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thetenderbetween

@thetenderbetween.bsky.social

Eve Luckring~ Writer and Visual Artist; Poetry Reader

162 Posts101 Follower146 Folgt
thetenderbetween@thetenderbetween.bsky.social · 5mo ago

I’ve been working on a new poem that cannot find its title and it’s making me crazy so I just need to share that for me, this is a perfectly titled poem! for how it both enwraps and expands all the beauty offered in its course. Here I am thinking about “Outer Tactics”:

Tom Snarsky@tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 5mo ago

happy #twopageplustuesday all! today’s for longer poems you’ve written or loved, that would run to 2+ printed pages—share ’em if you’ve got ’em :) today’s also my mom’s birthday, so here’s one from my book Reclaimed Water that owes a great debt to her music, which I’ll 🔗 below—

Outer Tactics Spinning Sibylle Baier's Colour Green, or really it's on Spotify to be more honest about modes of transport of information, the sound going in a cache instead of circling below a needle, vestigial record like a water wheel turning and turning over the stream one side of its white oak faded by the sun but none of this can tell you anything about her voice, Sibylle's, how it took nearly 30 years for Colour Green's songs to make it out to people, ghost voice carried into the new century by a son— now I'm getting ahead of myself the songs are just beautiful, were recorded between 1970 and 1973 with minimal accompaniment, mostly, stored thereafter until Sibylle's son Robby made a CD of them and gave one to
Yoon Kim@yoonkim.bsky.social · 6mo ago

“The memories which two people preserve of each other, even in love, are not the same. […] For between us and other people there exists a barrier of contingencies.” (Proust, Time Regained)

Yoon Kim@yoonkim.bsky.social · 7mo ago

Rhyme is the public truth of language, sound paced out in the shared places, the echoes are no-one’s private property or achievement; thus any grace (truly achieved) of sound is political, part of the world of motion and place in which language is like weather, the air we breathe. J.H. Prynne, 1968