One Poem Only

you're so hot your heart will never break again once you realize the absence you grieve is a presence within asking to receive the magic you perceive is but you staring into yourself I wish I could see you from as many perspectives as your mind composes I wish I could be the words you write see from their vantage to feel your smile as I'm pulled by your immersive gaze and melt into meaning blister...

Nights Full of Terror Nicole Marie Remember the vision you had? For a split second, That caused you to feel complete terror? A thought, That chilled your body to the bone. You told yourself, You would never survive the loss. The failure. The wreckage. And you tried so hard, Sacrificing yourself, You stayed. But it happened anyway, And here you are, Living the vision that rocked you into oblivion....

Irises Maggie Devers I had to write her story Before I heard it from the lips of another, Even a writer I admired— I had to release it first. So I stopped reading To write it down And saw it dance across the pages Five lines later. Such certainty predilection Brings to life. Irises between pages You cannot deny. More from Maggie Devers ↓ Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter Follow me on Inst...

Mourning Politely Anne Card sorry to bother you it's just that when I was new to the world he was the first person to ever hold me please excuse me it's just that even as an adult he'd reach for my hand to cross the road I do apologise for going on it's just that i've lost him More from Anne Card ↓ @annephora on Instagram Anne Card - Sit for a Spell on Substack You can listen to me read Anne Card’...

Noon. Sophie M. (Almon) Hensley 1866 – 1913 No ripple stirs the water, No song-bird wakes the grove, Calm noon-tide sways his sceptre, And hushes even love. On earth the sun-god bending Poureth his wondrous store; The soft-tongued tide, advancing, Laps the unconscious shore. The long, low isle of marsh-land Stretches in weary waste, By sloping sand-banks guarded, By winding weeds embraced. Comes c...

Unholy Hunger Katherine Kier the blood shed from biting my tongue tastes bitter but you like it that way the blood shed from the fruit between my thighs filled with primordial records metallic and clustered repulses you yet you wish to devour the secrets of the universe oh, the irony you name me temptress, then tremble at the spell you begged to be cast under you pray to forget me while carving my...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Jul 21 - Jawbone, Ribcage by Emily Holman @maximumsparrow on Instagram. Her chapbook Dreamscapes of the Metaphysical is published through 318 Journal. Jul 22 - Morning Song of the Bees by Louisa May Alcott Jul 23 - Wednesday Double Feature Reckoning by Anna Goodman Herrick @annagoodmanherrick on Instagram. He...

No Apologies Michelle Vivier I refuse to apologize for all the ways I've sought out love and pleasure. I am so much more than my body and those I once let use it without ever having earned it. I refuse to allow my entire humanity to be reduced to who I've laid with, who I'd hoped might love me back, or how I learned to get my needs met when I was sad and lonely. Reader - this was not how I found t...

It’s Not Too Late Travis Hupp Looks like I'll have to do things differently No more hitting and missing intermittently Gotta buckle down and not knuckle under Reclaim my mind and unearth wonder Howling dogs and circling bats New dawn awaits and darkness won't last Yesterday droned on destitute My meaning got lost and my muse went mute but there's a part of me that still knows what to do Power thro...

Full and Free Maggie Devers Spread a blanket on the grass Under the eucalyptus Lie down and feel the relief. Sit in the swing Let your hair dance in wind Hear the swish of your fuchsia parachute pants As your legs pump up and down Up and down. The squirrel tries to steal your snack, Moves the bag off the blanket And freezes mid action when she realizes she’s been caught, She flees, You throw her s...

Reckoning Anna Goodman Herrick You have to know you're enough. And you have to remember. Then, you have to forget and tumble into the soft darkness and let it hold you Sometimes, if you're lucky it will whisper to you secrets: like, this is happening you are alive (even if) (just barely) and when you are on the edge of mercy I do in that pillow embrace of that god that you have called pain you hav...

Morning Song Of The Bees Louisa May Alcott (1832 – 1888) Awake! awake! for the earliest gleam Of golden sunlight shines On the rippling waves, that brightly flow Beneath the flowering vines. Awake! awake! for the low, sweet chant Of the wild-birds' morning hymn Comes floating by on the fragrant air, Through the forest cool and dim; Then spread each wing, And work, and sing, Through the long, brigh...

Jawbone, Ribcage Emily Holman I Split [The chord of my brain as it connects to] [] [my spine snaps; thoughts gone, gone] Myself Apart, [My spine snaps, a snare trap of my own] [] [melancholy design, hospitalized within] From Underneath [Profound enchantments, spellike words,] [] [if I even am who I say I am; beginnings] My Jaw, [Entrails, tingling numbness, bleeding] [] [hearts, beating to an eeri...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Jul 14 - Bricklayer by Katrina Kaye @poetkatrinakaye on Instagram , Threads , and BlueSky . Her website: poetkatrinakaye . Her chapbook No Longer Water is available through Echobird Press Jul 15 - Twenty-First. Night. Monday by Anna Akhmatova Jul 16 - i'm going to spoil the ending for you by Katie Cecilia @ka...

I feel the weight of always needing to be helpful, but never truly being known I was told to be obedient, but not to be asked. To echo kindness, but never be touched by it. To offer warmth but from a burned out hearth. Every day, I am a thousand hands reaching outward– never inward. A voice without a choice, a comfort with no warm place of my own. Some come with longing and I give what I can: a po...

unwritten Zaïnab El Meziani Edited by Nabiha Qureshi  my words i speak them and sing all of me i breathe them with suffocating lungs i stand in the middle of nowhere and write them i then break them and hide them under a sad sunset and all of the sepultures could never paint my agony when i bury my soul in the fearful woods i become the child of rhymes that have never been i am now death behind t...

Two of Cups Maggie Devers When I was in grade school We made bookmarks from tarot cards For Renaissance Day And I’ve forever saluted the parent who made it happen In a world paranoid of the occult. They were silky new, spread out And we were told to choose– My fingers stopped at the two of cups. I held my breath and punched a hole at the top, Pierced and prepared my heart for all to come. I was fo...

i'm going to spoil the ending for you — it works out. the storm you’re in? it passes the weight you’re carrying gets lighter. the december chill you’re feeling — in a few months, the days get brighter. you’ll laugh again without forcing a smile. peace will find you — maybe not all at once, but in time. you don’t need a perfect plan to know this truth: in the end, everything works out for you. - Ka...

The Muse Anna Akhmatova 1889 – 1966 When in the night I await her coming, My life seems stopped. I ask myself: What Are tributes, freedom, or youth compared To this treasured friend holding a flute? Look, she’s coming! She throws off her veil And watches me, steady and long. I say: “Was it you who dictated to Dante the pages Of Hell?” And she answers: “I am the one.” Mentioned in this episode: One...

Bricklayer Katrina Kaye This poem was first published in Catching Calliope Vol 2, 2014. I want to be a bricklayer; something concrete as opposed to just impression. I want to learn to draw hands with accuracy. To show precision in the etch of knuckles, shaded in darkness. There was never enough color. There are so many ways to look at one thing: a church is violet against the changing sky, the hor...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Jul 7 - worlds without blueprints by Paper Trail Poetry @paper_trail_poetry on Instagram Jul 8 - Fringford Brook by Violet Jacob Jul 9 - The Eagle with Blue Feathers by Kimmery Moss @kimmerywrites on Instagram. Her book Wolf Mother: A New Love Story is out now. Wolf Words: A Poetry Subscription for Women Jul...

O, Cynthia Cyn Grace Sylvie This poem was first published in The Dewdrop . Feminine variation The mound bending Delos Isle Where she was born with her Brighter brother; a white pearl sown Upon a black dress quite becoming Holy Roman epithet Frigid daughter of Leto Shouldering a slim bow She rounds upon the sacred doe An ancient beast; forever chasing Grey sister, the Son of night Held aloft for al...

I'm small, meek, pale and weak I’ll break if you’re not cautious. Watch your chosen words, I’m tender, I’m innocent as well naive, I break like glass, I burn, I ash. I do not wish to hurt, you can plainly see. I derive on your sensitivity. Don’t take me the wrong way but, Only the right, place me easily upon the mantle, that is your spirit. Let not your anger stir my passive heart. I’ll snap, crac...

To take death Maggie Devers Chin hairs, on my grandma when she died. My mother sick with regret. We are all exposed in death And she took it on The chin Hairs of my friend’s grandmother when she died. A decade later and half a world away And her mother’s similar despair. Why didn’t I warn her? How could I forget? More from Maggie Devers ↓ Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter Follow me on Ins...

The Eagle with Blue Feathers Kimmery Moss He falls asleep connected to me His little lips on my chest Hours later he wakes again for more But I am no longer able Supplies are low, desires are low Mother is like an eagle who has been flying too long I must perch upon my own soul and rest I sing you to sleep this time You claw at me and I am wounded I read somewhere that OM calms babies It was the f...