#PoemsAbout didn’t come from a content strategy meeting. It came from the middle of the mess.

It started in the early days of the pandemic, when everything felt atomised. We were locked down, isolated, and leaning harder than ever on the digital spaces we once took for granted. I saw how poetry hashtags were pulling people together on Twitter, back when it still felt like a place you could breathe. Writers were finding each other. Readers were discovering new voices. Communities were springing up around a shared love for language. It was messy, yes, but it was alive.

I wanted to contribute something to that, something real. But I didn’t want to copy what already existed. I didn’t want another curated clique, or a thread full of favourites from the same five names. I wanted a prompt that anyone could respond to. Something non-elitist, non-exclusive, and actually responsive. That’s how #PoemsAbout was born.

In the beginning, I wasn’t consistent. I’d post prompts whenever I could find the time. I encouraged people to share either new poems or old favourites that fit the theme. It worked, for a while. But it was scrappy. I was still figuring it all out, still dealing with the same burnout and disconnection as everyone else. Still finding my voice as an editor and community-builder.

But something kept pulling me back. The more regular I got, the more responsive people became. Slowly, the readers dropped off, and the writers stepped forward. They weren’t just posting existing poems, they were writing to the theme. That was the shift. The thing I’d hoped for. So I stopped asking for favourite poems and focused entirely on creating the kind of space that encouraged new work. Originality. Experimentation. Growth. At it’s height here, we were hitting twenty-five poems a week,

Then Twitter mutated into X. You know the story. It became a hostile space, ideologically, culturally, creatively. Staying there would’ve meant biting my tongue every time I logged in. I couldn’t do it. I left. I walked away from over 5,000 followers and cancelled every scheduled post. Just cut the cord. I atill don’t understand how anybody of sane mind hasn’t done this at this stage in the game. Nor do I understand how it took me so long. I’m more than aware how staying would have tarnished my and the press’s reputation. Side note, if you’re anti-AI and using X, you should be aware that your content was harvested to train its AI. It was forced to stop.

I gave Threads a shot. Briefly. There was potential, but the culture wasn’t right, too image-obsessed, too much noise, too little poetry that felt grounded. And when Meta dropped its fact-checkers? That was it. I was done there too. Social media really is fraught with danger. Those legacy platforms are really not worth the effort at this point.

So I took a leap. A full migration. #PoemsAbout moved to Bluesky exclusively.

At the time, I had around 500 followers there. It felt small. Risky. Like stepping off the stage and hoping someone would follow. They did! Well some did. Writers I knew started showing up. Not just the loyal #PoemsAbout ones, but the principled ones I’d never previously known. The ones who saw the rot setting in on other platforms and wanted somewhere cleaner, quieter, kinder. Within weeks, The Broken Spine’s reach on Bluesky overtook what we’d ever had on Twitter. Engagement was up. Energy was up. #PoemsAbout was suddenly the most exciting thing I’d ever been part of.

And it kept building.

I started using my newsletter properly. Dropped weekly themes into inboxes every Saturday, along with seven bonus prompts, prescriptive, no-nonsense exercises built to help writers actually improve. I offered feedback. Shared highlights. Gave early access to events, releases, and workshops. The subscriber list jumped. People were submitting poems all week. Bluesky and #PoemsAbout weren’t just surviving. They were thriving.

Now, we average over sixty poets a week. That number’s growing. We’ve held open mics, hosted live events, and I’m deep into writing the #PoemsAbout book: 52 weekly themes, each one expanded into seven prompts. It’s no longer just a way to raise the profile of The Broken Spine online. It is the profile. It’s the spine, and the bloodstream. A proper, community-led poetry ecosystem.

And the most beautiful part? It’s free. Every single week. No paywalls. No submission fees. No gatekeeping. Just people writing in public, supporting each other, and turning up.

If you want to be part of something real, something distinctly not curated, not corporate, and not here to flatter you into a follow, you’re in the right place.

This Is Your Shop Window

Let me be completely upfront, if you’re turning up regularly to #PoemsAbout, if you’re writing to the themes, sharing generously, supporting other poets, then yes, I’m paying attention.

This isn’t a publishing shortcut, and there are no guarantees. But if your work aligns with an open call, and I’ve seen you showing up every week, giving as much as you take? I’m far more likely to publish you.

That’s not about favouritism. That’s about energy. I want to work with writers who are active, curious, and collaborative. Writers who care about other writers. Writers who see this as more than just another platform to promote themselves on.

If you publish once and disappear, you’ll get a small response. But that’s all. You won’t get the best of what this community has to offer. Because the best of it only happens when you stick around, when you show up, when you actually give a damn.

And thanks to Lucy Heuschen, who built an incredible feed system in early 2025, everything’s now fully searchable. Your poems don’t just vanish into the ether, they can be found. Read. Revisited. Celebrated.

If you want visibility, if you want growth, if you want real connection, #PoemsAbout is your shop window. Clean it. Use it. Fill it with something brilliant.

How to Get Involved

1. Join Bluesky
This is where #PoemsAbout lives. Not Threads. Not X. Not Instagram. Just Bluesky.

2. Follow The Broken Spine
Everything goes through The Broken Spine’s Bluesky #PoemsAbout feed: weekly prompts, announcements, responses, and more.

3. Look Out for the Sunday Theme Post
Every Sunday, a new graphic goes up announcing that week’s theme. When you share your poem, use both hashtags:

4. Write Your Poem
Any form, any style, any background. As long as it fits the theme in some meaningful way, you’re in.

5. Post It on Bluesky
Share your poem between 00:00 Friday and 23:59 Thursday of the following week. Tag @BrokenSpineArts.bsky.social and myself @AlanParry83.bsky.social but always remember to use the hashtags.

6. Engage with Others
Read. Respond. Repost. Community isn’t a one-way street, and this works best when people show up for each other.

7. Subscribe to the Newsletter
Get more out of the experience:

8. Keep Showing Up
Some weeks you’ll write. Some you won’t. That’s fine. But the more you return, the more value you’ll get. This is creative consistency, on your terms, in good company.

Why It Still Matters

#PoemsAbout was built on the idea that poetry should be public, accessible, and unpretentious. Not a competition. Not a flex. Not a closed circle. It’s for every kind of poet, published or not, polished or still finding your feet.

Yes, I have preferences. Everyone does. But the only things I care about here are connection, kindness, and craft. You write. You support others. You turn up. That’s enough. Really.

If you’re looking for a serious, supportive, non-toxic space to write and grow, this is it. It’s not an imitation. It’s not an algorithm-chasing gimmick.

It’s distinctly Broken Spine. And it works.

This Is Writing.