Loose Words Letter #36
On Winter’s Approach
Welcome to the weekly newsletter from Loose Words. These letters go out every Thursday and highlight many of our published poems from the past week. We hope that these poems find you settling in for Winter, but looking forward to Spring.
“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus
Each week, we post a few lines from each featured poem (all friend links so anyone can read them) so you can get a quick vibe on what the poem is about. If you feel it, click in and read on. A one-minute read could change your day.
Each week we feature one of our contributing poets at Loose Words on our homepage and in this letter. This week it is Victoria Antonelli. Victoria is a trained storyteller, poet, journalist, and actress. Read 6 of her poems on our homepage this week.
Twenty-one weeks ago we introduced Collections to Loose Words. Collections are groupings of poems with an overall theme. You can find Collections on the home page underneath Featured Poems, the Guide To Publishing Poetry on Medium, and the Featured Poet section. We have released On Love, On Mental Health, 40 Fans, On Mindfulness, Unknown, On Time, Narrative, Micro, On Life, Free Verse, 95%, On Society, On Heartbreak, Ode, Throwback, Limited Edition, On Relationships, Top Shelf, Philosophical, Memories, On Culture, and this week we released On Self.
On Self features 11 poems from 11 different poets, all with an inward focus on self. This section is a great way to get acquainted with multiple works around one theme, as well as to find poets you haven’t read before or ones you shouldn’t miss.
On Self features loose words from Florence Wanjiku, Gail Walter, Connie Song, Lisa Alletson, Simran Kankas, Lark Morrigan, Ioana Andrei, Aspen Blue, Jonathan Greene, Carolyn Riker, and Priyanka Srivastava.
Loose Words From Last Week
tattered with redness
because I don’t tan
and the sun isn’t shining
and my skin is burning
from the heat of my own gaze”
“I’m knocked down again,
Falling into the pieces of the plate
Bleeding from a wound no one can see
Yet the vexation is there
Luring me backward every time”
“My eyes sore beneath the silky eyelids.
I pray to the waves:
come and swing me,
make my repose
into a bedding of algae.”
“You are special
for the monsters
do not haunt
your peaceful heart.”
“Swaying mystery without an edge
and yet there it was all along
in our paintings and songs
blazing stars of the primary fire,
drawn in the blood of the first hunt”
“& frictive scroll of 40 hrs
burns midnight to monetize
to make ruling concepts
out of an interrupted whole”
“I see a smile on your lips when
you catch a glimpse of me at
the window. The time has come
for forgiveness. I open the door
and throw my arms around you.”
“and fingered by the same rays of gold
that gild the strands of the spiderwebs
and halo the bodies of dead moths
wedged between the panes:”
“It’s time to crawl back into bed
The place I left when orange and pink
Beckoned me to complete a task
I couldn’t handle”
“Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.” — Paul Theroux
Allow Winter to be your time. The time you stockpile your words in the corner of your room and under your bed. The season of hibernation allows you to engage in deep thought. When you get there, go deeper. Then write.