Kim Moore
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kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Kim Moore
@kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
1.5K followers 270 following 150 posts
Poet and non-fiction writer. Latest poetry collection "All The Men I Never Married" won the 2022 Forward Prize. Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at Manchester Metropolitan University. Substack: https://shorturl.at/Ea3sI
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kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
The House of Broken Things is in the house..or will be soon! V excited about my third poetry collection, published May 2026 by Corsair
November 20, 2025 at 3:37 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Join us for a double film screening at Manchester Metropolitan University to mark the start of this years 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence. Event is free but you need to book!
www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/16-days-of...
November 19, 2025 at 5:42 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Latest substack post about our visit to the epic Marina Abramovic exhibition - an amazing experience that I have completely failed to capture in language...
open.substack.com/pub/kimmoore...
October 19, 2025 at 9:12 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
New substack about motherhood, fitting in writing and upcoming National Poetry Writing Month
open.substack.com/pub/kimmoore...
March 22, 2025 at 11:48 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Happy new poem day to me! Thanks to @poetrylondon.bsky.social for publishing this one ❤️ feeling this today as I am missing so many "ordinary bedtimes" at the moment
Kim Moore Bedtime Abecedarian Ally said today her friend was sad because he wanted her to play cars with him, but she wanted to play dolls in the home corner, even if it did make him cry and moan Friendships are tough, observe, gravely, uselessly. snuggle up, hug her, bury my face in her hair. I read a book to her in a boring voice judge the moment when H can roll away, kiss her goodnight, whisper that I love her, love, love, SO love iS the last thing that she hears. Mummy she mumbles, you're my favourite. Nothing has ever felt like this, these long ordinary bedtimes full of tenderness, picking a 'surprise teddy' for her that makes quiet settle inside, like a bird coming to rest. Red is her favourite colour. She is sleeping like a fairy tale girl, before the story Underneath this love, I'm terrified. There's a song of teaches girls like her a lesson violence running through my life. I dont want it inside her mind. Today she wrote xxx in my notebook twenty times. Yesterday I held her close, then let her go. Zipped her into her red coat, closcd my eyes.
March 20, 2025 at 7:45 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Really enjoying this latest Tove Ditlevsen from @penguinbooksuk.bsky.social foreword by Olga Ravn has already made me cry this morning "I don't understand how it's possible to be a mother and a partner and a worker at the same time in this society without breaking down"
Cover of "There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die" by Tove Ditlevsen three hours tonight, and maybe our kid has asthma and I write Sorry for not responding sooner, Apologies for the late reply, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I don't understand how it's possible to be a mother and a part- ner and a worker at the same time in this society without breaking down. Let me be your canary in the coalmine, I'm about to pass out from lack of air. I am too hard to love, I am ripe for hospitalization. I cannot: arrive on time/ remember names/ make my body available at all times of day. I can: read poems/ fold clothes/ soothe my child. The poems in this selection celebrate Tove Ditlevsen in all her power and glory. It includes all the classics, such as 'Flickering Lanterns' and ' Childhood Street'. It presents Tove Ditlevsen as a working-class poet, and fea- tures those of her poems that have fallen by the wayside he hard-hitting, free-verse poems from the final years of ter life. Above all, it shows how her authorship lays bare woman's struggle between who she ought to be and who ze is. Olga Ravn Copenhagen September 2017
March 18, 2025 at 8:27 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
This beautiful poem by Katharine Towers in the latest @poetrylondon.bsky.social is just stunning.
Katharine Towers The Lark Ascending SPRING 2025, 110 The lark ascended when my father died We sat quictly in our pews as the notes took hold of the soul, at frst tugging firmly (the soul not wanting to leave), then lifting up with X sound like a soft click. Then the lark could see cverything: the lowlands where we were crying and above the pointed bluc sky. The lark's notes were like threads or like stitches. They gathered together, then drifted apart and trickled down to start again the upward toil, carrying the soul in its extremc heaviness. The lark could sce that we werc only very small that the lowlands were flat and dull. The lark could scarcely bear the wcight of the soul but still he sang as he falteringly lifted and lapsed., falteringly lapsed and lifted Then we could not see the lark at all although we could hcar the high clcan notes which dropped down upon us like rain falling from a cloud that is not there.
March 14, 2025 at 7:59 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Couldn't resist getting Isabel Galleymore's latest collection as well...I just did a slightly embarrassing out loud snort on a crowded train at the idea of a slug as a "hunkling of fudge" 🤣
BUSY, BUSY Don't you just love it when you're held up by a slug? On the path, this hunkling of fudge is plugging away at the task a little feather stuck to her side as if she plans to hand herself over to all that stuff ungummed from of moving herself, earth - don't you just love it? Don't you just love - ?
March 8, 2025 at 3:27 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Read at York Literature Festival last night with the brilliant Mary Jean Chan, Isabel Galleymore and Lillian Akumparira. I love this mirror poem from Mary Jean...
Hindsight All the ingredients necessary for happiness: I grew up well-fed, years away from conflict and its aftermath. When someone in the family knows sacrifice as the only currency, such knowledge seeps. History must suffice. My mother knew hunger. Bread, in the absence of a miracle, cannot yield more loaves. I will give myself the mango's stone, save the sweet flesh for someone else. Save the sweet flesh for someone else: I will give myself the mango's stone. A miracle cannot yield more loaves. My mother knew hunger. Bread, in the absence of history, must suffice. Such knowledge seeps: sacrifice as the only currency when someone in the family knows conflict and its aftermath. I grew up well-fed, years away from all the ingredients necessary for happiness.
March 8, 2025 at 3:23 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
The new @dseuss.bsky.social is just wonderful. Published by @fitzcarraldoeds.bsky.social
COMMA To never be touched again. That line has a sound. Hear it? I don't want to bring a story to it. Not even an image. It has a sound. Listen. To never be touched. Oh, a nurse, a doctor, but never to be touched in that way. You know what way. Listen. Hear it. Let's not tag it with a feeling. Give me a break. What possible song would you play when you toss my ashes, someone once asked me. There is no song, he said. Don't narrativize, Diane. Don't narrativize Diane. See what a comma can do?
February 18, 2025 at 9:23 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
In nicer news, I'm a finalist in the Mslexia Short Story competition! It's the first piece of fiction I've managed to finish, and the first time I've published any so am chuffed 😊
Cover of latest Mslexia 'little fish' by Kim Moore is a wonderful example of crisp, understated efficiency. While many in the shortlist spoke of pregnancy, mothering, and unspeakable loss, this story won out with gorgeous, confident writing. Moore's first person voice is a vehicle for huge emotions and precise description. Following the reflections of a new mother taking time out at a cheap hotel, the whole thing is lathered with convincing, fluid images that fit perfectly with the narrative circumstances. Moore deftly distracts us into a false sense of security in the hands of a protagonist so relatable she could be any one of us. It is difficult to write beautifully and accessibly in first person, to manouvere seamlessly between dialogue and monologue, to humanise all the actors in such a compressed space. Yet Moore succeeds so very well. Great fiction tells the truth, and this is a wonderful example of important things said clearly.
December 2, 2024 at 5:50 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Snowed in day today :( supposed to be going to Cumbria to see my mum and dad but we can't get out of our estate 🙃
November 23, 2024 at 11:05 AM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
Just released last few tickets for this event with Laura Bates and I. We've been working on a reading that weaves Laura's research and my poetry together in a unique, one-off performance. In person at @manmetuni.bsky.social on 25th November, 7.30pm-9pm or online www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/16-days-re...
November 21, 2024 at 2:45 PM
kimmoorepoet.bsky.social
This is going to be an amazing in-person event during the 16 days: Anjum Malik and Charlotte Shevchenko Knight @anjummalik.bsky.social @shevchenkoknight.bsky.social reading poetry at Manchester Poetry Library @manmetuni.bsky.social 5th December 6pm-7.30 FREE
www.mmu.ac.uk/news-and-eve...
November 21, 2024 at 2:42 PM