Hello sweet souls! A little share and a shout-out before we begin…
I created this space, honestly, because I needed something new to give myself to. I craved something beyond Instagram that was a little more raw, a little behind the scenes, and a lot of community. I’ve tried “blogging” here and there, but Substack feels like it’s brought the internet to life again! So I’m not sure if this is a blog, a mix of IG, Twitter and a newspaper, or what, but whatever we have going on here, I’m into it.
I have a deep belief that all of us our poets and writers because we are stories living in the flesh. I also have a deep belief in you. That you can write your story in a way it sings to you, and you only. I know firsthand the vulnerability in sharing words from the heart. My hands visibly shake and heart pumps out of my chest when I read my poems at the end of a yoga class (and that’s with everyone in Savasana with their eyes closed!), but in moments of sharing, it’s not about me.
I believe sharing our poetry is a gift to the world. To one person who may read it and feel seen, heard, and warm again. I don’t believe in sharing for praise, but I do believe in sharing as a prayer. That your words could land like a prayer for someone out there, moving them deeply into their “capital-S” Self. And if no one hears you, if no one ever said “wow, I loved your words” let it be a song for the sake of singing.
Birds sing when no one listens. Birds sing when we pay attention. Birds sing as their gift to the Earth. And I don’t ever want to know the type of quiet if birds didn’t sing.
SO! If you feel so inclined to share your piece of a particular prompt, go to the post of the prompt and paste it in the comment section. We would LOVE to hear your song.
A must read: Thank you, Aubrey, for sharing your poem from The First Sunday. My favorite line “But the anxiety disguised as beauty; it’s on sale and it will get here tomorrow.”
Mic drop! Read the full piece here.
Blackout Poetry! This is an exercise I love to do outside, on a picnic blanket, with a friend and an old book. It doesn’t require too much critical thinking or energy as mustering up a poem from scratch does. It’s light-hearted. It gets you looking for something that already exists. It just may have a lot of other “stuff” around it.
Grab a newspaper, thrifted book, old novel, newspaper clipping, an email, etc. (literally anything that has at least a paragraph or more of words)
Find a sharpie (because they always seem hard to find)
Blackout the words that don’t resonate with you, keeping the ones that do, until your poem arises.
Have fun with it! Post your poem in the comments or post the picture of your blacked out page!
Much love\
Nicole
Yes.
She got up rising alone.
Stripped of cargo and his arms
—you look when you notice the first time.
Trembled and ravaged she was so much stronger,
her breast became the comforter.
We are without her cheek, his time, my thinking.
He was weeping.
She was still a Yes.