I indulge myself in remembering where Tweetspeak began
It’s difficult for me to imagine that I’ve had a Facebook account for at least 17 years, but a Facebook memory popped up this week to prove it. It caught my attention because of the title: “Who Were You in My Dream?”
I thought, why does that sound like a poem?
Probably because it was. But not just any poem.
One Saturday afternoon in the summer of 2009, back when Twitter was called Twitter, three people were having a Twitter conversation – L.L. Barkat, Jim Woods, and myself. Somehow, the subject turned to poetry (well. L.L. Barkat was involved, so that was probably inevitable), and we began tweeting poetic lines at each other. And an idea was born. What about doing a poetry jam on Twitter?
Barkat planned and organized it, named the jam a “twoem,” and on Sept. 9, 2009, the jam happened. Barkat provided the prompts; the theme was “tabloid news,” using lines from John Leax’s poetry collection of the same name. Eight of us participated. Barkat prompted, and we all responded to the prompts and each other for an hour. Eight people can produce a lot of lines in an hour. Barkat created a Twitter account for the jam: @tspoetry.
The question became, what should we do with this? Barkat extracted the full tweet transcript and sent it to me, and I began to assemble the tweets into some coherent whole. The result read like a story, or perhaps a stage play, complete with asides to the audience. We had no online site to publish them, so I published them all in one post on my blog. I gave it the title of “A Tabloidian Twepic.”
A few of the participants posted their own lines as poems on their blogs; L.L. Barkat herself had one entitled “I Was the Flame.” A week after the poetry jam, I did the same with my own contribution and posted a link on Facebook. That became the memory I would spot 17 years later.
Who Were You in My Dream?
Image by Melpo Tsiliaki via Unsplash.
I was the lateness in the night
That passed through the pane
Of glass.
I was the wind
That teased the candle flame.
I was the drop of wax
Aside the candle,
On the golden fork,
The gold reflecting shards
Of a shattered window.
I was the memory lying
Behind the departed,
Beyond the cluttered table,
To remain still,
Quiet in slumber,
Unworried by morning
Crossing my brow
Or furrowing my mind.
I was the black hole
Filled by grace,
Rimmed in pastel
Colored
With crimson morning.
I was the morning
Pushing past the curtain,
Mourning the night
By shouting the day,
The sun that awoke my heart
To the new day.
I was the wholeness
That became the holy,
As walls of dreams
Surrounded the clocks.
I published a few more of the results of Twitter poetry jams on my blog, but we all recognized the need for an “official” place. Thus, was born Tweetspeak Poetry.
Much has changed in those 17 years. Twitter became X. Social media evolved into a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde phenomenon. Three years ago, I was booted off Twitter (or X?) for reasons unknown, likely because I did dangerous things like post a lot of links to poetry. (I have a different account now to access X when I need to, but I don’t use it for much.) Tweetspeak Poetry has so many connections and affiliations that only Barkat can keep track of them all.
But remembering that poetry jam, the poems that resulted, and the excitement and the fun we had, I’m reminded of the spirit of and the event itself that gave birth to this publication.
And I’m grateful for it.
Photo by Malis Borger, Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Glynn Young.
How to Read a Poem uses images like the mouse, the hive, the switch (from the Billy Collins poem)—to guide readers into new ways of understanding poems. Anthology included.
“I require all our incoming poetry students—in the MFA I direct—to buy and read this book.”
—Jeanetta Calhoun Mish
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L.L. Barkat says
Fun memories!
I’m pretty sure that the very first poetry party was around the single line “Who were you in my dream?” which came from Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge’s book ‘poemcrazy.’
But now, it’s all in the stream of memory. And isn’t it fascinating how we remember differently?
In any case, we were born of a poetry party. Couldn’t ask for any better beginning. 🙂
Glynn says
I should write a poem about memory, as in, my own. I followed the posts I made in September of 2009, and that one may have come before “Tabloid News.”