One Poem Only

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...

“My heart is a museum of every person I’ve ever loved” Megan Phillips My heart is a museum of every person I’ve ever loved My Dad’s birthday is national start over day Yesterday I told the ocean that I would let go of all the victim bullshit I would let the past me be in the rearview I will be new after washing my feet in the sand Venus, I said, I will have more fun And love And I won’t be bitter...

January Born JC I was winter’s child, wrapped in borrowed wool, breath small as frost on windowpanes. 
 The world outside was brittle then, trees bare-boned against a sky that never learned warmth, roads lined with grit and quiet. 
 Inside, there was laughter, steam from mugs that fogged the kitchen glass, a lullaby of radiators clanking as if they too were proud to keep me alive. 
 January taught...

New Dawn Kyeremah ‎Smile on me, ‎the Sun is awakening. ‎Yesterday and today left no crumbs ‎We begin from there. ‎ ‎I won't tell you how to live ‎But be happy, ‎be happy ‎ ‎One step at a time ‎Love, eat and pray ‎Give thanks and make merry. ‎ ‎Today will be gone ‎So will you, someday ‎But what will matter ‎Is that you lived well. ‎ ‎So be happy, ‎be happy. More from Kyeremah ↓ @Kyere_mah on Instag...

Of Love and Hell Kajal Of how the hell fell in love and went straight to heaven, I know the story of a dove who used to weep for a raven. Nights when Earth cried for tearing Sun and Moon apart, When horizons used to pain world, there was no war in the name of art. Take me back to the time when agony was not a trend, time of ancients, where lies beginnings end. More from Kajal ↓ @mermaidspen_ on In...

Cold Plunging Kristin Yates Breath leaves my lips like a bird, and I feel the cardinals and the chickadees and the cold in my hands sing. I become the shiver of saying it: I love you enough to let you live. More from Kristin Yates ↓ @beautefantasy on Instagram You can find links to her published work on her Linktree Mentioned in this episode: One Poem Only submissions are open. I’m filling the nex...

Eclipse of the Self Ruvaani I dissolved in the shadow of my own becoming, where every heartbeat was an echo of absence, and every breath a question unspoken. The world pressed against my ribs, but in the hollow between despair and forgetting, a seed trembled— ancient, patient, luminous. From it rose fire unbidden, not to burn what remained, but to weave the fragments of me into a new geometry of b...

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead. Dec 22 - From a Home, to a House by Gunneet Kaur Bhamra @wordsmith._.witxh on Instagram. She's founder of a creative club for teenage writers, called The Pioneering Pens . Members learn new forms and styles of poetry, have monthly theme based challenges, edit weekly newsletter and make every voice heard. If y...

Return to Light Gordan Struić The longest night exhales, and somewhere beneath the frost a seed remembers warmth. I walk through fields where shadows thin like old thoughts, each breath a small sunrise. Inside me, the dark softens — becomes room for light again. More from Gordan Struić ↓ @gstruic on Instagram @gordanstruic on Substack Mentioned in this episode: One Poem Only submissions are open....

Silent Echoes Zahra In the quiet descent of twilight's curtain, I stand, a solitary figure, uncertain. Lost within the shifting hues of fading light, I navigate the spaces where solitude takes flight. Threads of connection, delicate and fine, A tapestry woven with the hands of time. Moments form a mosaic, a complex array, Each fragment a story, in shadows they sway. Silent whispers linger in the v...

“little tree” E.E. Cummings little tree little silent Christmas tree you are so little you are more like a flower who found you in the green forest and were you very sorry to come away? see i will comfort you because you smell so sweetly i will kiss your cool bark and hug you safe and tight just as your mother would, only don't be afraid look the spangles that sleep all the year in a dark box drea...