Do you look at a part of yourself in the eye Advanced forms of breathing Undiscovered ways of seeing Pristine disclosures Do things just be what they are Is there a creature who can comprehend the world

Willing to go a long way for a cookie

washed clean after rain crow-towers of cumulus clipped from white paper

we looked away once and the whole horizon changed without needing us #haiku #vote

Nature tells us things The crow was eating vomit Doesn't sound too good #poetry #haiku #nature

Eons of pacific rain The mountains slump Granite weeping toward the sea

Adele Elise Williams, our Poet of The Week 💙

#poetry #poems #poet #creativewriting #poetryisnotdead #poetrycommunity #edwardleepoetry #poetryblogger #writerscommunity #spilledink #wordsofwisdom #writer #stars

You walk by these tiny beautiful flowers that will only last for a little while.

Uranium is useful fuel and we should consider saving enough for when the earth needs to deorbit the ailing sun and transit perilous space to bring life as we know it to a different star.

Monochrome Geometry A line of pure design That mocks the careful plan Escapes the board's confine. Zebra, negative space, A mirage in the dust, Moves with a knowing grace. #poem #poemoftheday #poetry #wildlife #animal #photooftheday #Photography #blueskyphoto #photo #zebra #blueskypoetry

“There is no pain for one who loves.” A poem by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, translated by Alan S. Trueblood.

Libraries, closing late The lights drop and it's like an Operation Sequence of sounds And a silence #poem

A hundred glances per hour Eyes meeting eyes, meeting eyes A dozen relationships, sitting here Everyone in glances It's a kind of puissance, glances A single look can change a day Imagine what a word would do

'healthcare not warfare' my sign read -- thunder within my body of hurt #DailyHaikuPrompt (thunder) #haiku (yes, I made it along with millions of others, despite my current immune system flare)

I’m out here now on the roof. Look! I had to get nearer the sky, For the city was too full of rooms And I can’t be content with a window… —Margaret Tait, “A Poem for a Morning” from Margaret Tait: poems, stories & writings, @carcanet.bsky.social 2012 #poem #poetry www.carcanet.co.uk/978180017379...

Oh, this poem. From Ada Limón's book, The Hurting Kind: bit.ly/hurtingkind #poem #booksky #writing

Discarding little pieces of a life I don't lead We all shed identities- By little, or all at once Step into a new outfit, a different job, Step into someone new #poetry

Shuffling through old journals Scavenging poems for posting To gardens I've never visited It's springtime after all

Joyce Kilmer

Preservation by Sylvie Baumgartel

I wish I had the skill To draw a heart inside your diary So that all the plans and hopes there Could count on a love That would always be near

#Blueskyrelay #assimilate #poetry She tried to #assimilate, which required a ladder, three spoonfuls of patience, and a diagram no one could explain. To bend to fit she practiced folding elbows learning new alphabets, spine negotiating politely with corners.

What colours does it take to step out of your room?

because I always write a poem when I’m sad 🧵🪡

From @katejbaer.bsky.social's book, And Yet. Get it here: bit.ly/baerandyet #poem #booksky #writing

Ernst Meister, trs. Graham Foust & Samuel Frederick

The manager of the Italian restaurant had fired Jeff for being a dopehead, and now they needed a new #saucer. #vss365

Highly monitored spaces Cameras on the walls Cross-referencing our lives Did it catch that nanosecond pause When our eyes locked, and know That our hearts were beating together?

How a hand, hard from traveling Holds the glass, her lips and breath // A torch in the other

Cologne of dead deer flies Dapple of midsummer forest Waawaashkeshi And so I use something that isn't mine Following ancestors tracks

Somehow it's Sunday again, somehow August. Writing is a winged thing flitting about in the late afternoon sun and I am trying to be still enough for it to land on me. Happy #smallpoemsunday. @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

Leap by Joy Sullivan

A new verse from yours truly @petrock.bsky.social: THE NEW C̶O̶L̶O̶S̶S̶US Give me your ̶t̶i̶r̶e̶d̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶p̶o̶o̶r̶,̶ ̶Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶h̶u̶d̶d̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶s̶s̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶e̶a̶r̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶r̶e̶a̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶,̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶r̶e̶t̶c̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶r̶e̶f̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶t̶e̶e̶m̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶r̶e̶.̶ ̶S̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶s̶e̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶m̶e̶l̶e̶s̶s̶,̶ ̶t̶e̶m̶p̶e̶s̶t̶-̶t̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶m̶e̶,̶ ̶I̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶t̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶l̶a̶m̶p̶ ̶b̶e̶s̶i̶d̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ golde̶n̶ ̶d̶o̶o̶r̶ — petro c. k.

Something to apologize for and correct. Lucky how words are like that - strange how you can just take back a feeling and apologize, pretending, "I was never like that".

Remember the story about the rabbit, who could change into a rusty nail, and nobody would notice them? But, then, it was difficult to change back.

sky-full and true— a small spot of quiet in every shade of blue feather-soft and free as a bird's heart should be

From Rita Dove's Collected Poems: bookshop.org/a/862/9780393354935 #poem #books #writing

How old is a tree? Blade of a dandelion leaf Energy comes from the sun

Patrick Lane, Salt Burner

They found out that the pen was mightier than the sword when they invented types of writing that could kill people.

If you should let your shadow fall And break her subtle focus

By Wendy Cope

Animals murdered Heavenly melt in your mouth Life and death pleasure

By Joy Kogawa

I’m trying to look at me Through your beautiful eyes And I am more blind Than I ever was Maybe your rose tinted glasses Are the wrong size #poetry