Tag Archives: Twitter

So, this really is goodbye…

1 Sep

Hello – yes, I know I said I’d stop blogging, but I can’t. I might be addicted to the internet. However I do need to cut own the time I am spending on all my different platforms and applications so while this blog will always remain here (sometime we can visit it together and feel nostalgic for the old days) really I will be updating on alumpinthethroat.tumblr.com .

The reason I’m moving to Tumblr. is mainly it’s brevity, which like poetry form, actually gives you more creativity, and I feel I can be a bit more experimental with updates than I am in the traditional blog format.

Also, in other news. I am tweeting the whole of my first pamphlet of poetry This is a Poem under the hashtag #tiap at the moment. If it goes well I will also tweet A Violation of Expectation. I more than welcome virtual interaction, so do come and play…


A chorus of poetry loveres tweeted this poem

17 Dec

As my regular readers will know I was the Tweeter in residence for the latest TraVerses evening at the Traverse Theater, which took place on Monday.  Yet again TraVerses proved itself to be a vibrant night with an eclectic mixture of acts, and there is a real feeling of the vitality that is created when people collaborate across art forms, and the audience of perhaps 50 or 60 proves that there is an interest and that poetry is very much alive in Edinburgh.

I was tweeting what was happening on stage live all night, and also creating a Twitter poem.  For the Twitter poem the audience on the night were given paper and pens, so they could add their own tweets to the poem, while others, who were not able to make it tweeted in lines.  I am afraid that I didn’t get everyone’s name, so can’t thank you all personally here, but you do have my thanks for taking part.  The first line, was taken from the first line of the first poem by  Trio Verso‘s who were the first performers.

TraVerses Twitter Poem

The wind holds you up

only as long as you can stand it.


Iorn.  Gold.  Felt.  Fat.  Breeze.  Frost.  Chill.  Ice


Running against the standing force,

but the wall will hold you so long as it stands.


Emily melting those things again,

useless lumps that bubble blue

and red, eventually becoming not very useful,

but a full poet is pretty validity.


Storm Chaser,

perusing air whipped like ice cream,

thinking wind will keep you warm

while my arms hang cold,

my kiss to vanilla.


Even the wind gets a better offer

and secretly withdraws

its sexual grip and loving attention

to your bones, everything ends.  Ever.