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corinnaboard.bsky.social
Corinna Board
@corinnaboard.bsky.social
1.9K followers 1.3K following 720 posts
EAL teacher. Tree lover. Likes to write poems. She/her.
https://linktr.ee/parole_de_reveuse
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corinnaboard.bsky.social
‘Swan and Shadow’ John Hollander (Poetry Foundation). 🦢 #poetry
Concrete poem in the form of a swan and its reflection. Swan and Shadow BY JOHN HOLLANDER (December 1966).
August 1, 2025 at 7:25 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Abigail Chabitnoy 🔥
Poem text reads: IF YOU'RE GOING TO LOOK LIKE A WOLF THEY HAVE TO LOVE YOU MORE THAN THEY FEAR YOU The first deer had large teeth and no horns and were not afraid. The first deer did not have enough fear for the men who needed them to survive. A woman decided to let the men eat. grandmother decided her deer shall have horns and be afraid someone's mother decided the men shall eat and shall be feared. A man thought wolves should be used to cull the herd. And we who had been catching water dripping through stone in the homes we dug out of the earth we licked our long teeth clean and set to work. Abigail Chabitnoy
June 12, 2025 at 12:37 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
The joy in this poem by Hannah Emerson is contagious:
#poetry
Poem text reads: KEEP YOURSELF AT THE BEGINNING OF THE BEGINNING Please try to help me go to the joy that is trying to go to the beautiful helpful helpful beginning of the beginning of the very trying freedom that we make our great great great light that is nothing but the laughter that is fooling us into believing that we go to the trash bin that is your life that become the treasures that live in the bottom of the bin that is your life yes yes yes yes - please try to dive down to the beautiful muck that helps you get that the world was made from the garbage at the bottom of the universe that was boiling over with joy that wanted to become you you you yes yes yes - please try to go to the colors that kiss you great great great person of the light that is becoming you you you yes yes - please try to keep yourself in the bottom of the bin yes yes - please try to go to the kissing muck that is very true to your life yes yes - please try to meet me there yes yes - please try to bring your beautiful nothing there yes yes Hannah Emerson The poem has a concrete form like mountains running sideways down the page or an open beak.
June 3, 2025 at 6:29 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
So much love for this poem by AV Bridgwood which came 2nd in The Rialto Nature and Place Competition 2024 and appears in Rialto 102. @rialtopoetry.bsky.social 💚
EXTINCTION SUBMISSION problems for moths include astroturf and overlighting if moths got problems so do bats so do cuckoos the unswooped lanes the silent trees their body clocks all fucked i am helpfully informed by the special nature issue of the in-flight magazine. it is time to quit being self-centred and reproduce i am helpfully informed by Brett in 2F i swallow the morning after pill in the loo's steel anchorhold my contribution to declining millennial birthrates i will sleep when i get there three flights in three days dear god should i change my Shein joggers. belly pains. airport garden in a pod art gallery in a pod vast paintings of grids swarmed over by dots with no respect for lines like life at its cellular level like germs says the leaflet it is about anthropocentrism about the things we cannot see. i dream on the plane of the earth after the last child and the moths to so many different mothkinds so many little mouthsounds the tick of corrugated membranes in the hindwings chattering through all the empty Starbucks so many and nameless this time after names. when i get there it is dark at 3pm i think my phone is unsynced i google time now here. it is 3pm. there is a smog over the lake from the burning trash. we have switched off the sun. the rooster cries dawn once an hour. you me both buddy the clocks in us hushed by planedrone by mallglow. small me once gutted a beloved beanie baby rooster spilling polystyrene we found the beads for years in the weave a heart plastic-tagged to its crest with a poem inside about birds and a warning about children choking. i am spotting weirdly my knickers look like the antianthropocentrism exhibition. i am trying to dream again go back to that crescendo of ultrasonic whispering over the razed ground but the rooster cries all day-night like a baby. Siri what time is it here now AV Bridgwood
May 24, 2025 at 7:13 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Also reading Fiona Benson’s new collection which is, as expected. phenomenal!
Midden Witch by Fiona Benson - ebook version on my tablet. Poem text by Fiona Benson reads: Lark Ascending Up here, the sky is drilled with vanishing holes - the disappearing routes of larks diminishing to specks, and late-spring light is riddled with the thrill of their long song, their desperate incantation. See how this near lark draws you off, lays bare its little piece of flesh, decoy in the sky's mouth - I am take-meat I am morsel - Watch where it sinks, silent and inconspicuous in meadow grass, and you betray the song's bright clamour, its seduction of your gaze up and away from offspring nested soft and subtle in the verdure. It falls to rise again, as all our prayers feint and rise and batter, panicked at the door of whatever wrung-out mother we dream enskied, and beg to ward off harm from children who, despite our subterfuge and voodoo, will one day nonetheless be drawn to their father's house, will fly undefended in the temples of the air - each tiny, tremulous force with a vast inheritance of voice, and strident, coloratura cry; I am take-meat I am morsel - don't look there look here -
May 5, 2025 at 7:55 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
May reading pile, with a poem from each pamphlet, all highly recommended! 💚 🇵🇸 🌲
#poetry #poetsonbluesky
@jlmmorton.bsky.social
@outspokenpress.bsky.social
@poetrybusiness.bsky.social
Three poetry pamphlets on a wicker table. Fossil Record by Wayne Price, The Age of Olive Trees by Haia Mohammed, and Forest by JLM Morton. Poem text by Wayne Price reads: Fossil Record I’m Wind was stammering at the windows all night. If I slept at all it was a half-sleep filled with thoughts that halved into dreams and back again. The first cells divided identically, for millions of years. Millions of years before difference began. Slow learning life. Slower than stone. I would like a sleep as deep as those first fractal animals, colourless, rooted in the dark of empty oceans, carbon-paper thin. Everything in the wind says give me time, I can change: minerals in the rocks and streams; proteins in warm seas; memories; children who will remind us they never asked to be born. Poem text by Haia Mohammed reads: I AM GAZA, I AM HAIA Daughter of a land that cannot be defeated a voice of a sky that never betrays I'm the blood that flows through its streets the pulse beneath the rubble that never ceases every day my eyes witness death but my heart knows only life I carry on my shoulders the pain of a nation and on my lips the voice of defiance I'm the story the world cannot forget the sword that will not break the soul to the world I will not ask you to save me I will not seek your pity In the face of my strength you will feel powerless I am Haia - daughter of Gaza my voice is louder than any bomb my spirit deeper than any wound. Poem text by JLM Morton reads: FOREST I In the beginning was the sun which begat wind which begat rain which begat seed which begat sapling which begat black pine plunged through the first layer of rot, musk mould, moist treasure on the brown saddle of the escarpment, tasting the pure potential of limestone, water.
May 5, 2025 at 7:51 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
For Earth Day, a little bird poem originally published by Carmen et Error (@thebraag.bsky.social) 💚 🌍 (photo RSPB)
#poetry #Earthday
A dunnock's prayer by Corinna Board O wingless wun, god o' smal bridds, spære my nest, my fif blue eggs. Bright sky-keeper, bringer o' frost, maker o' hip an haw, can ye hear my tseep tseep tseep in the heeg? I sing for ye in the blackthorn an the dogrose, in the hazel an the rowan. I, this tyne spearwa so smæl in yur hand. Written using a mixture of old English, modern English, and phonic variations of modern English. Photo of a dunnock in the hedgerow.
April 22, 2025 at 4:50 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Spot the skylark! (Shame the wind ruins the sound a bit.)
#nature
April 14, 2025 at 5:06 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Feeling very lucky to live in such a beautiful place! #oxfordshire #thecotswolds
White blackthorn blossoms in the hedgerow Two white swans, one in the lake, one resting on the grassy bank. Fields and trees in the background. The lake like a mirror reflecting back trees and blue sky. Sheep and young lambs, probably a week old, in the field.
April 12, 2025 at 11:02 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Enjoying some beautiful poetry by @sophiaargyris.bsky.social in my mum’s garden. ❤️ #poetry
Heronless by Sophia Argyris. Cover shows a colour photo of a heron perched by a river. Poem text reads: Fox Names The World Fox calls the night solace, calls the stars home-light calls the clouds her fickle friends. Fox calls hedges hatchways. Her claws chatter like teeth on roads, she calls concrete strange stone hears her own steps on its grey skin, pauses scents the air again. Fox knows some places are too dead to hunt in nothing warm blooded can live where strange stone rises too tall leans too close, but she can slip between the jaws of these mountains, find little bits of life. Fox calls rat hope or taste or joy-fur. Sometimes she finds other things to eat left lying wrapped in shuffle-mouth stuff that must be shaken off. Fox moves in silence calls the dark her own, haunts the dimming sky with her voice to say so. Fox calls the world fierce gladsome mine known.
April 5, 2025 at 10:14 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Found a rook egg on the ground below and managed to not get pooped on!
A rook egg shell held between my thumb and finger.
April 4, 2025 at 5:27 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
The rookery is getting busy. 🪺
April 4, 2025 at 5:27 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Gorgeous poetry collaboration in the form of a plantable pamphlet. 🌱💚 @dialectwriters.bsky.social
#poetry
A plantable poetry pamphlet ‘Hertz’ by Hannah Copley and Alycia Pirmohamed, placed in the soil of an empty stone planter with a stone bird.
April 4, 2025 at 5:21 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
My #lifttothesky is for @karanchambers.bsky.social and her superb pamphlet ‘woman | folk’ - grab yourself a copy from @salopress.bsky.social, it is packed with powerful & raw poems about womanhood like this one:
woman | folk by Karan Chambers. Poem text reads: the fisher queen i didn't know the right question to ask & so he fished. every day. he contemplated the water, tracking currents & ghosts. out in his stupid little boat while the land withered around us. i sowed & tilled & coaxed the soil, desperate as my efforts bore no growth. i walked the kitchen gardens, knelt in dust & turned its ashy grey, hoping to find dark loam if i just dug deep enough. each time i pulled my fingers dry & grieving from the earth, the dirt fell away like soot. & when i took my basket to the fields for harvest, corn ears drooped before me & i couldn't bring myself to uproot their shrivelled forms. still he fished. when i took my daughter to the woods to forage, hunting berries & seeds like starving birds, we brought home scraps to make a soup that made our bellies twist & gripe. & still he fished. when the grass crisped under the scorching sun, turning sickly ochre before the wildfires raged. he fished. when the bloody flux came, turning our insides out & killing our old folk in its spite. he fished. when our milk dried up & our babes perished at our breasts, wails becoming whimpers before silence. he fished. when my daughter sickened, turning white & pallid, & i begged him on my knees - he left as usual, peeling my fingers from his ankles, rod slung over one shoulder. i held her hand as she wasted with the land around us, folded hands to shoulders, placed the coins & wound the cloth, as i had done for four small forms before her. only then did i walk down to the shore & let the water close over my head.
March 31, 2025 at 6:46 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Close up of a wood anemone on the forest floor. A clump of wild primroses on the forest floor. Yellow lichen covering the thin twigs of a tree. Pinky-red catkins.
March 22, 2025 at 5:00 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Today’s walk:
#moss #nature #lichen
Woodland with primroses, wood anemones, ivy covered trees. A piece of moss-covered wood with wood anemones growing next to it. A wild violet on the forest floor. Moss growing on branches.
March 22, 2025 at 5:00 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
March reading pile ❤️
@thebraag.bsky.social @karanchambers.bsky.social @salopress.bsky.social @faberbooks.bsky.social
4 poetry books on a wicker table: Offworld by Kirsten Luckins, Every House Needs a Ghost by Timothy Fox, woman|folk by Karan Chambers, and That Broke into Shining Crystals by Richard Scott.
March 8, 2025 at 1:59 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
The brook and meadow.
March 8, 2025 at 1:52 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Spring walk. Muddy paths, blue sky, first primroses and tree hugging! 💚
#nature
Muddy bridge path over the brook into the meadow. Trees over the brook with grass and blue sky. First yellow primroses Hugging a tree on my walk. I am wearing black honeybee wellies, a dark blue jumper, black leggings and sunglasses and my brown hair is tied in a ponytail. In the background - grass, hedgerow, wooden fence and gate into the next field.
March 8, 2025 at 1:48 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Was late for work as I stopped to listen to these redwings chattering… 😆 (Also: look at that blue sky!) #nature
March 4, 2025 at 8:26 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Evening walk with sunset, birdsong and sheep. 💚
February 28, 2025 at 6:25 PM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
Thanks so much Clare Shaw @clareshawpoet.bsky.social and Anna Chilvers for the glorious workshop last night. I loved spending time thinking about bog bodies, moss and very small creatures. Here’s a couple of moss pics from my camera roll to celebrate! 💚
Bright green moss on a drystone wall with sporophytes and capsules growing upwards. Clusters of green moss on a lichen covered stone.
February 22, 2025 at 8:42 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
February 21, 2025 at 9:03 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
My favourite rook/jackdaw community at dusk:
#nature #corvids
Winter trees at dusk with noisy rook and jackdaw residents. Canopy of a rookery at dusk.
February 21, 2025 at 9:03 AM
corinnaboard.bsky.social
What’s that yellow thing in the sky?? // Lichen sun.
The bridleway, grass verge, hedgerow, drystone walls and a low February sun in a light blue sky dappled with white clouds. Bright yellow lichen on a drystone wall = lichen sun.
February 17, 2025 at 3:02 PM