Poetry Doesn’t Have to Be a Solitary Slog: Find Your People

Let me cut through the myth of the tortured poet alone in a dark room scribbling broken dreams. Truth is, the best work, so far as I know, comes from connection, from a group of artists that are as hungry for authenticity as you are. It’s a truism that writing is personal, but it doesn’t have to be lonely. Whether you’re a seasoned wordsmith or just starting out, joining a community isn’t about feeding your ego. It’s about feeding your art. And trust me, when you find your people, you set your words on fire.

During Lockdown Three, the isolation forced me to dig deep for connection. I teamed up with poets I knew and had worked with previously: David Walshe, Mary Earnshaw, and co-founder of The Broken Spine, Paul Robert Mullen, and we founded The Southport Poets Alliance. We weren’t looking for empty validation, we wanted honest feedback from fellow warriors. The result? Belisama emerged from that crucible, with our work winning a competition at Dreich. To us, that win wasn’t a shock; we were confident in what we were doing. That win was proof that raw, shared experience hones your voice into something undeniable.

After Belisama proved the magic of colliding creative forces, I needed to shake off the solo hustle again in 2023/24. So I started The Whiskey Tree, an experiment in poetic democracy. Fourteen poets, shared responsibility, and no one shouldering the entire weight of promotion alone. The idea was simple: if we all riffed together, our project would resonate louder. And it did, the project grew exponentially, spawning two waves (a third in the pipeline), five published books, with five more on the horizon. Now I’m no longer an active poet in that movement, I guide the process, but the fire was lit by a mutual respect for the grind. Working together mattered!

There’s something electrifying happening online too. Take Bluesky, for example, the hashtag #PoemsAbout has exploded over the last six weeks. Last Friday, over eighty poets took to Bluesky, sharing their work and engaging in real, raw dialogue. It wasn’t just another social media trend; it was a modern campfire gathering a diverse crew of writers, each pouring their truth into this safe, collective space. This isn’t just community, it’s a literary revolution happening every Friday. If you haven’t dipped your toe into this digital melee of creativity, now’s the time. The beauty of it is that every comment, every poem shared, pulls you further away from the dark isolation of writing alone.

I suppose the point I’m making is that if you’re serious about your craft, don’t just lurk on the sidelines. Step into the messy, electrifying world of live workshops. Consider joining forces with Matt Smith at Black Bough Poetry, whose events aren’t just a series of lectures but instruction over how to plan a year in poetry. Or, if you’re itching for a change of pace, get in on Paul Short‘s writing group, Paul is an emerging force in the indie poetry scene. These aren’t just groups; they’re lifelines for anyone who craves depth in their verse and a community that challenges and uplifts without compromise. Of course, we run our own workshops and open mics which aren’t designed to shape your writing year, they are about how you improve your craft, poem by poem, and give you fresh ways of looking at creating and editing.

Now, the bottom line is: the best of the indie poetry scene isn’t waiting for gatekeepers to validate your words. We’re building our own ladders here. I’m involved in a project where seventeen (at the time of writing) dedicated souls are setting up a portal for presses and writers, free and unfiltered access to reviews and critiques, meant to elevate indie voices sans paywall and fuss. Promote Indie Lit will be something very special when we get it off the ground. This isn’t about us individuals being seen, it’s about leaving a legacy that reshapes the way poetry is nurtured and celebrated in the indie community.

I’ll leave you by reminding you that when you find your tribe, you’re not just surviving the solitary slog of writing. You’re thriving, driven by a shared passion and a mutual commitment to create, critique, and catalyse change in the literary landscape. So whether you’re joining a workshop, logging on to #PoemsAbout on Bluesky, or collaborating on innovative projects, remember: the strength of your words is built by the hands that hold them up.

Now, step out of that isolation. Get involved, share your truth, and let’s build something unforgettable together.