J.D. Isip

What a nifty surprise! Reluctant Prophets is now available! Here's a link to Amazon (but I checked Barnes & Noble, and it's up there now, too). I imagine that means those of you who pre-ordered should get yours soon! a.co/d/0dwS7kn

Hey friends and fam - With a new semester starting, a huge editing project, and the desire to "focus on what I can actually have an impact on," I'm gonna jump off social media until May. Please, please - "Be kind to yourselves." 💙 youtu.be/sYiM-sOC6nE?si… via @YouTube

Tracy K Smith

The Collected Poems of Denise Levertov

“One poem proves another and the whole, For the clairvoyant men that need no proof: The lover, the believer and the poet, Their words are chosen out of their desire, The joy of language, when it is themselves. With these they celebrate the central poem, The fulfillment of fulfillments, in opulent, Last terms. … That’s it. The lover writes, the believer hears, The poet mumbles and the painter sees, Each one, his fated eccentricity, As a part, but part, but tenacious particle, Of the skeleton of the ether, the total Of letters, prophecies, perceptions, clods Of color, the giant of nothingness, each one And the giant ever changing, living in change.” —Wallace Stevens, “A Primitive Like an Orb”

Carol Ann Duffy

Thinking about Brian Wilson this morning— “Don’t Worry Baby” (this from @BeachChairPress originally in @newversereview)

“The poet’s eye, in fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.” —William Shakespeare

Have you listened to “Queer Trivia Night” by Jenny Johnson on our daily #PoemADay podcast? podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/poe…

Heartens to childhood

Today in ONE ART, we feature poems by Tamara Madison & Karen Greenbaum-Maya oneartpoetry.com

One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow —Wallace Stevens poets.org/poem/snow-man

Robert Hayden

Discretionary Love just posted my poem, NEFERTITI discretionarylove.com/nefertiti/

I take my cue from statues posing only in their shoulder pads of snow: all January you can see them working on their granite tans. —Alice Fulton poets.org/poem/about-face

“Wheresoe’er I turn my view, All is strange, yet nothing new; Endless labour all along, Endless labour to be wrong; Phrase that time has flung away, Uncouth words in disarray, Trick’d in antique ruff and bonnet, Ode, and elegy, and sonnet.” —Samuel Johnson, “Lines Written in Ridicule of Certain Poems {of Thomas Warton} Published in 1777”

Oh Jesus! Thank you George Herbert

The Library We have all been there once. Some, more than that. They forced us all to visit one September. But that was such a long, long time ago. There wasn’t anything to marvel at. The door was heavy. That I still remember. Inside were many things I’ll never know. J Mehigan

Ah, but high, high in the air I flew. And far, far beyond the curb of her will, were the blue hills where the falcons nest. And then I saw west to the dying sun— it seemd my human soul went down in flames. —Robert Duncan, born #OTD in 1919 poets.org/poem/my-mother…