On Sunday, I was invited to compose a poem.
Somehow, ThePoetsCall has been flying beneath my radar for over a month, despite being a) exactly the kind of charming, experimental account I keep an eye out for and b) an answer to my adolescent fantasy of finally, finally being asked to write a poem (I had normal adolescent fantasies, too, but a good half of them were basically the “I studied the blade” meme, fleshed out in embarrassing detail. Being called upon to perform my craft, etc).
Their Game (a la Carse) seems to be: keep an eye out for people who might enjoy the invitation, send them a DM, collect poems. Post a few (or just one) a day, with attribution. It’s simple and playful—Twitter at its best.
The responses range from self-conscious, to whimsical, to shockingly evocative. ThePoetsCall, as far as I can tell, accepts all or nearly-all entries without discrimination (I haven’t asked, and can’t say for sure). It’s just…nice.
The self-conscious entries resonate. I spent an hour after receiving the invitation poring through my old poetry, trying to reconnect with whatever it was that let me write things like this:
I think I found it again, after I (mostly) shook off the pressure to “get it right” and found my way back to whatever it was I had access to over a decade ago. I’m not going to post my answer to the Call, yet; I’ll wait until my turn in the game has been completed on their side. But I do want to draw attention to what they’re doing, because it’s better than what most people are doing online. They are, IMO, criminally under-followed, so if it sounds like your thing, check them out.
[update 7/30/2020: the poem has been posted! My turn is complete.]
