Well, friends and fam - I won! 🤩
I am so grateful to @triohousepress and to @januaryoneil, who chose my manuscript out of so many awesome finalists!
J.D. Isip retweeted
ONE ART’s 2026 Best Spiritual Literature Nominations
Congratulations to our nominees!
Kathy Nelson
Connie Soper
Joy Gaines-Friedler
Laura Grace Weldon
Renee Emerson
Kathryn Jordan
oneartpoetry.com/2026/10/19/…
Get your manuscripts ready, friends!! 💛💜💛💜
Our Trio Award for a First or Second Book in Poetry and our Louise Bogan Award open for submissions on November 1 — and we are so pleased to announce this year’s judges, Major Jackson and Cindy Juyoung Ok! Read more about them: triohousepress.substack.com/…
J.D. Isip retweeted
I wish people would send more poems. Maybe they’ll all come in a rush at the end of the month, but the the number of submissions this time compared to last has me worried. Does everyone hate us now? What did we do? Send us some poems, please!
pfpoi.blogspot.com/p/submiss…
J.D. Isip retweeted
If anyone wants to hear some Halloween season poems, I’ve curated a special reading list for Thursday with Julie and friends at @SoFloPoJo. Join us, and maybe read your own spooky poem during open mic!
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Send us your poems! We're open for submissions for another two weeks.
J.D. Isip retweeted
Just a reminder to submit your eco-poetry manuscript to the inaugural Scott King Award in Eco-Poetry! Deadline is November 7! 💜💛💜💛
Read about it here: triohousepress.substack.com/…
Submit here:
triohousepress.org/submissio…
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“Music had to be melancholy or not at all.” A poem by Mary Oliver.

ALT A Bitterness I believe you did not have a happy life. I believe you were cheated. I believe your best friends were loneliness and misery. I believe your busiest enemies were anger and depression. I believe joy was a game you could never play without stumbling. I believe comfort, though you craved it, was forever a stranger. I believe music had to be melancholy or not at all. I believe no trinket, no precious metal, shone so bright as your bitterness. I believe you lay down at last in your coffin none the wiser and unassuaged. Oh, cold and dreamless under the wild, amoral, reckless, peaceful flowers of the hillsides.



































