Poem It Forward...paying it forward, one poem at a time!

Paying It Forward...one poem at a time!

[soulreserve]

blueprint

the sea is endless beyond our dreaming.

on my forehead, on my palms, lines of destiny pulsate fluid as waves. signals call and trace your undulation.

you slip, iridescent nebulous, through seascape. a soft grey-green shadow.

a tiny blip on the map I keep hidden in my heart.

i know how to find you.

© SoulReserve 2026

[poemitforward]

coordinate

the dark is patient beneath your searching.

in my throat, in my ribs, currents of the drift settle heavy as salt. echoes catch and hold your frequency.

i bloom, phosphorescent silver-spun, through the deep. a low obsidian hum.

the steady spark on the compass you keep in your palm.

i am waiting to be found.

[takingstockofwhatmattersmost]

Sir Mike...The Real Miracle

fifteen years is a long time to learn the shape of someone’s words the way they lean when they are tired the way they rise when the world forgets to be...kind

you were never just Mike Frawley (I don't Capitalize for just anyone) you are the quiet architect of feeling stacking words into lighthouses so the rest of us can see where to step

and now the dark has come uninvited unashamed trying to write a poem you did not write

but i have read you too long to believe this is an ending

you who stitched light into all the others grief who made ache blossom into a song who taught silence how to...speak

you do not belong to this diagnosis you belong to every breath ...of every one of us... that still dares to hope

so here is my prayer not polished not perfect but stubborn ...as my friendship is

let the cells remember they are part of a man who has wanted nothing but creation never destruction

and "miracles happen I" are just moments where the universe leans in closer and WE lean closer close enough for you to ...hear

lean hard like you always have

i am still here fifteen years later standing in the margins of your story

believing with everything i have

that this page this poem your poem is not the last one Kevin's Note: Hi-jack Collab the Shit outta this...

[raisethecurve]

On Influence

When did belief stop being a way of understanding the world and become a way of presenting the self, and prescribing what others must affirm?

Somewhere along the way, discourse gave way to identity. Positions ceased to function as claims about reality and became declarations of who we are, and increasingly of who others must be. Once belief hardens into identity, disagreement is no longer intellectual. It becomes moral. To challenge an idea is no longer to test it, but to violate a role.

This shift has reshaped public life, but its most serious consequences appear in the arts and in education, spaces meant not for allegiance, but for formation. I am not afraid of radical art. Art should never be censored. It should be allowed to be political, abrasive, destabilizing, even wrong. That freedom is the condition of its power. What concerns me is not what people believe, but what belief becomes when it is carried as authority, when ideas stop being invitations to think and start becoming templates for identity.

Social media has altered the meaning of influence. Students no longer encounter their teachers only in classrooms or workshops. They encounter them everywhere, in feeds, in comment threads, in public declarations designed less to persuade than to signal. What once lived inside discussion now circulates as posture. The classroom no longer ends at the door. Authority follows students into the spaces where identity is being shaped.

Authority, whether acknowledged or not, teaches.

A teacher does not merely transmit information. A teacher models how a mind holds ideas. That asymmetry matters. In creative and academic spaces, how beliefs are expressed is as formative as the beliefs themselves. When certainty is delivered through contempt, when disagreement is framed as moral failure rather than intellectual difference, discourse is not replaced. It is foreclosed. Thought collapses into alignment. Curiosity becomes risk.

The deeper harm is not that students adopt the wrong views. It is that they learn a distorted lesson about thinking itself. Ideas become possessions rather than propositions. Power appears to come from posture rather than reasoning. The goal shifts from understanding the world to occupying the correct identity within it. When belief becomes something others must perform in order to belong, education ceases to be an encounter with thought and becomes a rehearsal of roles.

This is not an argument for neutrality. Strong convictions are not the problem. What corrodes education is not belief, but belief unexamined in the presence of power. Dogma is not simply having an opinion. Dogma begins when an idea stops being answerable to thought and starts being enforced as identity.

The real corrective does not come from policy, outrage, or enforced civility. It comes from something more difficult and more demanding: self-awareness. Recognition of when influence is being exercised rather than shared must replace reflex. Understanding the difference between guiding a mind and closing it must become habitual. The choice to hold conviction in a way that leaves room for thinking must be made again and again.

This is what self-moderation actually means. It is not the dilution of belief, but the discipline of conduct. It is not fear of saying what one thinks, but responsibility for what that saying does in a room where others are still becoming.

Art may be radical. It should be. Authority must be something else. It must remain dialogical, not because conflict is dangerous, but because thinking is fragile. When those who teach, mentor, and shape culture forget that distinction, education becomes ideological rehearsal rather than human formation.

If we want healthier classrooms, healthier art, and a healthier public life, the answer will not come from policy or performance. It will come from the people who hold power and from whether they treat thought as something to be cultivated or something to be controlled. The moment authority stops making room for thinking, education ceases to be an encounter with ideas and becomes an apparatus for identity. At that point, minds are no longer being formed. Roles are being manufactured. A culture that does that has already decided what kind of future it is willing to have.

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...the @stolenhead edition!!

what wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence?

Poetry is my silence, in a way. I'm not much of a talker, so it's an outlet for me. 

which poem of yours would you never let your mother read—and why?

Well. I would let my mother read something I wrote about a blowjob before I let her read something that I wrote about her. Wouldn't want to give her the satisfaction. 

what truth about yourself have you hidden in poems so no one would notice it was you?

The 'you' in my writing is often me. Not a fact i try to conceal, but I'd be surprised if anybody picked up on it.

if your poetry were lipstick, what shade would it be and who would you leave it on?

Dusty plum, gas station bathroom mirror a thousand miles from anywhere

which poem broke you while writing it, and why did you keep going?

I guess I've done a lot of writing while i was a complete wreck, but i would say those are the things I recall the least. So i couldn't name anything specific. I guess I keep going because that's the point of it, to get outside of it. Although, i don't think i always understood that.  

what’s the strangest place you’ve ever written a line down?

In this life, I've written a few while hiding from my 99 y/o full code dementia patient's clinically insane family members under a desk. In past lives, on the swamp soggy shoulder of some mosquito-infested back road with a razor in my pocket and a fifth between my legs. 

do you believe your poetry is honest—or do you edit honesty into something more palatable?

It's honest but it's pretty cryptic, I think. Could be that makes it more palatable. 

if someone wanted to seduce you with a poem, what absolutely wouldn’t work?

I can only be seduced by wildly obscene limericks about amputees. Nothing else would work. Easy enough, though. Just think of all the things that rhyme with stump. Endless potential. 

what silence from your childhood still echoes in your writing?

I was raised by the men of my family, the tenderest of which had the emotional range of an alligator. Anything that wasn't a function of the hindbrain was perceived as weakness and promptly exploited. Or, at least, made me subject to relentless teasing meant to toughen me up. So: any complex emotion or shred of vulnerability.

have you ever hidden little “easter eggs” in your poems for only one person to recognize?

Nope. Not something that would ever occur to me.

what’s the cost of making your trauma beautiful?

So, I don't think that this is something that I do. But I think the potential cost of doing so is excusing or possibly glorifying terrible behavior. Hurt people hurt people, sure. But hurt people can also take responsibility for their own actions, so. 

when people read your work, do you want them to imagine your mind, your voice, or your body first?

I don't write for people, I write for me. So I guess the answer is I don't care. 

what would destroy you more—your poems being forgotten or being misunderstood?

I don't expect my writing to be remembered or understood, so neither. 

if your poetry could fight another art form in a boxing match, which would it be and who would win?

I think it would likely get disqualified.

when people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life?

I find that life is much easier for me when I don't concern myself with what other people do. So, it makes no difference to me, especially in the setting of my death, if that's what you're referring to. When I'm dead, I'm dead and can't want anything anymore. 

Kevin's Note: Thank you again for your time. I think this will be the last of these for a bit. One...holidays. Two...no one is sending back responses that I've sent questions to, so I think it must have played itself out. Again. I had fun with these and I hope you did too. We'll see what the future holds? Love you all...mean it!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...the @robertjw4688 edition!! Thanks Brother!

what truth about yourself have you buried in poems so no one would notice it was you?

None. I'm pretty open about myself (mostly) 

which poem broke you while writing it, and why did you keep going?

There are a few. Most of the poems I write about my parents are difficult to get out. But I finish them because catharsis is important. 

do you believe your poetry is honest—or do you edit honesty into something more palatable?

A little bit of both but it leans more towards honesty.

what piece of yourself have you permanently lost to the page?

What little part of normalcy I had

what do you hope your work redeems in you?

A new strength to push forward

what silence from your childhood still echoes in your writing?

I tend to write about my childhood a good bit because it was both beautiful and somewhat lost to trauma. I guess the carefree nature of childhood still echoes from time to time.

when has poetry failed you completely?

It never has

what’s a line you regret writing because it revealed too much?

I wouldn't say I regret revealing my self in specific lines. I do, however, regret a bit of my earlier writing because it was edgelord bullshit. 

do you think poetry has saved your life—or has it only prolonged the pain?

It's definitely saved my life and pulled me back from the ledge countless times. 

who do you write to when you’re at your most desperate?

Myself

what would destroy you more—your poems being forgotten or being misunderstood?

Probably being forgotten. I don't really care if I'm misunderstood as long as I understand myself. 

do you think you’ll ever stop writing, and if so, what would that death feel like?

Never

what’s the cost of making your trauma beautiful?

I don't think there's a cost. I don't really try to make my trauma beautiful though. I just try to purge it creatively.

which part of your art feels like a lie you keep telling because readers demand it?

None. I'm pretty honest with my work. If people like it, that's great. If they don't, they can move on. 

if you stripped all performance and publication away, would you still write—and if yes, what would those poems look like?

I don't think I would ever be able to stop writing, no matter what. My poems probably wouldn't change without an audience. I'll always be me. 

Kevin's Note: If you want to read some great poetry, head over to @robertjw4688 and don't forget to say hello. ALSO...you can purchase some of his poetry for yourslef or others at https://www.tumblr.com/robertjw4688/792495222802235393/the-line-breaks-between-lives-jw-robert?source=share. Last, but certainly not least...please come visit @poemitforward to learn a little more about your favorite poets. Please follow for upcoming interviews and past ones as well!!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet!! Ok folks...this week we have the one, and only (I think) Purple Monkey @purplemonkeysexgod69!! Everyone's favorite monkey around! I want to say Thank you for agreeing to put up with more of my shenanigans...just trying to bring the flock together some! Always the dream.

what desire have you written about that you’d never admit to having in real life?

Well, for obvious reasons, anything involving tentacle porn. That would be terrifying and gross in real life. Then again, I would admit to it—I just wouldn’t want it to actually happen. Honestly, I’d own up to everything I’ve written about. It’s just that, in real life, nobody ever asks.

if every poem of yours secretly revealed your sexual history, which one would get you in the most trouble?

If by “history” you mean actual sexual acts, then none—I’m a hole-in-the-sheet Puritan. That said, there was one poem inspired by an incident involving melted chocolate. Let’s just say it blurred the line between erotic experimentation and a health-and-safety violation concerning improper food handling.

what hypocrisy of yours shows up most often in your writing?

All of them, really—but the worst is my habit of calling for revolution while barely leaving my chair. Like many poets, I’m an armchair rebel: loud on the page, quiet in the streets. If I ever did act, I certainly wouldn’t announce it in verse—that’s just providing the prosecution with free evidence. My approach would be subtler anyway—sabotage the system from within, not spray blood on its walls.

when have you stolen someone else’s story or pain and passed it off as your own on the page?

Most of my poems are introspective. Someone else’s story or pain might spark a poem, but the result is my reaction to it—not a theft. I think that’s true for most poets. Now, pretending to be someone else—a trans Black bisexual poet dying of cancer, say—and writing from that false identity? That’s not art. That’s fraud with a stanza break.

if your poetry were a lover, would it be faithful or unfaithful?

It would be a batshit-crazy psychopath who’d cut off my penis, toss it in a blender, and dump it in a koi pond. Faithful? Only to chaos, typos, and poor grammar.

what’s the one thing you hope your readers never figure out about you?

If my readers haven’t figured me out by now, they’re not really readers at all.

have you ever weaponized a poem to hurt someone—and did it work? For me, poems are shields at best—reactionary, defensive tools. I’ve written a few rebuttal poems, which I suppose counts as jousting with metaphors instead of lances.

if your critics are right about you, what ugly truth would that expose? I have critics? That’s news to me. First, I’d need to have critics. Second, I’d have to know what they’ve said. And third, I’d have to care. Oh wait—I am my own worst critic. And I’m usually right. So I guess that would expose… my big penis. what’s the most taboo subject you’ve avoided writing about, not because it’s off-limits, but because you’re afraid you’d enjoy it? Nothing’s taboo. I’ll write about anything that wanders into my mind. The only thing stopping me is the current chaos of life, which makes focusing on writing feel like trying to thread a needle during an earthquake.

if your family read every draft you’ve hidden, what would they never look at you the same way about?

I have no idea. I don't hide drafts, I delete them.

what poem do you secretly hope someone thinks is about them, even though it isn’t?

None.

if you could trade all your poems for the love of one person, would you do it?

Trade poems for love? Nope. But I’d trade them all for money—the bidding starts at 100 million U.S. dollars. No crypto; that’s for criminals. I’ll also take gold coins from ancient shipwrecks.

what shame have you turned into art so often it’s practically a crutch?

Shame? Can’t say. Anger, on the other hand—definitely. Anger is my crutch.

what’s the dirtiest pleasure you’ve ever buried in metaphor so deep it came out sounding noble?

Burying things in metaphor? Not really my style. My metaphors tend to be pretty transparent, though I can’t control how people interpret them. I recently posted about the “healing power of music”—not even a metaphor—but given the heavy metal videos I followed it with, I’m guessing most missed the sarcasm. There’s a reason why psych wards blast Beethoven and not Slayer.

if poetry finally abandoned you—if the words stopped arriving—who would you be without it?

Poetry, like my penis, abandons me often. I remain the same person.

Thanks for the questions, Kevin. I despised every minute of it. Let's never do this again. 😜 May the poetry gods, or demons, be with you always. Cheers!

To really dive in to some great, unique and when you least expect it...emotional and heartfelt poetry, please head over to the Monkey @purplemonkeysexgod69 and hit the Follow! For more of these groundbreaking interviews with more poets please follow me here @poemitforward!! Until next time...love you all...mean it.

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...The Haley @kilonovai edition!! Thank you Haley!!

I finished these up a little quicker than expected! They were such great questions to answer, so thank you for putting the time into them. I think what you’re doing is really great and an integral part of the writing community. 

what’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever confessed in a poem without naming names

probably suicidal ideation. I’ve struggled with my mental health all my life and no matter how good I’m doing, it still always lingers in the background. 

if someone only read one of your poems, what false impression of you would they probably walk away with

‘what the fuck is she talking about?’ seems to be the gist for most people, at least at first. 

what’s the pettiest reason you’ve ever written a poem

I used to write a lot of petty poetry back in the day before I was formally diagnosed with schizoaffective. I didn’t know how to deal with those fluctuating emotions that come with bipolar mood swings and of course wasn’t medicated which didn’t help. I was really emotionally repressed and it showed. I just knew I didn’t feel ‘right’ and often felt angry or perturbed by other people. 

if your poetry had a vice—gambling, drinking, lust, revenge—which would it be

psychosis and/or spiritual intuition 

what part of yourself do you secretly hope people misinterpret in your work

I don’t particularly ‘hope’ anyone misinterprets things but it often happens anyways. but to me that’s like the beauty of poetry so I’m okay with people understanding what I write from their own perspective. I really like hearing different opinions and interpretations, makes me look into myself a little more. a lot of what I write is ‘stream of consciousness’ which even I don’t fully understand or grasp during the process, so hearing other interpretations sometimes helps me fill in those gaps or understand myself and others better. I’m really appreciative people read what I write at all, even more so if they take something away from it. and I know their soul or higher self will take away what they need from it for their own journey if it’s meant to do so. that’s all that matters. 

what poem of yours do you wish could be erased from existence—and why do you keep it around anyway

honestly once I write a poem it’s sort of just archived into the void. like a bloodletting. once it’s out there it’s gone to me. dead. I have no attachment to it. whenever I read older work, even if it’s just from several months ago, it just feels like it’s coming from a different person. I guess change really is inevitable, and I prefer to flow with it rather than hold onto past versions of myself. my poems are expressed emotions or snapshots in time, not the full picture. 

what’s the funniest mistake someone has ever made when quoting your work

someone on here once anonymously told me to touch grass and I had to break it to them that the grass would just change colors to me if I did. 

if all your notebooks were set on fire, which single poem would you run into the flames to save

I can say with confidence that not a single one would be worth doing so. I can always write more and those feelings were already shared and ‘bloodlet’ so I feel secure in letting them burn up to rest. I would much rather run out with my dog in my arms. then dump a bottle of beer onto the open flames. 

what’s a line you’ve written that people cheer for but you secretly dislike

I don’t think there’s a particular ‘line’ that stands out to me, but occasionally I’ll share a poem that I think is baseline or pretty ‘meh’ at best and it’ll get more attention than I thought it would. it doesn’t make me ‘dislike’ anything it just makes me a bit curious as to why that one hit more with people than others that hit more personally with me. 

if your poetry could haunt someone, who deserves to be haunted

probably myself. isn’t that the point of poetry though? like even if you write something to purposefully try to haunt someone else, at the end of the day you’re the one who wrote it. therefore you’re the one who’s being haunted. 

what’s the weirdest ritual you’ve ever tried before writing, and did it work

drinking hahahah and yes, it usually works. I can squeeze out some of those deeply repressed emotions that us intj’s hold onto like pandora’s box. :)

what would your poems say about you if they were allowed to gossip together behind your back

‘that girl is such a maniac’ ‘yeah but she has a really nice soul though’ 

what’s the cruelest truth you’ve ever tucked into a beautiful metaphor

‘this was not about you’

if you had to read one of your poems at your own funeral, which one would you choose and why

I don’t know if any one in particular would sum up the entirety of my life. maybe just bundle the ones I haven’t shared yet up into a book and release it to the public. they do say people tend to pay more attention to what you have to say after you’ve died. 

what’s the wildest thing you hope a reader might someday do after reading your work

look more into the unknown of themselves, ask more questions about the world, get further into spirituality, find their higher selves and start following its advice, find their soul families, learn what their intuitive gifts are, accept that what we know and are told is fact is not all that it seems and come to an acceptance of that truth. be a part of the bigger ‘shift’ in humanity. 

Kevin's Note: Thank you so much Haley...this was a pleasure reading and getting to know you more. *Side Note: Haley did all the formatting for me, so that's why it looks better than normal! I'm going to have to step up my formatting game now Haley...thanks!* Everyone please head over to @kilonovai for some wonderful poems and content. And also stop by @poemitforward to read the past and future interviews! Love ya all, mean it!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...The Horace @warxpunkxmonk edition!

if poetry were a drink, what would yours taste like

Maybe decent black coffee with sugar and cream sometimes. 

which poem of yours would you never let your mother read

Theres a few cause they deal with dark or intimate subjects.

what’s the strangest place you’ve ever written a line down

Probably at work or the store. If I think of a word or line then I will write it in my phone for later. My phone is full of poem fragments sadly. I dont always do something with them.

if you had to ban one cliché from poetry forever, what would it be

I wouldn't ban any. If it helps that poet express themselves then its fine. Theres no rules or restraints. 

do you edit more with scissors, fire, or duct tape

Scissors. It feels like I'm crafting more than writing sometimes. A lot of cutting and copying and pasting until its completed. 

what’s the weirdest DM or fan message you’ve ever gotten about your work

Someone sent me anon messages about liking my poems and asked me not to answer or post them. It was strange but I still appreciated it. 

if your poetry had a soundtrack, who’d be on it

Bob Dylan, Prince, The Smiths, Kendrick Lamar and others. 

what’s a word you overuse shamelessly

I try not to but I love the word "void". I could write dozens of poems using that word.

have you ever thrown out a poem and then regretted it years later

No. I will either delete it or leave it unfinished. Theres always a chance I might come back to it and finish it. I have lost a few poems and thats the worst. 

do you write more in pajamas, suits, or complete chaos

Complete chaos seems more suitable.

what’s your personal “poet superstition” before you write

I usually like to listen to music while I write and I like to write more late at night. Its the best time for me to think and be creative.

if someone only had 30 seconds to read your work, which poem would you shove in their hands

Probably my latest poem. Just in case its my last. 

Kevin's Note: First...thank you Horace for agreeing to do the interview and taking some time to answer these questions. I hope it opens some doors to new friendships! Everyone head over to @warxpunkxmonk right now and follow if you haven't already!! You'll find some great writing! Also, stop in to @poemitforward to read past and future interviews with some awesome people and poets! Never know who might be coming up next!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...the DennisDubay @vbkpoetry edition!! Those of you who know, know. Those of you who don't...should.

what do you write about that you’d never admit to your closest friend in conversation? I think if you look at the archive of what my mind has created, you'll see that my poetry is, if authentic, is never hidden. The fact of the matter is, I don't hide anything - at times, to my detriment. If I feel it, If it tells me to write it, I write it. I have to be authentic or I'm not going to write.

which poem of yours came from a place so dark you almost didn’t want to live after writing it? It's dangerous to answer this question, because you'll end up getting messages from people who don't know you, wanting to save you ... but, to answer the question, there's too many times I've written something on the edge or something that's put me on the edge; but that's the beautiful thing about writing. It makes you feel ... and for a lot of artists, the in-between of it all, sometimes feels emotionless. Words are like drugs to me. When I write something that feels good (not necessarily pretty or beautiful) but feels right, like a missing puzzle piece... that's the good shit. So even in the pain of it, it connects me to some sort of survival.

when have you dressed up your trauma so beautifully it felt like a betrayal of what really happened? All my trauma was/is/will be self inflicted - so in that sense, my trauma is the betrayal.

what line of yours do you secretly wish no one had ever read? There's a line in my first book, I used, that I regret now - about a crack dealer who held a gun to my head. I used a word that I wanted to hurt HIM with - not taking into context that other people would read the word out of context of the situation. I've never used the word before or after that one line. I never will again, regardless of situation. It is the one writing regret I have.

have you ever written a poem out of pure hatred—and did it scare you? All the time. No, it doesn't scare me. I'd rather kill you with words and walk away from it, then pull a gun and end a life and have to live with it.

which lover or enemy still lives inside your poems, even though you’d rather they didn’t? Every lover I've ever had lives somewhere in-between the lines, waiting for their chance to escape one more time from my mind. Even lovers that never actually loved me are there. My enemies are cast away as soon as they become boring.

what’s the dirtiest secret you’ve buried in metaphor, hoping readers wouldn’t catch it? It wouldn't be a secret If I told you.

do you believe poetry has healed you—or just taught you to bleed more elegantly? It's healed me, broke me, held me, mocked me, loved me, hated me, given me everything and taken away everything. Poetry is who I am. A lot of people will say that. Will state this. That poetry is who I am. And sometimes I cringe at that. When someone says that. But I am. It's all I know. It's all I'm good at. It's all I think about.

which poem of yours would devastate your family if they knew it was about them? They've probably already read it. Like I said previously, I don't hide my writing. It's there, in the open - if you don't like it, if you don't want truths, you probably should never read another line I write.

when do you feel like a fraud in your own skin as a poet, not just on the page? When I beg for eyes to see it.

what’s the ugliest part of yourself that you’ve refused to write, and why? I've written everything. I hold no secrets. You know exactly who I THINK I am. I'm a drunk. I'm a horrible friend. I try my best to be a good Dad, but I fail more than I succeed. I'm ugly. But I am honest. And you get all of me.

have you ever lied in a poem—and did anyone believe it was the truth? When I was younger, tiny little lies to get my dick sucked. When I didn't take into consideration that the mouth was connected to a heart. Other than that, I don't believe I've ever written any lies, except for the ones I tell myself.

what would devastate you more: someone dismissing your work as cliché, or someone seeing exactly who you really are in it? I think when I was younger, the idea of someone thinking my work was cliche really pissed me off. Like, you remember the early days of Tumblr - I was known to have had legitimate beef with several other writers - but as I've aged, I just ... don't fucking care what anyone thinks about my writing style. Just buy it. And fuck off.

if every poem you’ve written were read aloud in court as evidence, what crime would you be guilty of? I would be sentenced to a lifetime of making a damn decision - to live or to die.

when all your poems are stripped away, who are you really, and would you want the world to meet that person? At the very least, I am just a little boy who wanted nothing more than to never stop playing catch with his Dad - because once I did, I found a bottle that kept me connected to him forever. Meet me in the morning, at breakfast. Leave before the sun goes down.

Kevin's Note: Thank you, Dennis, for your time and trust. Just for everyone's knowledge...I'm meeting Dennis at he tumblr Bar & Grill, plopping down right next to Dennis before pleasantries, and having that first stiff drink with Dennis before anything else happens (and I' pretty sure there's shit that's going to happen that night). I'm also staying after dark...because I can. Contrary to many beliefs around here these days...dark was my home for a long fucking stint. Some ghosts visit me to remind me now and then. IF, for some strange reason, you have not followed Dennis @vbkpoetry...do so NOW. You may not read something every day there, but when you do read something, you will feel it for a long time. Also, follow @poemitforward for more interviews with more amazing writers and poets!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...the Andrew @sittinginstars edition!

what wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence

I can't remember the exact moment but I was fairly young, I just started trying to get what was in my head onto paper in the hope it would stop being such a big thought.

what’s a line you’ve written that scares you to this day

There are a few but in bits i haven't posted, a lot of negativity and intrusive thoughts on paper

do you write for yourself or for the world, and has that balance shifted over time

what have you sacrificed for poetry that you wish you hadn’t

I guess in a way happiness, there are poems I've written when i was happy but they didn't come as easy as the ones about heartbreak and loss

whose approval still matters to you, even if you pretend it doesn’t

I'm not really sure, i write for me and i feel like tumblr is a nice anonymous place to post, I guess my ex though as a lot of my pieces are trying to make sense of that

do you think poetry should comfort, provoke, or wound—and which one are you guilty of leaning toward

I think poetry can do all of that and more, mostly mine are about pain but some have glimmers of hope laced through them

what part of your life do you keep off the page, and what part refuses to stay off

I’m pretty open with everything, but my longing for the life I've lost definitely takes pride of place for what I can't stop writing about

when do you feel most fraudulent as a poet

I wrote some happy pieces when I was in a good place and now when I look at them it's like I was playing house and that part of me has been lost. I can't relate to their content anymore.  

what’s the harshest critique you ever received, and did it change you

I've only just started submitting stuff and just had standard rejections so far.  I don't really show my work to the real world much!

how do you know when a poem is finished, or do you ever really know

For me the words just stop coming and then I polish it, I try to keep it to just that to avoid over thinking if its done.

who do you secretly write to, even if you’ll never admit it

Sarah, always.

what’s the ugliest truth you’ve ever had to put into words

Heartbreak, despair, hitting rock bottom, there's been a few.

do you believe poetry can actually change the world, or only the poet

In the moment the poet can, but words live on way beyond mortal shells, think of all the poems from history that are still relevant long after the poet is gone.

when people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life

That as dark as it seems, no matter how hard it gets there is hope and the knowledge that you’re not alone in this.

**Thank you, Andrew, for your time and your trust. I appreciate everything!! I hope you enjoyed answering these challenging questions. On to the next!! Please follow @sittinginstars for great poetry and @poemitforward for insightful interviews. There are more coming!!

[poemitforward]

"Get To Know The Poet"...and this week we get to know @simply-eno-again!

What's the most scandalous line you've written that you knew would get a reaction?

Ahhh, I don't know if anything has ever been that deep for me. I know a few years back I had written a poem titled "You Said I'm Going to Hell", and that seemed to upset someone that was following me and thinking that I was personally attacking them. Personally, though, I never think that my poetry or writing will garner much attention.

If your poems had a dating profile, what would their biggest red flag be?

Conceitedness. My poetry tends towards narcissism in my opinion, and I think that's the biggest red flag.  Talking about oneself in the manner that I do should make anyone run away from that dating profile, because I wouldn't date that and neither should you.

If every metaphor you've ever written suddenly came true, which one would terrify you the most?

There's a metaphor hidden somewhere in the monster of Superstition. What the exact metaphor would be, I couldn't tell you, since the creature is an amalgamation of my own inner horrors and folk tales about what goes bump in the night. I think if I were to go into depth about the metaphor itself, it would spoil the story (which I will be posting again soon, I'm just too tired to find it in my sporadic notes).

What unfinished poem still haunts you, whispering like an ex you can't block?

I had written once about the mountains one morning, the sunlight cresting the peaks and coloring the sky in the most majestic pinks, purples, reds, and gold. And I could never bring myself to finish it because my words cannot describe what an incredible sight it was. It haunts me more than any ghost of my past.

If your younger self could read your poems today, what would they accuse you of?

Losing sight of the imagery. I've stopped using superfluous language, something that my younger self quite enjoyed. My younger self was a tell-it-all-detailer, and I think they would find that I have cut and slashed a lot of that sort of language from my poetry especially.

What's the most intimate thing you've revealed in a poem without even realizing it until later?

A few years ago, shortly before I joined the military, I was in therapy. I wrote a series that I titled "The Things I Can Verify I Am, and What That Means". I wrote one themed around an aspect of my personality that I view as an apology. It centered around me constantly saying sorry to an unknown "you", and the reasons why I might apologize. It wasn't until later that the "you" was just another version of myself that I wasn't ready to accept; that I was only apologetic for not being my most authentic self. Did I realize this while I was in therapy? No, I only realized this within the last year or so of writing it when I found myself apologizing profusely for just trying to be who I am. The last line is fitting: I am an apology, but I am not fucking sorry. (Excuse my foul language.)

If your poetry could be arrested, what would be the charges?

Public intoxication. I do not have a drinking problem, but I do like to drink publicly. I find myself writing a lot when I am drinking, and I think that if anything would get my poetry arrested, it would be the tomfoolery scene that it would cause with alcohol involved.

Which poem of yours is basically a dare to the reader?

"We Became Strangers Again". I believe the-original-b had prompted me with it. It goes over the course of two people starting as strangers, becoming friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers again. I dare the readers to find that sort of relationship and really evaluate what turning points lead them to becoming strangers with someone that they once cared about. I know where all of my relationships have ended, and a great many of them are strangers now.

What's the most ridiculous situation or emotion that somehow ended up becoming a poem anyway?

Oof. My ex-fiancé and I had liked to talk late night walks to my older brother's house. One night, it had rained pretty heavily and there were worms all over the roads and sidewalks, and he kept stepping on them and squishing them. But, when we had finally reached my brother's house, my brother was working on getting a bat out of the living room, and had said that he would probably kill it if he hit it with the broom. My ex freaked out and said that my brother was a bad person for unnecessarily killing the bat. Anyway, I wrote a poem titled "To Kill the Worm, To Save the Bat" highlighting the hypocrisy of my ex.

If someone read your entire body of work out loud in one sitting, what embarrassing pattern would they discover?

Probably my overuse of "I". My first person experience is my downfall. I did have a professor tell me that my poetry was lackluster and bland

because it is typically about my experience. I didn't have anything to retort with that sort of criticism, but I have never changed.

What have your poems taught you about yourself that you didn't want to know?

I don't know if there was anything I didn't want to know about myself. I went through therapy to help me identify myself better, and used my poetry as a way of exploring my personality and qualities. I think if

anything, everything that I have learned about myself has been an eye opener, and allowed me to self-reflect in a way that I don't think I could have without the use of my poetry.

If poetry were banned tomorrow, what would be your underground method of smuggling it back into the world?

I am not a smuggler. I have very strong opinions and will voice them, unfortunately, as a sailor, I have to be careful about anything that would be considered treason. Therefore, open rebellion is the only way I would be bringing poetry back.

What poem of yours would you use as a weapon if you had to?

"Brick Wall", simply because it is about throwing myself at an obstacle that won't move. A brick can do a lot of damage.

If one of your poems became a rumor about you, which rumor would you secretly enjoy?

"A Goddess and Their Star". It gives me the appearance of being more seductive and elusive in a manner that I just am not. I am not a confident lover, and that whole poem was just so unlike myself that I always forget that I'm the one who wrote it. So, if the rumor went around that I was that hot, I would like it.

As an aside, I realize that a lot of these poems have since been deleted because I keep deleting my blog, but I will repost them so that anyone who reads this can understand the context.

Thank you so much for this opportunity, Kevin! I had so much fun working on this!

**Kevin's Note: Thank you sooooo much Emmy for this wonderful interview, for your time, and for your trust! Everyone pop on over to @simply-eno-again and follow to read incredibly beautiful words and poetry...NOT boring (stupid professors are stupid). Also, First round is on me Dear...looks like you will have to meet Matt @raisethecurve and I for a drink at the tumblr Bar & Grill one day!! Also, please follow me over at @poemitforward for past and upcoming interviews! @takingstockofwhatmattersmost for my original poetry shananigans! Love you all...mean it.

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...This week it's Valeria @wrentalks

First of all, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for thinking of me! I don't even consider myself a poet, to be honest, so, again, thanks :)

What wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence?

Oh but this is sweet. Not a wound, no. A love. A bright one, a burning one; he was a poet too and so he encouraged me to write. I will forever be grateful to him, even if he's no longer a part of my life.

Which poem of yours would you never let your mother read?

All of them! I don't have a good relationship with my mom, she's very controlling and judging so I carefully choose what to tell her. Besides, English is not my first language, and she doesn't speak it, so... she wouldn't even understand what I write. In more than one way.

What's a line you’ve written that still scares you?

Okay this is a very interesting question. I can't say my own words scare me. But surely they haunt me. So, I think, my most haunting words are these:

In your dreams, do you cease to exist? In your dreams, do you finally come alive?

I often feel like in my dreams I can be myself in a way that's never really possible when I'm out and about in the so called "real" world.

What’s the strangest place you’ve ever written a line down?

I don't think it's so strange in general, but it was strange for me because I usually write at home. That time it was a parking lot instead, and I was in between work's appointments. It was early october, and the light changed in a way that made me feel things, so I had to write them down.

Do you write for yourself or for the world, and has that balance shifted over time? Mostly for myself. I know it's an old cliché, but I really have to let out words and feelings and images that live in my mind and soul. And of course, since I have a blog, I write for others too: I'm always curious to discover which of my writings will be the most liked (it's not always my own favorites that get liked the most, so it's often a surprise). And when someone says that they can relate to my words... well, it's the best feeling, to be honest. A warm acknowledgement, it makes me so happy. I think I have a nice balance now, something that works for me; I've opened this blog very recently, so I didn't have time to change my mind yet. I'll see what the future will bring.

If you had to ban one cliché from poetry forever, what would it be? Not a single one! I like most of them. Because, what's a cliche? In my opinion, it's just something that resonated so much with so many people, across time and space, that it has become like an easy road to walk, so why would I ban it? That said, there is a cliche that I hate (and still I wouldn't ban it). It's the "I would love you in any lifetime" and "we are soulmates brought together by destiny" cliche, because I see it used for each and every muse someone finds, even if they find a muse every six months or so. Besides, it has been used with me one time too many, so I have personal reasons too ;) Poets lie, and while we all live for their lies, some of them feel staler than others.

What have you sacrificed for poetry that you wish you hadn’t?

I haven't really sacrificed anything. My writings have only enriched my life so far.

Which living poet would you love to get drunk with and why?

Rupi Kaur. Her words are so powerful to me, I have all her books and they have helped me so much during some of my hardest periods... and she's had such an interesting life! A truly magnificent woman, I would love to get drunk with her!

What part of your life do you keep off the page, and what part refuses to stay off?

I try to never say anything about my so called "real" life, details about my age, my relationships, where I live and so on. I write about my inner world and my inner monologue, that can never be absent from what I put on the page.

What's the weirdest DM or fan message you’ve ever gotten about your work?

Well! After just one collaboration and a few kind messages about each other's writings, someone decided we were in a committed and romantic relationship, and so they felt very angry and frustrated that I posted some sad writings about the end of love because hey! They were trying to make me happy!! How ungrateful of me!!

When do you feel most fraudulent as a poet?

As I said in the beginning, I don't even consider myself a poet. What I write feels more like a poetic version of my own diary.

if your poetry had a soundtrack, who’d be on it?

Such a nice question! Hozier, mainly, all his songs, and then Ludovico Einaudi and some Nightwish too.

What's the ugliest truth you’ve ever had to put into words?

There are so many... how lonely I feel, the way my fire, which I thought was endless, has gone, and how ugly I was in my grieving. 

All the things I can't say out loud in my everyday life.

What’s your personal “poet superstition” before you write?

Oh this is not original at all. I just have to be on my pc, in my own room, more or less in the evening, when the sun sets, and nobody will bother me. I need a room of my own, like Virginia Woolf said.

When people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life?

I honestly don't think that people will remember me at all! But if they will, I wish to be remembered as a safe person. As someone who made people feel at ease, never judged, always encouraged to be who they truly are. If this happens through what I write or how I live it's not relevant to me, but if I am to leave something behind, I wish it to be the feeling of freedom, like a breath of fresh air.

So, this was really interesting and I've enjoyed it so much, I've never been interviewed before and it gave me the opportunity to reflect back on my (brief, for now) journey with writing. Thanks again, a lot! To you and to anyone who will read this :)

Kevin's Note: Valeria, thank you for your time and for the chance to get to know you a little better. Everyone please head over to @wrentalks NOW for more wonderful words and poetry. Also, please follow me here @poemitforward for more "Get To Know The Poet" pieces. Love you all...mean it!!

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...and it's Kevin's turn @cherokeeghostwriter

what’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever confessed in a poem without naming names?

I'm not sure about dangerous confessions per se, but I have found it uncomfortable and intimidating to share intimate feelings with complete strangers. However, it has also been liberating to be able to express myself openly to other people, that I will most likely never meet in person.

if someone only read one of your poems, what false impression of you would they probably walk away with?

There is no telling what someone might take away from one of my poems. One of the interesting things I have learned from sharing poetry here on Tumblr is that, there are enumerable interpretations of a poem depending on who is reading it. I usually know what it is that I am trying to express or convey, but once you put it out there it has a life of its own.

what’s the pettiest reason you’ve ever written a poem?

I'm not sure if you mean petty as in trivial, or petty as in spiteful, but I once wrote a poem about finding a ball of lint in my pocket, and I have also written a poem in response to an ugly message sent to me in private over a poem they didn't like.

if your poetry had a vice (gambling, drinking, lust, revenge) which would it be?

Some of my early tries at poetry involved drinking. Which makes sense because I was deep into the tail end of being an alcoholic. Several of those poems were written while going through DTs. It was an unpleasant period of time for me and everyone around me.

I've never been a gambler, or had issues with lust. Revenge on the other hand... I would think that "Envy" would be a more common ailment among poets.

what part of yourself do you secretly hope people misinterpret in your work?

I've pretty much laid myself bare over the years.

what poem of yours do you wish could be erased from existence…and why do you keep it around anyway?

Yes well, the list is too long but I think you remember back when there was a "Nonsensical Poetry" event held by... I think it was Soulindivision. I wrote a poem titled "Elephant Talk" I spent days trying to be so creative, that I outwitted myself. I leave it because it reminds me of the early years, with new friends, and just having fun with it.

what’s the funniest mistake someone has ever made when quoting your work?

I haven't got a clue.

if all your notebooks were set on fire, which single poem would you run into the flames to save?

The most important poem that I have ever written, was delivered to the person it was intended for in a letter long ago. The rest doesn't really matter.

what’s a line you’ve written that people cheer for but you secretly dislike?

I have no idea.

if your poetry could haunt someone, who deserves to be haunted?

@purplemonkeysexgod69

what’s the weirdest ritual you’ve ever tried before writing, and did it work?

I had a special pencil I used for first drafts. I had it for a very long time. It was my father's from back in the day when he was a draftsman at Aérospatiale. It was this cool shade of blue and quite sleek in appearance. Sadly it has been whittled down to an unusable nub. I keep the nub in a box, with other things that are the equivalent of a nub.

what would your poems say about you if they were allowed to gossip together behind your back?

They would probably get uproariously drunk, and strip my library down for parts, then wander off to destinations unknown.

what’s the cruelest truth you’ve ever tucked into a beautiful metaphor?

"All of the fields have gone fallow

And summers gone"

if you had to read one of your poems at your own funeral, which one would you choose and why?

I've always been partial to this poem.

Little bird of blue

I’ve listened carefully as you sing

Your bright notes floating down

Through my opened window

In the early spring

What a joyous noise these

Tiny piping twitter trills, as they fall

On a time that needs remembering

Of youthful summer days

Of moonlit nights, I now recall

Please

Do not forget me

Little bird of blue

When a winters wind has come

And in my longing heart I think of you.

what’s the wildest thing you hope a reader might someday do after reading your work?

I would be happy to be read by anyone. It would be a bonus if they felt some of the emotions that I tried to convey. I think that's the best I could hope for.

Kevin’s Note:  A huge Thank you to Kevin @cherokeeghostwriter for your time and agreeing to do this with me!  Everyone head over to Kev’s page and follow right NOW!  Stay tuned for more interviews and also follow @poemitforward to ensure you don’t miss any!!  Love you all…mean it!  

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...

Ok folks, it's Matt's turn in the chair!! Oh...it's back to @raisethecurve, which is MUCH more to my liking!! Everyone get over there and follow (re-follow for much of us) as soon as humanly possible!! Thanks Matt, for your time and your great answers. So, much wisdom.

1. What wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence?

The first time I consciously chose poetry over silence was when I was a freshman in high school. A dear friend of the family was in a very dark place, and I felt that terrible helplessness of being young and not knowing what to say or how to fix it. The silence felt like a failure. So, instead of speaking, I wrote. I emailed her a poem titled Rain Falls. 

The closing stanza:

Always be yourself

or without you the world could not turn,

comforting every creature,

assuring tomorrow, another day to

live.

Looking back, it was the first poem I’d ever written in free verse, in my own breath. For a long time, I believed rhyme and constraint were the highest form of elegance. But that moment taught me something else. It taught me that the real work lies in weaving raw emotion into meaning against the void, walking that fine line between chaos and clarity.

2. Which poem of yours would you never let your mother read?

That's a funny one for me. My mom, and as I found out later, my brother, actually read everything I posted on my blog when I was younger. There was no hiding. At the time, it could be incredibly embarrassing, especially when I was trying to be some kind of rebellious artist. But that embarrassment was instructive. It was a loving, grounding force that taught me there’s a very fine line between bold experimentation and simple foolishness. They’re both gone now, and I miss that gentle accountability. There's nothing I'd hide from them; their eyes on my work taught me how to be honest in the first place.

3. What’s a line you’ve written that still scares you?

It wasn’t a single line so much as a whole poem when my own voice became unfamiliar to me. I actually quit writing for a while because of it. I wrote a Secret Santa gift for @kathrrinka titled caverns in the snow with a couplet that went,

look at your winter clothes so hung

as to drip onto brick below / the fire.

It was simple, imagistic, and it felt like it came from someone else. It scared me because I realized I was changing, maturing into a writer I didn't recognize. I worried I was being pretentious, or worse, stealing someone else's voice. I’ve since come to terms with it—that whole period was just a record of my becoming. The fear is gone now because I know that voice is mine.

4. What’s the strangest place you’ve ever written a line down?

I filled every square inch of the windows of my mom's hospital rooms when she was dying. I wrote directly on the glass with markers—poems, phrases, memories. The nurses would come in and read them. It turned a sterile, frightening space into something sacred. It was less about writing a poem and more about changing the air we had to breathe.

5. Do you write for yourself or for the world, and has that balance shifted over time?

That balance used to be a constant rotation—writing for myself, then for my loved ones, for the world, and then cycling back again. But that's no longer the case. There was a point of epiphany where the orbit simply stopped. For a while now, it has been, and I believe will always be, for God. The audience has become singular, and in that, the purpose of the work is made clear.

6. If you had to ban one cliché from poetry forever, what would it be?

I couldn’t ban a single one. I’ve come to believe that everything has its place. Every trope we now see as a cliché was, at its inception, a stroke of undeniable genius. It became a cliché because it worked so well that everyone wanted to use it. To ban one would be to disrespect the moment of brilliance that it was born from.

7. What have you sacrificed for poetry that you wish you hadn’t?

Honestly, I wish I had sacrificed more. There’s a version of my life in another universe where I dedicated everything to it—where I went to graduate school, became a poetry professor, and spent my life guiding and inspiring new voices. I don’t regret the life I have, not for a second, but I sometimes feel a pang for the life that was even more deeply submerged in the craft.

8. Which living poet would you love to get drunk with and why?

I’d love to have a few beers with Ken Arkind; his work has a power and a pulse that I really admire. And honestly, Kevin, I’d love to have that drink with you. It’s a regret that we never managed to meet up before I moved out to Rhode Island. I find I'm much more interested in genuine connection than in celebrity.

9. What part of your life do you keep off the page, and what part refuses to stay off?

Nothing is truly off the page. Sooner or later, everything finds its way there because writing is how I process my life. There is a distinction in the process, though, that has become very clear to me: my life always improves when I read, and I always understand why when I write.

10. What’s the weirdest DM or fan message you’ve ever gotten about your work?

I've always been genuinely flattered whenever someone takes the time to write to me about my work. The messages have been overwhelmingly kind. I did have one very persistent offer from someone who wanted to be my 'sugar mama.' It was strange but also oddly validating in a way. I had to politely decline, though. I wasn't looking to start a new life with a stranger, no matter how generous the offer.

11. When do you feel most fraudulent as a poet?

I used to feel it most when I convinced myself that I had to post something, that I needed to keep feeding the machine. There's this immense pressure to constantly produce, but art doesn't work that way. I’ve learned that it is always, always better to take your time and craft something you are truly proud of than to publish something out of fear or obligation. Your voice is not a commodity.

12. If your poetry had a soundtrack, who’d be on it?

It would be a very specific three-album rotation. For the spoken word pieces, it would be The Blue Man Group's album The Complex—it has this propulsive feeling of hope and growth. For the romantic poems, it’s Joss Stone’s Mind Body & Soul, which perfectly captures the innocence and warmth of youth. And for the more meditative free verse, it would have to be Tool’s album Undertow. That record sounds like the very act of waiting, watching, and learning.

13. What’s the ugliest truth you’ve ever had to put into words?

It's probably a tie between the two foundational fears: the moment you realize 'I don't love you anymore,' and the moment you realize, 'I don't love myself.' You can fool your own eyes for a while, but the aftertaste of a poem written from those places never lies. I think that's why artists grow, often violently. Most people sit with their feelings, observe them. Artists are required to eat their feelings—savor them at first, then break them down for nourishment. You have to metabolize the ugly truths to survive.

14. What’s your personal “poet superstition” before you write?

My superstition is scribbling. I'm a firm believer in the mind-body connection, and I think the pen and paper are the oldest, most ingrained pathways we have. If I’m feeling blocked or uninspired, I’ll just scribble on a blank page. I let the pen move until the scribbles start to look like letters, and the letters form words, and the words become a phrase. Then I treat that first phrase like a seed and see if it will grow.

15. When people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life?

In the grand scheme of things, I don't think I'll be remembered, and that's okay. But if any legacy remains, I hope it’s not in the words I wrote but in the actions I took. I hope that my life, in some small way, genuinely uplifted and empowered others.

There's a Bible verse, Matthew 25:40, that guides me:

'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'

I would rather my life be a quiet example of that than have my name on the spine of any book.

**Kevin's Note: It has been wonderful having Matt's words back here on the TWC!! Truly a great poet and gentleman! I wouldn't count out that drink, stranger things have happened! Maybe we'll get to all hang out at the tumblr bar and grill with all the other tumblr-ites one of these days!! I hope so! First round is on me!**

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet...It's @fille--de--joies This Week.

First of all thank you, Kevin, for inviting me to join you for this interview. Mwah!

Q - what do you write about that you’d never admit to your closest friend in conversation

A - well i don't think there are any thoughts i wouldn't share with my closest friend, more so when it comes to my poetry themes. But let's say, um, perhaps certain sexual kinks i had wrote about, like threesomes.

Q - which poem of yours came from a place so dark you almost didn’t want to live after writing it

A - this might sound disappointing but my dark places and traumas don't directly inspire my poetry. Of course i do write about dark themes like pain and anger, but, most of the time, they're encompassed in intimacy and romantic interpersonal subtleties. So it's never so dark i don't want to live after writing it. Writing and being read do actually help me want to live, no matter the place the poem comes from.

Q - when have you dressed up your trauma so beautifully it felt like a betrayal of what really happened

A - that's the magic of poetry, isn't it? As i said earlier i am not directly inspired by my traumas, i however do sometimes find that certain poems i wrote sound too mellow for the painful experience they depict. A poem like Her Tea would be a typical example thereof.

Q - what’s the weirdest DM or fan message you’ve ever gotten about your work

A - i think it was in 2019, when i used to post my poems along with my nudes. Some of the people that had approached me back then told me that my texts turned them on more than the photos did. I wasn't sure if it was a compliment, but i appreciated the fact that i was attentively read despite the visual distraction

Q - what line of yours do you secretly wish no one had ever read

A - "tell me I'm your best disciple,

and that, hereafter, I am allowed

to eat out of your hands."

Q - have you ever written a poem out of pure hatred—and did it scare you

A - what's hatred? To me hatred is a manifestation of extreme anger directed toward someone. If we stick to this definition, then yes i have written poems expressing this kind of rage and frustration. It didn't scare me, it was rather liberating because it wasn't actual hatred, just a passing wrath.

Q - which lover or enemy still lives inside your poems, even though you’d rather they didn’t

A - i don't write about enemies. My love is my absolute male muse, and they remain so until i learn, with their active help, to unlove them. Once they're unloved, the poetic drought starts, and it lasts until the beginning of a new cycle. So the lover that still lives inside my poems is welcome therein, and i am grateful for the supply of inspiration.

Q - what’s the dirtiest secret you’ve buried in metaphor, hoping readers wouldn’t catch it

A - like, i mean, i am actually posting my stuff on tumblr precisely to share all my dirty secrets. Why would I want to bury it in a metaphor that no one would catch? Anyways, I think that my writing style isn't cryptic enough to hide any kind of particular thought.

Q - do you believe poetry has healed you—or just taught you to bleed more elegantly

A - i think it has taught me to be more resilient emotionally.

Q - which poem of yours would devastate your family if they knew it was about them

A - I've never written poems about my family (i.e. my parents). I don't think anything I'd write about them would devastate them, they know my grudges. I speak my mind too much, too often. I won't write poems expressing such noxious thoughts.

Q - when do you feel like a fraud in your own skin as a poet, not just on the page

A - not like a fraud but rather a certain kind of dissociation when i reread some particular poems i had written a while ago and remember the context, i say to myself: oh fuck, and what did they reply to this?

Q - what’s the ugliest part of yourself that you’ve refused to write, and why

A - my clumsiness because it leaks everywhere, regardless.

Q - have you ever lied in a poem—and did anyone believe it was the truth

A - no, what's the point of writing if it's not to spill one's guts?

Q - what would devastate you more: someone dismissing your work as cliché, or someone seeing exactly who you really are in it

A - dismissing as cliché is a little bit harsh indeed, but it's fine. Someone seeing exactly who i really am doesn't bother me at all. Again, as I've said earlier i don't post here to hide my inner self.

Q - if every poem you’ve written were read aloud in court as evidence, what crime would you be guilty of

A - optimistic recidivism

Q - when all your poems are stripped away, who are you really, and would you want the world to meet that person

A - why would the world want to meet an utter mess?

**Kevin's Note: Again, thank you so much @fille--de--joies for this! I appreciate your time. Love ya...Mwah! **. Everyone head over to @poemitforward and follow for all the interviews and all the ones still coming up! If you have any burning questions for another poet, let me know and I'll see if they would want to sit in for an interview...same thing if you have a particular poet you want me to interview, shoot me their URL. Love ya all...mean it.

[poemitforward]

Everyone please join me in welcoming Bree @bansheebeez to the TWC! Thank you so much Bree for agreeing to join me for this special interview. I appreciate your time and openness. Head over to Bree’s page for some great poetry and maybe some fun chats! Also, please follow @poemitforward for more intriguing interviews with folks you want to know better and folks you might not know you want to know better….yet. Thank you all for visiting!

what wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence?

I used to write a lot of fiction because books provided a pretty decent distraction or escape. I wrote from a young age about characters that grew very close to the heart but when I was the victim of sexual trauma, I stopped writing. The most poetry I'd written up until this point was for creative writing classes in school. Something led me to start scrolling through pinterest and i found quotes from excerpts of poems or diaries written by these amazing women like virginia wolfe or anais nin. In my despair I started to copy them into journals. It’d still be a while before I began to write again but hearing these women alchemize their suffering into art, a very relatable suffering at that, was a turning point for me. Poetry was there for me when even I abandoned myself.

which poem of yours would you never let your mother read?

Probably ‘vomiting black ink’ which is about my ex-boyfriend and pretty sexually charged if i’m gonna be honest–

what’s a line you’ve written that still scares you?

This is from a poem I wrote about driving home after work through the farming fields in my home town, after the restaurant I waited tables at closed for the night. I would drive past this strip of overwhelming large telephone lines. I parked under them with a guy a few years ago and every time I drove past them I remembered him, not with fondness.

I reach streets I once traveled down/ I hope/ This is the last time I see those power lines in the distance.// Poems too scary to keep on paper

It’s important to be honest in poetry about how I’m feeling, even if it’s scary. I wasn’t doing well at the time and it’s relevant to note that I have a new route home; that I wouldn’t feel that way even if I took the same drive.

what’s the strangest place you’ve ever written a line down?

I think a lot of poets have experienced the panic of thinking up a good line from the driver’s seat of a car.

do you write for yourself or for the world, and has that balance shifted over time?

I write for myself. Actually, I remember the shift happened when I read “Big Magic” by Elizabeth Gilbert which is a FANTASTIC book about living creatively beyond fear. She inspired me to write out of love for the craft with a sense of curiosity, like a child at play. Years later I listened to an episode of “Creative Pep Talk” where the host implored us to share our work. He described it like being creative is fulfilling our own hero cycle but we’re helping other people finish their heroes cycles by exposing them to our work. This inspired me to share my work on tumblr and continue submitting to journals!

if you had to ban one cliché from poetry forever, what would it be?

I can’t think of one because, if done correctly and used with intention, i think cliches can be powerful. They are cliches for a reason. However, I hate lowkey acrostic poems.

what have you sacrificed for poetry that you wish you hadn’t?

Two years ago I re-enrolled in the community college’s creative writing program. It’s probably not the path I was meant to take, even though I had fun. I wasted a lot of money, was working full-time waiting tables on top of a full load of classes, and felt a lot of anxiety when my grades slipped into oblivion. Besides, I like writing too much to be fully dependent on it as a career.

which living poet would you love to get drunk with and why?

The answer has to easily be Marie Howe, but Richard Siken places in close second. The reason I would say Howe is two fold–one being that she writes the type of poetry I very much want to write. I think we have similar life experiences and views. But two, Marie Howe is from Rochester, New York where I grew up and live today. I know Rochester is flawed but I imagine having a teary eyed conversation with an idol about the intricate beauty of a city where you both grew up. It warms my heart to think about it.

what part of your life do you keep off the page, and what part refuses to stay off?

I struggle to write about my relationship with God. Sometimes I do anyways, and it often comes out wrong. The most recent poem about religion was about God’s love and… it didn’t feel right. The one before that was about God’s hate. That felt wrong too.

I write a lot about dreams and signs and trauma. My unpublished chapbook, Dried Creation, is about reconciling who I was before my trauma and who I am now; a very different, older, and kinder self. And yet the same self, which I have trouble believing. Themes of this show up in a lot of my work.

what’s the weirdest DM or fan message you’ve ever gotten about your work?

when do you feel most fraudulent as a poet?

I used to sign my name at the bottom of my posts, which felt a little egotistical. I wonder why, considering I wrote them haha.

if your poetry had a soundtrack, who’d be on it?

Twenty One Pilots, for the mental health and growth aspect, and glass animals album ‘I Love You So Fucking Much” for the vibes.

what’s the ugliest truth you’ve ever had to put into words?

This is from the first poem I wrote after the fact. It is called Virgin and it is about stress dreams I’d begun to have of my teeth falling out. I’ll leave the rest to interpretation.

Nothing will ever be the same.// Life hereafter will forever be the aftermath of// not having three molars in the back of my mouth.

what’s your personal “poet superstition” before you write?

Sometimes I worry if I put my fears to paper they will come true. But sometimes I worry if I don’t, they’re just out there waiting to manifest. That’s a tricky one–

when people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life?

To quote Mosab Abu Toha, from an interview by Syracuse University News, “My poetry is a record of what happened. I will not forget what happens to me. I do not want people who come after me to forget what happened.”

[poemitforward]

Get To Know The Poet. Sir Mike Frawley @mikefrawley...The Interview

what wound or moment first made you reach for poetry instead of silence?

Very dark times. I had been recently fired from my career job due to my addiction. For no special reason, I wrote three poems. Probably only because I was bored and needed something to keep my mind occupied. I still have those poems today.

what’s a line you’ve written that scares you to this day?

No special line, but I used to worry about writing F Bomb Poems too often, or my few daring sexetry poems. I thought everyone would hate and unfollow me since I was supposed to be the “nice” poet. I’m pleased to say we all survived.

do you write for yourself or for the world, and has that balance shifted over time?

Originally, I started writing regularly because my friends at work encouraged me to. I came upon it almost accidentally, but my greatest joy has been the ability to hopefully touch, encourage, and help others feel via words.

what have you sacrificed for poetry that you wish you hadn’t?

It’s funny, but likely based on the shall we say interesting life I’ve led, which includes addiction and being diagnosed as Bi-Polar Type II, writing has greatly helped me with my ongoing journey to wellness. I believe writing has been a very kind gift given by someone or something far greater than me, and I remain very grateful. I honestly don’t feel like I’ve sacrificed anything.

whose approval still matters to you, even if you pretend it doesn’t?

Your honor, I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me. LOL but true. Thankfully, it used to be of MUCH greater importance than it is now, and I vehemently deny having ever said any of this. Here’s something a friend at work told me many years ago: you’re much nicer when they (Tumblr) like your poems.

what’s a poem you wish you had written, and why?

That’s a very easy question to answer. It would have to be Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”. I first read this when I was yet very young, and to this day I still remember the last verse by heart.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

- Robert Frost

do you think poetry should comfort, provoke, or wound—and which one are you guilty of leaning toward?

Of those rather eclectic options, I would definitely choose comfort. I truly enjoy writing poetry and prose that uplifts people’s spirits.

what part of your life do you keep off the page, and what part refuses to stay off?

I’m not sure if I actually avoid anything, but I have been accused of hurting someone a time or two, and I’ve apparently angered people a couple of times. I’ve never intentionally tried to hurt anyone with my words, and that I will always try to stay away from them. I won’t however, allow possibly angering someone stop me if I believe in what I’m saying.

when do you feel most fraudulent as a poet?

That’s another tough one, but here goes. As far as poetry, I write as myself, and I wouldn’t know how to do it any other way, so it’s pretty much what you see is what you get.

what’s the harshest critique you ever received, and did it change you? Other than a couple of trolls along the way, most people on Tumblr have been either very kind or simply quiet. My ego and insecurity have by far been my harshest critics, which reminds of another favorite 12-step quote from long ago, “I’m an egomaniac with an inferiority complex”.

how do you know when a poem is finished, or do you ever really know?

Sometimes it’s so obviously done you don’t even worry about it, while others it’s more of a that’s all I’ve got, I hope they like it.

who do you secretly write to, even if you’ll never admit it?

Currently, no one, though at least four muses have inspired me over my twenty plus years of writing. If any poems were ever written “secretly”, the person who inspired my words would probably be 100% certain it was for and to them.

what’s the ugliest truth you’ve ever had to put into words?

Personally, it would have to be my only brother’s suicide when he was 19. At first, I wrote about it as therapy for myself, only to discover that suicide is an irreversible tragedy which affects far too many of us. A few people have told me how my words on this topic have helped them. I’m very grateful to have been given that opportunity.

do you believe poetry can actually change the world, or only the poet?

Both. Yes, I probably danced around that one a bit, but all of us can help with our words and with our hearts. All we need is enough people to care.

when people remember you, do you want them to remember your poems or your life?

Before I attempt to answer that, I want to say thank you Kevin! I’m honored to be invited and can’t wait to see more of our friend’s stories showing up on my dash. Now to answer your question, I believe my life has actually written my words for me, so either would be fine. My greatest wish would be for a few people to remember me with “He always brought the heart”.

**Kevin's Note** First, I want to thank everyone's favorite poet, Mike, for agreeing to do this. With these questions...it could have gotten ugly quick! ;-) Thankfully, Mike handled them with his usual calm and easy tone. I have another interview scheduled for next week, so stay tuned!