One Poem Only

Born of Ashes Goldilocks We were born of ashes and blood, In a shattered past stained with death. Each word hurt like a knife stabbing, Each day felt closer to the end. The pain did not stop for a second, It grew bigger with rage. Despite it all, survival was my saviour. Living got me into the arms of a soul like mine. A soul that needed mine, a soul that found me too. A soul that needed saving an...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Jan 19 - Chasing the Light by Old Fart with a Guitar @old_fart_with_a_guitar on Instagram. Stream his music: OFWAG LinkTree . Jan 20 - A Merciless Winter by Farida Shamim Jan 21 - Don't call it hope or you'll scare it away by Candace Kronen rom Candace Kronen @candacekronenpoetry on Instagram. Her Substack: S...

Same Old Story Amelia Cabantog Everyday the news replays the same old stories. So, and so, died So, and, so was deported So, and, so's rights are being taken away. Meanwhile a mother is crying because her baby is slowly dying And a brother is screaming because he doesn't know how to cope with all of his feelings And a girl is lying broken, in a bed she did not make. The people outside are screamin...

“Hope isn't a shy thing” Eileen Strawberry Hope isn't a shy thing She has white knuckles and spits grit When oppressors beat down on her shoulders She draws her sword swiftly No hesitation No deliberation She will slay dragons for her kin Hope isn't a pretty thing Scars mar her complexion She's missing some teeth Dirt crusts under her nails Calluses roughen her feet Yet her vision is clear Her hea...

Shimmer Jessie Marie my shimmering heart draped in tears drums a song behind a thorny cage ghosts dressed in moonlight wail against the inky black of night sorrow is stitched into their eyes an echo of dreams heard on the wind I restore myself in the light of the stars a spotlight of hope drinks me up such a dream of being whole again More from Jessie Marie ↓ @Jessie. Kaiser on Instagram and Threa...

Don't call it hope or you'll scare it away Candace Kronen Call it window or thread or undone button, call it plump lips and the slip of a sound, open palm with a single split seed whispers of paw prints in a blanket of snow, baby hairs and broccoli sprouts, call it half hug of a parenthesis, handprint in the cave, defiant little fiddlehead pushing through the dirt, call it a clearing of the throat...

A Merciless Winter Farida Shamim How cruel you are, Winter — couldn’t you wait a little longer? Why didn’t you wait until the children fell asleep, their dreams unbroken, their bellies not empty? My little ones lie down hungry, and now — how could I cover them, how could I protect them from your harsh, merciless air? Can’t you see — we can no longer see tomorrow we can’t even weep. Our tears have...

Chasing the Light Old Fart with a Guitar With all the bad news and all the bad vibes And the battle lines drawn between the tribes, I was lathered up, hosed down, spun around and hung out to dry. Still, life goes on at 60 years an hour And I wondered if I’d wasted my time, Cause there was so much sorrow I was running out of tears to cry… Til one day a small stone thrown by a small fry Up n hit a g...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Jan 12 - Happiness by Navya Chaudhary @chaoticconfessor on Instagram. Her book, Unfinished Letters , is out now. Jan 13 - I Promise by Riley Hope McPheters @rileyhmcpheters on Instagram. She is a member of @PoetzPortalFW , that exists to awaken consciousness and cultivate liberated creative practice through t...

The Anatomy of Dawn Saleha Najeeb Do not mistake the smile for light. It is merely how we hide the mourning of what never had a funeral. Grief, it does not arrive or leave, it resides, like a second pulse beneath the one we claim to feel. I have carried it, you know the quiet dissonance of appearing alive while the soul rehearses its own absence. There are days I speak, but every word drips throug...

Maman Maggie Devers I see the most amazing spider web Stretching between two trees And it is huge. When the light hits it just so It glimmers as a precious gem, An intricate pattern that looks fragile, But isn’t. And I realize That’s what I want to do in this life— Make something as beautiful and impossible as that. You can listen to the audiobook of For My Daughter in its entirety here .

The Season of Returning Lara I fell into winter, a quiet collapse of light. Bare branches above me, and silence heavy as snow. The frost took my laughter, the wind took my name, and I drifted through the cold, like breath caught between worlds. But the earth- she never forgot me. She hummed beneath the ice, a low song, ancient and patient: even the seed must sleep before it blooms. And I listened,...

Rooted Shaq Mendes Women are Queens, Men are Kings well - Along w/ the throne, you needah'; _ Have that Crown _ Take a journey down a path where, the end'll have you feeling like Gold; Gold - ha_ha I know being rich is the goal, this type of Rich, is gonna come from your Soul; So... the Gold _ won't be shinny, nor rectangular shaped, It's gonna weigh the same as you nothing more; There's a Pulse.....

Aloof Luwa Aloof poof, jump off the roof as proof They use the news to deduce and reduce the abuse Thrown and blown our way while we moan and groan Unable to table the insatiable desire for the fable That makes us weaker, bleaker yet we are eager For we have aligned, misaligned our brains to malign Images that damages, and abscond our privileges. More from Luwa ↓ @luwawrites on Instagram You can l...

I Promise Riley Hope McPheters When you are sad- It feels that is who you are. You are not the sad of a hard day, Nor the sad of a loved one gone too soon, You are a sad that is in your blood, Cold and slow. A depression deeper than the depths of rock bottom. Rock bottom becomes your safety net- And when it is not deep enough to relate to the pain within your own walls, You scrape with your nails...

Happiness Navya Chaudhary If you are out there chasing happiness, Then I want you to remember this. If you're chasing it, It's definitely not yours. Happiness is not somewhere out there, It's hidden in those small moments around you. The one you don't notice very often. And sometimes, You don't even have to find it. You can create it. Why wait for someone else to bring you happiness? When you can...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs by Renée Nicole Good. She was murdered by ICE on January 7, 2026. In 2020, she won the undergraduate Academy of American Poets Prize in 2020 for this poem. Jan 5 - Becoming Again by Reya @moodmakerperson on Instagram. Her book, Teenage Tide , is available now. Jan 6 - To Fall...

The Tender Descending Ellie Augustin The earth exhales and everything slows. The trees remember what it means to be bare. We gather what warmth remains in our hands and stitch our dreams beneath quiet skies. Each flake that lands upon the skin is a messenger of mercy, a reminder that even in endings, something tender still descends. More from Ellie A ↓ @lines_between_living on Instagram and @lines...

part oracle, part warrior Aslam a crescent moon, hangs like a scar on her shoulder’s silence. her lips sealed by vow or violence. her eyes do not ask. they know. they have watched empires bleed on blades of their own lies. she stands in gray, spine unbent, each scar a sentence she never had to explain. call it rebellion. call it myth. a woman who no longer waits. she is the ink and the echo, the s...

On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs Renée Nicole Good This poem was awarded the Academy of American Poets Prize in 2020 . i want back my rocking chairs, solipsist sunsets, & coastal jungle sounds that are tercets from cicadas and pentameter from the hairy legs of cockroaches. i’ve donated bibles to thrift stores (mashed them in plastic trash bags with an acidic himalayan salt lamp— the post-bapt...

Genesis of Her Kiran Ashraf Her body is like a powerful tide looming in an ever-flowing motion chewing on her emotions like rice she aches to read in sheltering arms wearing her chaos for a better life her skin is a wild thing at its best memories in her songs of grief now trembled and hummed in her bones like a silent gust of unfinished wreckage or an absent orchestra of musical hell her two eyes...

Transmorphing Özge Lena This Poem was commended for Winged Muse Poetry Competition of Winged Moon Literary Magazine After Harpy by Valerie Hammond In seven nights she will burst into nothing. Now all alone in a cream coloured void, a wound like creature, a word hunger like no other. Soon you will meet her in the neon gloaming, after the ruby ache of not writing for a long winter, frost flowers in...

To Fall Is to Begin Irina Vérène i won’t be dragged past the pearly gates— i’ll leave of my own volition. with these heavenly rules stifling my breath, i must say, it seems a wise decision. amidst the flames and the curling smoke, i shall rise anew— after all, a fall from heaven, a descent to hell, is a baptism, too. More from Irina Vérène ↓ @queen_of_gore on Instagram They are featured in Haunted...

Becoming Again Reya I didn’t rise like fire — I rose like forgiveness. Lost me once, still trying, sky’s the limit, I’m craving the climb. Thoughts that once broke me now make me alive again. Words find me, like a heart reborn — one heartbreak broke a million dreams, but that heartbreak built me stronger — heartless enough to fight for them again. More from Reya ↓ @moodmakerperson on Instagram Her...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Dec 29 - Eclipse of the Self by Ruvaani @ruvaani.unclaimed on Instagram. Her book, The Sunken Daffodil , is out now. Dec 30 - Cold Plunging by Kristin Yates @beautefantasy on Instagram. You can find links to her published work on her Linktree . Dec 31 - Of love and hell by Kajal @mermaidspen_ on Instagram and...