Blazing Poetry: Poems and soul manifestos

A space to collect, discuss and post poems, stories and soul manifestos inspired by, through and beyond Campfire Convention!

You are here

by Steve Thorp
Created on 15 Nov 2019

In November, in a magical place (Selgars Mill in Devon), a dozen or more soul manifestos were born. They emerged from the individuals making up the second Trailblazers group in a workshop in which the intention was to give space to words that transform and tell new stories of soul, connection and change.

What emerged were beautiful, poignant, angry, loving, connecting, gentle, fierce and eloquent poetic manifestos of the soul. These are seeds of new stories for our times drawn from shared knowledge and humanity we all carry deep inside. In gathering words, connecting them and making them into something, we can conjure the psychological resilience and motivation that feeds the flames of our activism — “keeping the fires burning through winter” — as the Trailblazers slogan puts it.

So you are invited to post a poem, or a post about a poem or poetry here – and to develop your own soul manifesto for the future...



Fri, 11/15/2019

I pick up words


the stuff I make – and you make too – will be soul-touched in the moment, ferocious in its love


This poem was used as the introductory invitation and jump-off piece for a Soul Manifestos workshop facilitated by Steve Thorp at the recent Trailblazers 2 weekend in November 2019.


I pick up words from around the place and make stuff from them.

They’re sometimes big and horrid words and sometimes nice and

sometimes short and simple words and I get love from them.

Sometimes the words are things and sometimes they’re living, 

or have lived, and I pick up sadness until it gives way to another emotion, 

less straightforward. Someone tells me to pick myself up, and so 

I pick up fear and anger and something else nearer to grief and nearer

to the ground. This is where I should pick up stuff: beneath the trees,

beside the ponds and from the edges of pathways that wend to the river.

When I was a boy I would have made stuff from this stuff I’m picking up. 

Now I’m picking up words that are living, crying, despairing, dying, 

and, as I walk slowly around this place, I will make them into something. 

I will make a poem, a story, a song and a manifesto; a mandala made

from leaves and sticks, a flag and a whisper that carries its way around

the world in soft transmission and in birdsong.  And the stuff I make –

and you make too – will be soul-touched in the moment, ferocious in its love.




The Photo at the head of this post is by Jelleke Vanooteghem on Unsplash

Find an edited version of my talk at the workshop at: