Did you know that celebrated poet Charles Simic writes in bed? We love that casual approach to a seriously successful poetry life.
So, thanks to Simic, we’re daring you to get casual about poetry for National Poetry Month. Just choose your approach (or multiple approaches) from the list below. We’ll feature some of your creative responses, share others via Twitter and Facebook, and even publish some that are a total fit…in a special e-book.
• Photograph your jeans in a poetic fashion
• Write poems about your jeans (or someone else’s)
• Charles-Simic-style, try writing a daily poem in bed, before you get up each day
• Pick a poet, or a group of poets, to read throughout NPM. Go casual. Don’t like a poem? Choose not to finish it. Love a poem? Take it apart and patch it back together with words of your own (or mix and match with other poets’ words, cento style). Please be sure to credit the source poem or poems, including author names
• Write poems about a jeans company, historic or new to the scene. Do a little research about the company before writing
How We’ll Feature Your Poetry Jeans
Some of your jeans poems and jeans photographs will be featured here at Tweetspeak. Some will be retweeted and Facebooked. Others, if they are a fit, will become part of our 2015 National Poetry Month Project e-book called Casual: A Little Book of Jeans Poems & Pictures.
Sharing your poems and photographs here with us is your way of saying you’d like to be featured or published in the e-book. Please only share the poems and photographs you’d be interested in having featured or published, as we will not be engaging in further permissions requests than this note. Just drop your poem or a link to your photograph in the comment box below. We can’t wait to see your creativity!
Once we release Casual, we’ll send it for free to all current Tweetspeak supporters at the $15 to $100+ levels. For our general readers, it will be made available for free download during National Poetry Month 2016.
If you’re interested in supporting all the poetry for life you find here day after day, you can “just say thanks” now for everything you love and want to bring to more people in the world:
One August, my grandmother wears blue jeans
and thumbs a ride from the Caney Mountain foothills
fifty miles north to the crest of Cedar Gap
and the snaking Frisco line.
On as much steam as her own,
the locomotive crawls into old Las Vegas,
where she baptizes her legs
in the El Rancho swimming pool
just long enough to be snatched up
by a flashy suit.
By sundown, she wears the new life
of a showgirl who never returns home.
Gambler’s dotted die latches at temple and wrist.
The only black and white she’s known before—
local newsprint yielding stories
of falling hog prices,
bumper crops of peaches.
—Dave Malone, from O: Love Poems from the Ozarks
Photo by Rajiv Ashrafi, Creative Commons, via Flickr.