! Your commentary lit up my day and I will be thinking of joy as 12 ethiopian goats for a while now!
How am I just now seeing this?!? Poetry Therapy has new (way better) legs. Obsessed.