@poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
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Katie Farris
From Standing In The Forest Of Being Alive, 2023.
Katie Farris

Why Write Love Poetry in a Burning World

To train myself to find in the midst of hell what isn't hell.

The body bald 
cancerous but still 
beautiful enough to 
imagine living the body 
washing the body 
replacing a loose front 
porch step the body chewing 
what it takes to keep a body 
going-

This scene has a tune 
a language I can read a door 
I cannot close I stand 
within its wedge 
a shield.

Why write love poetry in a burning world? 
To train myself in the midst of a burning world 
to offer poems of love to a burning world.



From Standing In The Forest Of Being Alive
@alicejamesbooks 2023.
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
Rest in Peace & Power Assata Shakur
(July 16, 1947-September 25, 2025)
ASSATA SHAKUR
From Breakthrough: Political Journal, 1977.
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
We lived at the end of an empire.

Jim Moore
From Invisible Strings, 2011.
THOSE OTHERS by Jim Moore 

We lived at the end of an empire.

Sometimes we gathered in huge auditoriums and tried to understand.
Our shame did not save us, 
nor our sadness redeem us, 
as we came to understand 
how others, far into the future, 
would look back at us, 
shaking their heads: we hoped 
in sorrow; more likely, anger.

From Invisible Strings
Graywolf, 2011
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
M.O. From Felicity, 2015.
#maryoliver
#august #poetry
#poertyisnotaluxury
THE POND by Mary Oliver 

August of another summer, and once again
I am drinking the sun 
and the lilies again are spread across the water.
I know now what they want is to touch each other.

I have not been here for many years 
during which time I kept living my life.
Like the heron, who can only croak, who wishes 
he could sing, I wish I could sing.
A little thanks from every throat would be appropriate. 
This is how it has been, and this is how it is: 
All my life I have been able to feel happiness, 
except whatever was not happiness, 
which I also remember.
Each of us wears a shadow.
But just now it is summer again 
and I am watching the lilies bow to each other, 
then slide on the wind and the tug of desire, 
close, close to one another.
Soon now, I'll turn and start for home.
And who knows, maybe I'll be singing.


From Felicity 
Penguin Books, 2015.
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
New anthology available now
Poetry Is Not A Luxury: Poems For All Season, 2025.
bookshop.org/p/books/poet...
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
Jim Moore
From Lighting At Dinner, 2005.
Against Empire by Jim Moore 

Small olives taste best.
Small stars shine farthest.
Small birds call
most sweetly. Small lives,
we are small, small lives.



From Lighting At Dinner 
graywolf press 2005.
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
Rest in Peace Fanny Howe

Fanny Howe's words mean everything. What a life of poetry she shared with us. A true legend.
I won't be able to write from the grave 
so let me tell you what I love: 
oil, vinegar, salt, lettuce, brown bread, butter, cheese and wine, a windy day, a fireplace, 
the children nearby, poems and songs, 
a friend sleeping in my bed-
and the short northern nights.

Forever Fanny Howe 💌 
Grateful to have this poem
featured in the anthology
Poetry Is Not A Luxury: 
Poems For All Seasons
washingtonsquarepress, 2025
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
this fragile life

To Hold by Li-Young Lee
From Behind My Eyes, 2008.
To Hold by Li-Young Lee 

So we're dust. In the meantime, my wife and I make the bed. Holding opposite edges of the sheet, we raise it, billowing, then pull it tight, measuring by eye as it falls into alignment between us. We tug, fold, tuck. And if I'm lucky, she'll remember a recent dream and tell me.

One day we'll lie down and not get up. One day, all we guard will be surrendered.

Until then, we'll go on learning to recognize what we love, and what it takes to tend what isn't for our having. So often, fear has led me to abandon what I know I must relinquish in time. But for the moment, I'll listen to her dream, and she to mine, our mutual hearing calling more and more detail into the light of a joint and fragile keeping.




this fragile life, sending love 
From Behind Eyes 
wwnorton, 2008.
poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social
Audre Lorde

From Poetry Is Not A Luxury: Poems For All Seasons
Atria, 2025
Audre Lorde

Coping

It has rained for five days 
running 
the world is 
a round puddle 
of sunless water 
where small islands 
are only beginning 
to cope 
a young boy 
in my garden 
is bailing out water 
from his flower patch 
when I ask him why 
he tells me 
young seeds that have not seen sun 
forget 
and drown easily.


From Poetry Is Not A Luxury: Poems For All Seasons 
Atria, 2025
& The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde, 
Norton, 1997.
Reposted
Reposted
jesstraynor.bsky.social
Such a pleasure to be sharing space with Ursula K. Le Guin in the beautiful @poetryisnotaluxury.bsky.social anthology ✨️✨️✨️
@bloodaxebooks.bsky.social