We spend a lot of time on Twitter. (We’re Tweetspeak Poetry,  after all.) In fact, we figure we read thousands of tweets every month. One of the things poetry and Twitter have in common (when done well) is an economy of words. When we see good Twitter poems, we stop and take notice.

In no particular order, here are ten of the best Twitter poems we’ve seen in lately:

1.

#haiku #poetry #micropoetry one step then another the heron barely a ripple

— John Wisdom (@john34239) August 15, 2014

2.

Coffee steam reminds • Ghosts of things can be better • Than the thing itself … #haiku #micropoetry #amwriting — HighNoonHaiku (@highnoonhaiku) August 14, 2014

3.

in the “o” of the hotel sign sparrows build a nest #senryu

— Paul David Mena (@pauldavidmena) August 13, 2014

4.

a change of heart– the wings forming inside the chrysalis #haiku — Marianne Paul (@mariannpaul) September 7, 2014

5.

until the grain in the oak floor flows— zazen #poetry #micropoetry #haiku 1359

— Sondra (@SondraJByrnes) September 7, 2014

6.

dancing in the mist the majesty of her drift a snowflake descends #haiku — George Mat (@gsmm67) September 5, 2014

7.

daddy longlegs the evening’s change to lamplight #haiku

— Simon Chard (@simon_chard) September 4, 2014

8.

The city street crowds I love how we can all be No one together #haiku — Jay Pea (@Asterias_Hand) August 31, 2014

9.

#haiku #micropoetry no better explanation of blue than berry ~ pic.twitter.com/OAskhMneeS

— Coyote (@CoyoteSings) August 30, 2014

10.

circling vulture / meditating calculus / adjusts one feather #iKu#haikuhttp://t.co/k3CmgVGF77 — Naked Alien Tiwago (@thenakedalien) August 28, 2014

Photo by Jenny Downing, Creative Commons license via Flickr. 

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LW Willingham

Director of Many Things; Senior Editor, Designer and Illustrator at Tweetspeak Poetry

I used to be a claims adjuster, helping people and insurance companies make sense of loss. Now, I train other folks with ladders and tape measures to go and do likewise. Sometimes, when I’m not scaling small buildings or crunching numbers with my bare hands, I read Keats upside down.

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