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.

1.

A bee buzzes down the sunray her tiny wings, beating a rainbow #5lines #micropoetry

— Susie (@SusieAreYouOK) April 22, 2015

2.

a wet wind tears at my hair . . leaving you for another storm just like my father #tanka #5lines #tpos — Sandi Pray (@bigmax722) April 13, 2015

3.

roadside seedlings hitch a ride up their dried-out parents #haiku

— Maggie Kennedy (@TwaikuJoy) April 16, 2015

4.

scattered leaves– the trees spread history #haiku

— Rob Cairns (@robbiepoet) April 16, 2015

5.

Am I a coward? Wild wet green leaves in lightning! Midnight has no words. #micropoetry #haiku

— Amy Billone (@AmyBillone) April 20, 2015

6.

There must be a dusty office where they sit the words that went astray with the lost loves &broken hearts waiting to be claimed #fieryverse

— Jane Dougherty (@MJDougherty33) April 20, 2015

7.

#haiku #senryu #micropoetry #rp I blow out the candle so the night can find me

— Coyote (@CoyoteSings) April 16, 2015

8.

night settles in shaking its feathers and preening the stars

— Kathleen (@everettpoetry) April 21, 2015

9.

raindrops kneeling as they land #raindrops #kneeling #mpy #vss #5words #micropoetry #writing #poem

— David Starzynski (@sfourstarz) April 19, 2015

10.

#tanka #NaPoWriMo April 16 a crayon called “the moon bleeds silver” keeps me awake trying to write the face of a new born child

— carole johnston (@morganabag) April 16, 2015

Photo by Tobi Firestone,  Creative Commons license via Flickr

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Will 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. My first novel is Adjustments.

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