Jordan D. River
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jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Jordan D. River
@jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
1.3K followers 1.1K following 1.3K posts
Poet/Author. Game/Book reviews. I love feedback! Please! I write short stories and novel mostly in verse across genre, but typically horror adjacent. Check media tab for latest from me.
https://jordanrivertales.wordpress.com
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jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Jordan D. River @jordanriverwrites.bsky.social · Oct 27
#WIP #Poetry
#TreasureIsland A Rhythmic Voyage
Third Movement, The Island Cleaves
Interlude

Jim at 14, reflects on the journey so far and introduces the Doctor's tale of the shipboard mutiny.
Treasure Island A Rhythmic Voyage by J.D. River Third Movement The Island Cleaves Interlude 1/2 I didn't know then what Ben's cave would mean— that treasure scattered like seeds of grief would root in each of us, unseen, and choke whatever we believed. I thought the gold was simply gold, that maps were just lines on a page. But curses don't need to be told— they write themselves in blood and age. I thought the sea held only light— no secrets churned in its deep heart. I never guessed what tides rewrite, or what they tear, or pull apart. It wasn't just the pirate's face or blood, or guns, or buried greed. It was the way that trust misplaced can twist to hunger, clot to need. I saw the Squire lose his mask— the smile he wore back in the lane. I saw the Captain drop his task and wonder if command meant pain. I saw the Doctor watch a man go mad with thirst beside the mast— and though he knelt, and worked, and ran, there was no way to change the past. Two years have passed since then. Two years. The Doctor says that words can heal— that setting down what happened here might ease the weight I've learned to feel. I don't know if that's true. I know that some nights still I wake and see poor Tommy's eyes, still wide and slow— or hear the tap that followed me. But this I try: to trace the line from boy to—what? Not man. Not yet. Just someone who can read the signs that younger Jim had never met. But here's the part I didn't see— the hours when I fled from shore, the Doctor fought. The Squire. Redruth. While I hid with Ben's strange truth. I didn't know that men had died. I didn't know the fort was won by inches, blood, and stubborn pride— before I ever saw the sun rise over walls they'd built at night, while Silver hunted, rage-made blind. I thought myself the only fight— but left my brothers far behind. Treasure Island A Rhythmic Voyage by J.D. River Third Movement The Island Cleaves Interlude 2/2 I didn't know that men had died. I didn't know the fort was won by inches, blood, and stubborn pride— before I ever saw the sun rise over walls they'd built at night, while Silver hunted, rage-made blind. I thought myself the only fight— but left my brothers far behind. The Doctor told me, days from then, what happened while I ran and hid. He didn't judge. He just said, "Jim, You'll want to know what each man did." What follows here, the Doctor wrote— or spoke, and I've set down his words. The voice will change. You'll hear his note: more measured, calm, precisely heard. He speaks of siege and fire and loss, of men who held when hope ran thin. He speaks of Silver's final toss— the moment when the war begins. And when he's done, you'll find me there: a boy who'd fled, now coming home— around the fort's rough-timbered square, no longer quite so scared, alone. The Doctor speaks. I step aside. This movement closes with his view: of how the loyal fought and died, and what they feared I wouldn’t do.
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Few volumes thrilled me more as a young one than this very one.
thefolklorepress.bsky.social The FolkLore Press @thefolklorepress.bsky.social · 17h
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping...

~ from The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe, #botd 1809

art: The Raven by Gustave Doré
January 19, 2026 at 11:47 AM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
thebrokenspine.co.uk
Last week bent time.
This week: #FalseCrowns — borrowed authority, inherited power, praise that doesn’t fit.
Who crowned you?
Who benefits from you believing it?

New theme opens Friday.
Don’t post early.
Use Alt Text.
Tag #PoemsAbout to be found.
A pale blue skull sits centred on a white plinth against a soft teal background. An ornate black crown rests on top of the skull, delicate and sharp in contrast to the smooth bone beneath. The Broken Spine fountain pen logo appears in the top left corner. “@thebrokenspine.co.uk” is written in white at the top right. Bold white text in the lower right reads: “Read Repost Reply #POEMSABOUT #FALSECROWNS”.
January 18, 2026 at 10:00 AM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Probably the most important paper on generative AI and how our current approach (implied within the systems we live under ie greed and control) is destructive of the concept of society. Please read and pass around. Not alarmism.
papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers....
How AI Destroys Institutions
Civic institutions—the rule of law, universities, and a free press—are the backbone of democratic life. They are the mechanisms through which complex societies
papers.ssrn.com
January 14, 2026 at 3:31 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
linosversion.bsky.social
Sunday Thought: A Monologue Against Fascism

It would appear that #fascism is rearing its ugly head – and not just in far flung places like Russia, Turkey, or even Hungary – but in the good ole USA as well.

more... linomatteo.wordpress.com/2026/01/11/a...
A Monologue Against Fascism
Sunday Thought: A Monologue Against Fascism It would appear that fascism is rearing its ugly head – and not just in far flung places like Russia, Turkey, or even Hungary – but in the good ole USA a…
linomatteo.wordpress.com
January 11, 2026 at 1:50 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
roguestrands.bsky.social
Just take no notice of the flags
in every town...
roguestrands.bsky.social Matthew Stewart @roguestrands.bsky.social · 9d
This is a poem about the B word. About the Hostile Environment. About those bl**dy flags.

It's taken from Whatever You Do, Just Don't, my second full collection. Drop me a DM if you'd like a signed copy...
January 10, 2026 at 9:25 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
A meditation on collapse.
January 10, 2026 at 5:40 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Now this is a vision board.
louiseblackwick.com Louise Blackwick 🔜 Book signing tour @louiseblackwick.com · 15d
Context: in my next Vivian Amberville novel, the main cast of characters capture one of these Darkthings that dwell in the abyss of reality (beyond the Dark Door between Life and Death) and name it "Fredrik".

Original creature design by yours truly.

Materials used: stone clay, iron skeleton.
Context: in my next Vivian Amberville novel, the main cast of characters capture one of these Darkthings that dwell in the abyss of reality (beyond the Dark Door between Life and Death) and name it "Fredrik". Original creature design by yours truly. Materials used: stone clay, iron skeleton. Context: in my next Vivian Amberville novel, the main cast of characters capture one of these Darkthings that dwell in the abyss of reality (beyond the Dark Door between Life and Death) and name it "Fredrik". Original creature design by yours truly. Materials used: stone clay, iron skeleton.
January 10, 2026 at 5:20 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
"Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that his justice cannot sleep forever..." - Thomas Jefferson, 1784

www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_Q9...
No Gringo
YouTube video by Vienna Teng - Topic
www.youtube.com
January 8, 2026 at 8:54 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
TFW you finally finish writing something you think is really good despite being exhausted and burnt out by the Red Queen's Race but since you wrote it for a contest you can't share anything about it for the next 3.25 months. rattle.com/page/chapboo...
a man in a suit and tie is holding his head and screaming in an office .
ALT: a man in a suit and tie is holding his head and screaming in an office .
media.tenor.com
January 7, 2026 at 5:50 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
I received my copy of Gramarye in the mail Saturday. Look at how gorgeous it is! Thank you @chicentreffsf.bsky.social ! I devoured it all in one sitting. Everything about the production of this quarterly cries care and quality. The contents give me huge Imposter Syndrome feels. So good!
A book leaning against a laptop screen . Screen shows the Chichester Centre for fairy tales, fantasy and speculative fiction website. The book is the Gramarye ,Winter Journal 2025. If you zoom in really far you will see my name marring this beautiful cover. A book held in hand, open to the page of the journal where my three poems start. Gramarye chose an excellent creepy front image for them and most impressively they got the font tricks of the first poem "The Counting Game" correct! It was risky sending that one but they handled it like pros. Gramarye winter 2025 journal, open in hand to the other two poems I sent "Barley, Bidden, Bain't no More" and "Harkle, Darkle, Liddle Spar" Table of Contents to the Winter 2025 issue of Gramarye. Incredible articles and poetry!
January 5, 2026 at 9:06 AM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Very proud to be in this issue. Please check out the other fantastic poems included here! #Poetry #Alliteration
rhunedhel.bsky.social Paul Deane @rhunedhel.bsky.social · 16d
While I'm reading submissions for the Winter issue of Forgotten Ground Regained, enjoy reading the current issue, devoted to Norse and Icelandic poetic form.

alliteration.net/current-issue/
Current Issue: Fall 2025
Forgotten Ground Regained: A Quarterly Journal of Alliterative Verse
alliteration.net
January 3, 2026 at 8:43 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
juliusgoat.bsky.social
Today I wrote about our white supremacist political movement's perverse insistence that "we don't have to apologize for being white anymore."

Conservatives have been apologizing, apparently. Did you know? I had no idea. So I asked, and here's what I found.

www.the-reframe.com/apologies-fo...
Apologies For Being White
How supremacists convert responsibility into blame to avoid paying natural costs and to make everyone else pay unnatural ones.
www.the-reframe.com
January 3, 2026 at 4:07 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Can I suggest an addon resolution for this year?

Buy less. That's it. No specific oligarch to boycott. No real target to hit. Just buy less. Do you need what's in your basket or do you want it? Change your hierarchy of wants. Take a breath. You can jump back on the treadmill at any time. Buy Less.
January 2, 2026 at 10:52 AM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
thebrokenspine.co.uk
Submissions are open.

Poetry that remembers.
That mourns.
That refuses to let go.

Read the call carefully. Take your time. Send the work that needs to exist.

#PoemsAbout #LiftToTheSky #WednesdayWIPs #SpineEdicts #PoetryCommunity #SubmissionWindow #OpenCall #Poetry
Call for Submissions: Poetry That Remembers, Mourns, and Refuses to Let Go - The Broken Spine
Submissions Open Throughout January 2026 | Publication Later That Year
thebrokenspine.co.uk
January 1, 2026 at 10:00 AM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
roguestrands.bsky.social
I only want a single pair of hands to stretch my spine and open me at last...
September 21, 2025 at 11:07 AM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
Brigadune.
December 29, 2025 at 4:26 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
backwardsknight.com
The Dark Side of Super is 11 interconnected stories about the costs of powers; mental, physical, emotional, or otherwise.

Come for these dark, gritty, realistic takes on power and stay for the thriller/heist.

Novella length, so you can squeeze it in 2025!

Get it anywhere books are sold!

#BookSky
Trope image for The Dark Side of Super. Twist ending, super powers with a cost, thriller, multi pov, snarky characters, urban fantasy, normal people...?, novella
December 29, 2025 at 4:11 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
chmmagazine.bsky.social
It's been a good year, and we have the horror to prove it. The Fifth Year Box Set of CHM is available to order here: https://bit.ly/44Nyf51
December 29, 2025 at 1:07 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
louiseblackwick.com
2025 has been an unbelievable year for my writing. I'd like to thank everyone who's given my dark & twisted fantasy & sci-fi stories a chance with a #Winter #Bookfest!

🟦25% off on all my eBooks
&
🟩50% off on all eBook bundles, until 11 Jan. 2026 on www.louiseblackwick.com/books

Happy Holidays! 💙📚
2025 has been an unbelievable year for my writing. I'd like to thank everyone who's given my dark & twisted fantasy & sci-fi stories a chance with a #Winter #Bookfest! 🟦25% off on all my eBooks & 🟩50% off on all eBook bundles, until 11 Jan. 2026 on www.louiseblackwick.com/books Happy Holidays! 💙📚
December 19, 2025 at 3:30 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
rhunedhel.bsky.social
Getting close! The deadline for submissions to the Winter issue of Forgotten Ground Regained is January 1st.
December 26, 2025 at 1:21 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
#Poetry #Collapse
It's been incredibly difficult to write anything the last few months.
Elegy for a Vanished Vocation J.D. River 1/2 I lost my wage two winters past— not the work, but the world that gave it shape. A quarter-century in pursuit, the second dream stitched from first’s ruin, that too was taken. Not by failure, but by slogans, scorched by the first Great Culture War, where the soul was fenced in, parceled out in packets marked _progress_. Not tenure. No gold watch at dusk. Just a hull—heart-oak and seasoned— scuttled for the ledger’s cold demand. The dry dock burned, no new keel permitted. I yielded, as the shattered spar yields to the brine— not with rage, but with something like reverence. I returned to a primary joy, once cradled in younger hands: writing— not for wage, but for breath. Poetry: the one form still free of asking. Music that requires no receipt. Only witness. I was made in the image of the Maker. So I made. I wrote like prayer, like psalm, like fire. For two years, I sang in silence. Forged syllables into salt and steam. Built meaning from breath, laid down language like planks. But the world pays not for wordsmiths, not now. So I found a job again. A role with currency. A title. A measure of esteem— as defined by a machine. And lo— the words go silent. The forge cooled My days: devoured. Energy: ash. Even medicine arrives now like alms from a faceless hand— a gift from strangers who do not knock. "This is life," they say— and shame me for grieving. I used to be useful. I used to be joyful . I tried to return but the world won’t let me and it tells me I shouldn’t mind. But I do. I mind with every part of me that was made to make. Now I manage. So I went searching for a bell— not electric, just iron and rope. The kind a monastery would know. The kind that asks the air to listen. Ten years ago: artisans, foundries, makers. Now: three mirrored masks, selling thirty bells in infinite scroll. Page after page: not abundance— _replication_. I wanted one thing in particular. The network gave me Everything, which is Nothing. Elegy for a Vanished Vocation J.D. River 2/2 I wanted a human to make sense of the past. I found a documentary— two and a half hours, voiced by no one, scripted by no one, imagined by no one. Human creativity has been delisted. And then the recommendations: thirty seconds of a man explaining that the high-IQ people deserve the best work. As if intelligence were virtue. As if virtue were genetic. As if we haven't read this script before— haven't seen the calipers, the charts, the ash. The Engine has cast my horoscope: Wrathful. Pale. Displaced. Seeking my tribe. It offers me a throne of ash and calls it "achievement." But I am not the only one searching. How many hands tonight reach for a bell and find only its thousand echoes? How many voices, throttled mid-song, learn to call their exhaustion _normal_? The algorithm doesn't see _me_— it sees ten million versions of me, a demographic, a data-shape, a wound it knows how to salt. The Maker made me. But we— we let ourselves be managed. Now we are data. Debt. Devoured. We traded the voice of the prophet for a pitch deck, rewrote psalms as slogans, broke the bread of communion and sold it back as brand. We surrendered the vellum to the hollow-wrought, who struck the Vocation of Man from the Living Word— who redacted the spirit until "Human" was a ghost-script. A fever-dream. Deferred. And still, the Crone of Scarcity whispers: _"There is no such thing as society."_ But I know— it wasn’t truth. It was a threat. And still— somewhere— a bell rings.
December 23, 2025 at 7:57 PM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
rhunedhel.bsky.social
It's a good season for #Psalms and #Meditations!

Check out Forgotten Ground Regained's call for submissions for Winter, 2026.

alliteration.net/call-for-submissions/ #submissionscall #CallForSubmissions #opencall #alliterative #poetry #poetrysky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity
Call for Submissions: Psalms and Meditations
Submit your alliterative poems to Forgotten Ground Regained by January 1
alliteration.net
December 3, 2025 at 10:15 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
I have a bit of a wintry gothic tale in this fine collection. Out very soon!
thebrokenspine.co.uk The Broken Spine (SUBS OPEN) @thebrokenspine.co.uk · Nov 16
Our festive & wintry short-fiction anthology Soot & Boots lands later this month. Hardback + paperback. Sharp stories for dark nights. More soon. #SootAndBoots
Book cover for “Soot & Boots: An Anthology of Short Festive Fiction.” The illustration shows a pair of tall, black, soot-dusted boots standing on a scuffed wooden floor against a textured blue-grey wall. The title appears in bold white lettering above the boots, and The Broken Spine’s logo sits at the bottom of the cover.
November 26, 2025 at 11:51 AM
Reposted by Jordan D. River
jcsimonds.bsky.social
#SaturdaySelfPromo
#Romantasy
#KingArthurRomantasy
#ParanormalRomance
#ReincarnationRomance
#UrbanFantasy
#BookSky
jcsimonds.bsky.social jcsimonds @jcsimonds.bsky.social · Nov 21
I'm posting chapter-by-chapter of THE MIDSUMMER WIFE, my #KingArthur #Romantasy, on Substack.

Chapter 16: Ava reveals almost all of her secrets to Ron, including the secret of her priestess wings. Their lovemaking that night is intense.

tinyurl.com/bdf828sc

#BookSky
The Midsummer Wife - Chapter 16
This is Chapter 16 of The Midsummer Wife, Book 1 of the Heirs to Camelot, a King Arthur Romantasy/paranormal Romance/reincarnation Romance/Urban Fantasy.
tinyurl.com
November 22, 2025 at 3:40 PM
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social
I am still working on Treasure Island, but I've more things in the pile than I have time left. I bring this up and repost the link to this Persona #Poem because I have revised this poem to have more effect and added two other persona poems to form the seed of a new cycle. Watch this space!
jordanriverwrites.bsky.social Jordan D. River @jordanriverwrites.bsky.social · Oct 25
Hey! That's me! Two of my poems, a persona poem called Voice of the Wendigo, and a mythic Creed of the Wendigo. I am so honored to be published in Lothlorien!
November 20, 2025 at 3:18 PM