What your support would mean to me

Dear friends and readers of Read A Little Poetry:

When I started this space in 2005 with a Louise Glück poem to convey the murmurings of my heart, I had no idea that this place will bloom into what it is now. And bloom it did, and survive we did, as we moved through the years—you and me, both—and went through so much grief and joy, despair and wonderment, anguish and curiosity. There was the overall insistence of the abyss that threatens to swallow us whole sometimes. Then there was the persistence of the world that continues to turn and asks us to live, even if just one day at a time. Throughout all of that, poetry has been a fixed point in our lives.

I am writing now, as I did a month ago, to let you know that your continued readership has been a balm to my soul and one of my truest anchors. I want to keep on doing this—to be more present, to be here with you.

After almost 16 years of reading and writing, of brooding and ruminating about our place in the universe, I am asking, with gentleness and hesitation, and most of all, love—if you can support me in this journey:

I know that it is so difficult for all of us to keep going, much more to extend generosity to others when daily life demands that we nurture our selves first and foremost, and so I want to impress upon you that you absolutely do not have to—your presence here is enough. That you share this intangible room with me is enough. That you sit with me and read words upon words upon words is enough.

But allow me to express what it would mean to be a recipient of your kindness: it would be an opportunity for me to build a closer relationship with you, as I work on making this site a bit better, with more regular posts, a better index, perhaps a domain. It would be greatly influential to me as an artist, a poet, and a writer, who dreams of pursuing this full time. It would be a gift you give as a friend—you would help me take care of myself and the things I worry about. Most of all, it will allow me to spend more time with what I love: poems.

Ah, my love, I almost want to dissolve into nothingness, having asked and knowing I am not used to it. But I remember my friend who thanked me for trusting her with my moment of vulnerability. It is safe with me, she said, and I believe her. I am hoping it is safe with you, too.

& how many times have you loved me without my asking?

—from acknowledgments by Danez Smith

Yours, and ever so grateful,
T.

**Ko-fi does not process the payment and won’t take a cut out of your donation. It all goes directly to me via PayPal (which might show you the name of my studio). You can support me as a guest (no need to create an account, though you might not be able to see future updates from me on the platform). Any information you provide me will be kept in confidentiality—I only ask that you do the same for me. Thank you.

P.S. Here is a short feedback form to share with me your thoughts on how the site has made an impact on you, and how I can improve more moving forward. Or you can sign up here instead if you are keen on hearing more updates from me in the future.

22 January 2021

4 Comments

  1. Hello, I stumbled on your beautiful site the other day. Can I ask you if you are all right, and will you post more poems in future?

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.