iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Reposted by Karen Elizabeth Bishop

Sara Eliza Johnson @saraelizaj.bsky.social · 08/10/2026

rereading this book and have gasped several times now

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 06/10/2026

Dan Beachy-Quick is just the best. 🌿

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Amsterdam Review @amsterdamreview.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

"we come forth and sometimes singing. but no one / cares after the song or what promise, this thing / called faith. the revelation is always home-grown" 3 poems by @kebishop.bsky.social in Amsterdam Review www.amsterdamreview.org/three-by-karen-elizabeth-bishop.html #poetry #poetrycommunity

alight
i thought we were trees,
shrieking, dense, millenial. but no, we were hands,

we were ocean hands, blind,
fleeing, ignorant. unknowing we swept seawater into

speech, cleaving, the fugitive
madness settles, grief a feathered mouth, a mother

that stays, when we face
pain she says, alight, child, alight, we are torn, born

wanting. hollow as moon &
sometimes the fragment is a continent that floats

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Tobias Wilson-Bates @phdhurtbrain.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

My whole career the Humanities seem to have been curled up in a defensive crouch trying to justify our meaning/existence. At times it has even seemed a productive thought exercise, but I think generally whatever body has demanded the justification is not really open to being persuaded of anything.

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John Glenday @johnglenday.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

Just occasionally, you come across a new poem from a young poet that reassures you all is well with the future of poetry. Dean Browne, from his debut Picador collection ‘After Party’

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 05/09/2026

This beautiful, unexpected news ❤️

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

Love, cast all thought aside. I cast aside all thought. Wendell Berry

A POEM OF THANKS

I have been spared another day
to come into this night
as though there is a mercy in things
mindful of me. Love, cast all
thought aside. I cast aside
all thought. Our bodies enter
their brief precedence,
surrounded by their sleep.
Through you I rise, and you
through me, into the joy
we make, but may not keep.

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Liberty Hardy @libertyhardy.bsky.social · 26/08/2026

My heart. 💔

Tim Curry in the 1970s, dressed as William Shakespeare.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 25/08/2026

So grateful to @amsterdamreview.bsky.social for the nod and for honoring Raúl Zurita's always extraordinary work and Héctor Hernández Montecinos' exquisite curation ❤

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 20/07/2026

So pleased that this translation found its home in the @amsterdamreview.bsky.social. A joy to work with such enthusiastic editors and to see Zurita's prose go far & wide

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Thad DeVassie @thaddevassie.bsky.social · 05/07/2026

A favorite from Beth Ann Fennelly for #smallpoemsunday cc: @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 24/06/2026

Nobody speaks on the page like Zurita. Many thanks to Amsterdam Review for so generously hosting these words.

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David Atkinson @davidatkinsonpoet.bsky.social · 18/06/2026

Today I was proud to take part in a panel discussion sharing my story about being the parent of a trans child I love this poem by Jay Hulme. It is about grace & belonging It's about the possibility of being loved exactly as you are & accepting this truth. #poetry #poemoftheday #Pride #LoveIsLove

Poem - 'Jesus at the Gay Bar' by Jay Hulme

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Detroit Breakdown @detroitbreakdown.bsky.social · 13/06/2026

Nothing says “dying civilization” like gladiator fights at the capitol for the emperor’s amusement.

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 09/06/2026

Poems should evidence some degree of control, but poets should be a little volatile. The poem is a high-risk investment, a long-term commitment. Like a big dirty city, it should make you feel a little uncomfortable. Susan Briante, @noemipress.bsky.social

When the Buddha touched his finger to ground at the moment of enlightenment, all the leaves fell from the Bodhi tree. It is February IO, 10:04 in the morning, the Dow falls to 12194. The present poetic strives toward total awareness, incessant recording.
Ravenous as a black walnut tree, roots sucking at the sewer line, the Dow touches everything: the taste of our water, color of our sky, torque of our engines. It is February IO, 1O:15 in the morning, the Dow at 12203 is rising. The poet-like the trash tree-uses all of it.
A poem moves as does the Dow influenced by a variety of factors and events: mergers, oil spills, revolutions, suffering. Sometimes what does not move tells the story. I like poems that go to prisons and coal mining towns. I like poems that act as archive or a view to Elizabeth Street. I admire circuitry and cosmology. I write with a power industry dictionary on the bookshelf behind my desk, a copy of the King James, a guide to Texas trees.
Poems should evidence some degree of control, but poets should be a little volatile. The poem is a high-risk investment, a long-term commitment. Like a big dirty city, it should make you feel
a little uncomfortable.
It is February 10, I:II in the afternoon, the Dow falls to 12197. The poet wants to remind the Dow that the bird has something to teach it about falling and song.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 18/05/2026

Happy birthday, dear Han! Please write all the bird poems!! 🌱❤️

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AAUP @aaup.org · 13/05/2026

"We can & must fight for public investment that allows us to serve all students, across the broadest spectrum of academic fields, with a renewed commitment to true academic freedom & secure employment for those who further this mission & serve our students." —Rebecca Givan, @ruaaup-aft.bsky.social

chronicle.com

Opinion | How Bad Is Higher Ed’s Budget Crunch?

Eleven experts unpack a crisis we all knew was coming.

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SarahJSloat @sjane.bsky.social · 09/05/2026

A garden of the flowers that appear in Swann's Way for #WorldCollageDay.

the flower names that appear in Swann's Way typed onto colored paper and collaged on the inner cover of a hardback book.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 09/05/2026

Yes, I heard it over coffee this morning! Was so happy to hear you on! Poetry in the morning!

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 26/04/2026

My writing advice is deadhead your roses so the abundance will continue ✨

Yellow and pink peace rose in bloom with buds around it

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 13/04/2026

A project I've been working on a while: "Funeral Rites," by Chilean poet Raúl Zurita, in English translation. Many thanks to Héctor Hernández Montecinos; to the fantastic editors of #AmsterdamReview; and to Zurita for trusting his voice in my hands. www.amsterdamreview.org/funeral-rite...

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 23/03/2026

to be loved to the end / without ruth or recrimination C.D. Wright

AGAINST THE ENCROACHING GRAYS

I held up the femur
of a grasshopper

some blue air fell over me
what I want is less clear to me
now than it was then

to be loved to the end
without ruth or recrimination
to forgive myself as others

have forgiven me
to enjoy the birds
with little bones

at the farmers' market
I still see his truck
from time to time

notices on utility poles
for a lost dog answering
to Scout sometimes I sit

in a café pretending
to read but knowing

I want to be the one
to find Scout
instead

I do what I have done
I wake up and join
the struggle

of the trees
to find a way
through and then

a dark clot
of poetry breaks off

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 19/03/2026

mothers of saffron, fathers / of insurrection

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 15/03/2026

happy #smallpoemsunday! 💜 feel free to share small poems you love by other poets, or ones you wrote :) this week I got my first physical copy of my new book MOUNTEBANK, so for the next couple Sundays l’ll be sharing small poems from it — starting with this one 🐑

POEM

The ewe rejects her lamb
& so anticipates
All philosophy

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 13/03/2026

Closing this run of Louise Glück poems with a personal favourite

REUNION

When Odysseus has returned at last
unrecognizable to Ithaca and killed
the suitors swarming the throne room,
very delicately he signals to Telemachus
to depart: as he stood twenty years ago,
he stands now before Penelope.
On the palace floor, wide bands of sunlight turning
from gold to red. He tells her
nothing of those years, choosing to speak instead
exclusively of small things, as would be
the habit of a man and woman long together:
once she sees who he is, she will know what he's done.
And as he speaks, ah,
tenderly he touches her forearm.

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Stephen McGann @stephenmcgann.uk · 11/03/2026

I still think about this a lot.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 24/02/2026

february, still. from *the deering hour* (Ornithopter).

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 16/02/2026

Richard Siken, born on this day in 1967

5: Then

Gently, gently, with a voluntary kindness, the hand does the work because the world needs to be touched. There is a button, and there
is a shoulder, and there is a darkness, and there is something on
the other side. Darkness like a shadow thrown across a field, pulled with one hand and thrown with the other, boats in the river, birds
in flight. The birds, dark birds, they fly from his hand to land... elsewhere. So many darknesses thrown into the future. Someone
else's problem. The garden is covered in snow. Dark coats falling out of the sky.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 15/02/2026

Shut down Dilley. Stop the opening of the Social Circle, GA detention center. Boycott GlobalX Airlines' deportation flights out of Miami, FL.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 11/02/2026

from The Lincoln Review, no. 6 www.lincolnreview.org

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Association for Scottish Literature @asls.org.uk · 16/01/2026

At the raw end of winter the mountain is half snow, half dun grass. Only when snow moves does it become a hare… —Anna Crowe, “A Calendar of Hares” published in A SECRET HISTORY OF RHUBARB (Mariscat, 2004) #poem #poetry annacrowepoet.com/2021/04/21/a...

A Calendar of Hares
Anna Crowe

for Valerie Gillies

1. At the raw end of winter
the mountain is half snow, half
dun grass. Only when snow
moves does it become a hare.

2. If you can catch a hare
and look into its eye,
you will see the whole world.

3. That day in March
watching two hares boxing
at the field’s edge, she felt
the child quicken.

4. It is certain Midas never saw a hare
or he would not have lusted after gold.

5. When the buzzard wheels
like a slow kite overhead
the hare pays out the string.

6. The man who tells you
he has thought of everything
has forgotten the hare.

7. The hare’s form, warm yet empty.
Stumbling upon it, he felt his heart
lurch and race beneath his ribs.

8. Beset by fears, she became
the hare who hears
the mowers’ voices growing louder.

9. Light as the moon’s path over the sea,
the run of the hare over the land.

10. The birchwood a dapple
of fallen gold: a carved hare
lies in a Pictish hoard.

11. Waking to the cry of a hare
she ran and found the child sleeping.

12. November stiffens
into December: hare and grass
have grown a thick coat of frost.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 08/01/2026

Renee Nicole Good (Macklin). 2020 Academy of American Poets Prize, Old Dominion University, "On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs." make room for wonder poets.org/2020-on-lear...

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 12/12/2025

Congrats, Mary!! Can't wait to see this out! ❤️

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 10/12/2025

Oh thank god, I've been waiting for this.

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 01/12/2025

[and love], a new poem in translation by the inimitable late Argentine poet Susana Thénon. From collection of selected works in progress, Many Suns. Many thanks to Robin Myers for curating and eds at Poetry Northwest for hosting. www.poetrynw.org/poetry/and-l...

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 19/11/2025

Academic friends, students, friends of friends: a fantastic opportunity to join us at Rutgers next year for a seminar on TRANSLATION at our beloved Center for Cultural Analysis. The fabulous Jeff Lawrence & Preetha Mani will lead. You couldn't be in better hands. Post-doc applications now LIVE!

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Susan L. Leary @susanlleary.bsky.social · 16/11/2025

More from Eve Luckring ♥️ from SIGNAL TO NOISE (Ornithopter Press) Happy #smallpoemsunday! @thetenderbetween.bsky.social @ornithopterpress.bsky.social @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

ECHOED

: familiar but unrecognizable

: this "b" for that "v" sound

: whenever they blame the victim

: each room swarming with ants...

: how I let her down; I let her down; let her down

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leti @letitia.bsky.social · 09/11/2025

“No sibling, no mother. Her / paws were dry magic beads. I touched them.” bewitched by this poem. Feral, @jessicacuello.bsky.social

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Karen Elizabeth Bishop @kebishop.bsky.social · 03/11/2025

Oh gosh, thank you so much, and for reading!! 🌱

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