"Poetry must be read to be poetry. It may be that one reader is all that I deserve. If this is so, I want that reader to be you."

William Saroyan
1939

#poetry #read #1930s #quote #quotes #quotation

Please
Pardon the
Stars inside me,
They can’t help
But burn.

#poetry

Be gentle
In a world
That is
Everything
But.

#poetry

Like the moon,
In my darkness
I am simply
Waiting to be
Born again.

#poetry

They wouldn’t
Tell you
To smile more
If they knew
What it
Costs.

#poetry

He had the
Audacity to be
Shrapnel,
But he couldn’t
Leave a scar.

#poetry

Tell the violence
Of the violets
That I know
How it feels
To scream
Silently.

#poetry

The title is taken from TS Eliot’s The Waste Land - and he took it from The Tempest by Shakespeare …

I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

(From The Waste Land)

#shakespeare #TSEliot #thewasteland #poetry #poem

#haiku by Ash Evan Lippert | Ash is an emerging queer writer from South Carolina. A featured poet at Neologism, their work has appeared or is forthcoming in NOON: journal of the short poem, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Sonic Boom, whiptail: journal of the single-line poem and Heliosparrow, among many others. Their debut chapbook, god of the body, is available through Yavanika Press. Find them on Bluesky (@wanderstruck.blog ) and Instagram (@wanderstruck_haiku ). #poetry #SC #spring

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A #haiku by Ash Evan Lippert reads: spring thunder / voices carry the shadows / from other rooms.Ash is an emerging queer writer from South Carolina. A featured poet at Neologism, their work has appeared or is forthcoming in NOON: journal of the short poem, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Sonic Boom, whiptail: journal of the single-line poem and Heliosparrow, among many others. Their debut chapbook, god of the body, is available through Yavanika Press. Find them on Bluesky (@wanderstruck.blog ) and Instagram (@wanderstruck_haiku ). #poetry #SC #spring

If you stay still
It wont hurt,
But you won’t
Heal.

#poetry

The stars
Show us
The light
We emanate
Will keep traveling
Long after
We’re gone.

#poetry

#cherita by returning contributor, Peter Jastermsky @pjastermsky

The author of 10 books of haiku-based writing, Peter lives among the Joshua trees in So.Cal., USA. He created the popular split sequence form in 2017. Learn more about Peter & his writing at peterjastermsky.com. #nightfall #poetry #haiku #california

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A #cherita by returning contributor, Peter Jastermsky @pjastermsky reads: night falls on the square a circle of friends surrounds the one not moving Barely visible in the black background, a circle of crows surround their fallen friend, in a barren field under a moonless midnight sky. The author of 10 books of haiku-based writing, Peter lives among the Joshua trees in So.Cal., USA. He created the popular split sequence form in 2017. Learn more about Peter & his writing at peterjastermsky.com. #nightfall #poetry #haiku #california

Please
Grant me
The bravery
To be nothing
At all.

#poetry

I am a flower,
I am a sword.
You determine
What greets
You.

#poetry

#haiku / #senryu by long time contributor, Marilyn Ward of Lincolnshire, UK. Find more of her work on Blue Sky @haikupoet.bsky.social #poetry #banana #UK @malward71

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A #haiku / #senryu by long time contributor, Marilyn Ward of Lincolnshire, UK reads, “growing old in the glass bowl bananas ripen.” Find more of her work on Blue Sky @haikupoet.bsky.social #poetry #banana #UK

Let the tears
Of the past
Water the flowers
Of the future.

#poetry

I will not
Abide a
Starless
Night.
There is
Fight in me yet.
Per ardua
Ad Astra.

#poetry

#shahai by Reid Hepworth @reidhepworth | Reid lives in a small cottage in Georgian Bay, Ontario where she spends her time listening to trees, talking to all manners of wildlife and writing short form #poetry. #haiku #photo #water

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In a photo, a body of still water spreads under sunrise (or sunset), dark trees stretching up from the far shore. In the middle of the frame, a single line reads, “lingering dark thoughts I can’t let go.” #shahai by Reid Hepworth @reidhepworth | Reid lives in a small cottage in Georgian Bay, Ontario where she spends her time listening to trees, talking to all manners of wildlife and writing short form #poetry. #haiku #photo #water

Like a rose
That doesn’t know
It has been cut,
Bloom anyway.

#poetry

I want love to
Break my
Borrowed bones,
And lap at the
Light inside them.

#poetry

I had a nice exchange with @Aphelion yesterevening. I like her sparse, short-form poetry…poems that cut to the bone in few words. In appreciation:

/

Her pencil
chisels away
unneeded words
Words like:
Loquaciousness; Prolixity
pile at her feet

When her lathe-turning
is done,
what remains is
a spindle
unadorned
And truth

/

#poetry #poem

We laughed
Mercilessly
Against the
Boundaries of
Our youth,
Both of us
Cursed,
But you
Unto death.

#poetry

@VeroniqueB99 @Felis_Catus_Domesticus

.. not only decades ago ..

My favourite of Arthur Rimbaud:

Hunger
I only find within my bones, A taste for eating earth and stones.
When I feed, I feed on air, Rocks and coals and iron ore.
My hunger, turn. Hunger, feed: A field of bran.
Gather as you can the bright, Poison weed.
Eat the rocks a beggar breaks,
The stones of ancient churches' walls,
Pebbles, children of the flood, Loaves left lying in the mud.

* * *

Beneath the bush a wolf will howl, Spitting bright feathers
From his feast of fowl: Like him, I devour myself.
Waiting to be gathered, Fruits and grasses spend their hours;
The spider spinning in the hedge, Eats only flowers.
Let me sleep! Let me boil, On the altars of Solomon;
Let me soak the rusty soil, And flow into Kendron.

Finally, O reason, O happiness, I cleared from the sky the blue which is darkness, and I lived as a golden spark of this light, Nature. In my delight, I made my face look as comic and as wild as I could:

It is recovered.
What? Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.
O my eternal soul,
Hold fast to desire
In spite of the night
And the day on fire.
You must set yourself free
From the striving of Man
And the applause of the World!
You must fly as you can...
No hope, forever; No _orietur._
Science and patience,
The torment is sure.
The fire within you,
Soft silken embers,
Is our whole duty--
But no one remembers.
It is recovered.
What? Eternity.
In the whirling light
Of the sun in the sea.

I became a fabulous opera. I saw that everyone in the world was doomed to happiness. Action isn't life; it's merely a way of ruining a kind of strength, a means of destroying nerves. Morality is water on the brain. It seemed to me that everyone should have had several other lives as well. This gentleman doesn't know what he's doing; he's an angel. That family is a litter of puppy dogs. With some men, I often talked out loud with a moment from one of their other lives-- that's how I happened to love a pig. Not a single one of the brilliant arguments of madness-- the madness that gets locked up-- did I forget; I could go through them all again, I've got the system down by heart. It affected my health. Terror loomed ahead. I would fall again and again into a heavy sleep, which lasted several days at a time, and when I woke up, my sorrowful dreams continued. I was ripe for fatal harvest, and my weakness led me down dangerous roads to the edge of the world, to the Cimmerian shore, the haven of whirlwinds and darkness. I had to travel, to dissipate the enchantments that crowded my brain. On the sea, which I loved as if it were to wash away my impurity, I watched the compassionate cross arise. I had been damned by the rainbow. Felicity was my doom, my gnawing remorse, my worm. My life would forever be too large to devote to strength and to beauty. Felicity! The deadly sweetness of its sting would wake me at cockcrow-- ad matutinum, at the Christus venit-- in the soberest of cities.

O seasons, O chateaus! Where is the flawless soul?
I learned the magic of Felicity. It enchants us all.
To Felicity, sing life and praise, Whenever Gaul's cock crows.
Now all desire has gone-- It has made my life its own.
That spell has caught heart and soul, And scattered every trial.

O seasons, O chateaus! And, oh, the day it disappears, Will be the day I die.
O seasons, O chateaus! All that is over. Today, I know how to celebrate beauty.

CREDIT Music/Poetry Video:
Music by Hector Zazou & The Sahara Blue Orchestra

* Poetry by Arthur Rimbaud
20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891 / Charleville, Ardennes

* performed by John Cale

Title: HUNGER

#poetry #music #generation #insights #senses #mind

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Music/Poetry Video Music by Hector Zazou & The Sahara Blue Orchestra * Poetry by Arthur Rimbaud 20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891 / Charleville, Ardennes * performed by John Cale Title: HUNGER Thumbnail: The spider spinning in the hedge, Eats only flowers ..

Words are
Sharp as
Scalpels,
Words are
Blunt as
Stone.
Be careful
How you
Wield them.

#poetry

It is bravery
To feel deeply
In a world
Perpetually
Numb.

#poetry

#senryu #monoku by Laurence Stacy. Laurence teaches English & literature courses at Kennesaw State University. He is also the recent coauthor of “Before the Earth: Haiku and Haikai.” In addition to studying poetics, he is a longtime martial artist, and is interested in connections between the disciplines he enjoys. #poetry #haiku #illness

Do not let
Them douse
Your heart full
Of stars with
Their handful
Of dust.

#poetry

Dark matter
Makes up
About
Eighty five
Percent
Of the universe.
All the proof
I need is in
Your eyes.

#poetry

For World Poetry Day:  Inside I'm Screaming

I don't write poetry as a rule, but I penned this six years ago when I was dealing with the loss of my dog. It helped me deal with my emotions.

https://david.shortfiction.online/world-poetry-day-2026

#WorldPoetryDay #poetry #writing

Somber #senryu by Jennifer Gurney. Jennifer lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry is widely published. Two of her poems have won international contests and one was turned into a choral piece. Jennifer has 10 books of poetry. #haiku #colorado #grief #poetry

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somewhere in time my heart floats free unencumbered by grief Somber #senryu by Jennifer Gurney. Jennifer lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry is widely published. Two of her poems have won international contests and one was turned into a choral piece. Jennifer has 10 books of poetry. #haiku #colorado #grief #poetry

#shahai by new contributor, Michelle Farrell. @michellefarrellart Michelle is a mixed media artist & poet living in New Zealand, with a background working in disability, neurodiversity & mental health. Her artworks have found homes internationally, & recently she has been nurturing her creative writing along, with #poems & #haiga published in various journals. #poetry #haiku

There is
A swarm
Of bees
In my chest
That I call
Anger,
And if I open
My mouth
They’ll come
Out in droves
And blacken
The sky.

#poetry

Luminous
Being,
Unlike the
Moon, you
Never needed
The sun
To shine.

#poetry

Swampgas #2 for spring 2026 is out!

Even more art, photography, writing, reviews and previews than before! 36 full color pages.

Free at itch: https://quietmeow.itch.io/swampgas-2-zine

or archive.org:
https://archive.org/details/swampgas-2-digital-v-2-final

Zine conceptualized and assembled by @swampgas -- it features his mad talents, and also the mad talents of @Ambivalena, @photovotary, @Aphelion, @HailsandAles, @alipunk, @ira, @DXMacGuffin, @yourfutureex, and @1001OtherAlbums!

#zine #zines #art #stories #poetry #writing #Swampgas #music #metal #HeavyMetal #DeathMetal #prose #reviews #previews #MusicReviews #MusicPreviews #photography #nature

In today's episode of Living in the Past, we have the recording of "Desiderata". Many (or a few?) will remember singing along with that chorus as it played on the radio back in the day:

You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.

It's good to be reminded of that once in while.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WDL-xgltho

The full text of Max Ehrmann's 1927 work "Desiderata" can be found at https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Desiderata

#1970s #music #poetry

#OTD "in 1812, the first two cantos of Lord Byron‘s poem Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage are published by John Murray in London. Copies sell out in five days, prompting Byron to comment: “I awoke one morning and found myself famous.”"

https://lithub.com/lit-hub-daily-march-20-2026/

"Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage" at PG:

https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5131

#books #literature #poetry

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Prisoner of Chillon - a painting of a man standing next to a cow. Painting by Madox Brown.

“If anyone wants to buy some old empty filing cabinets then get in touch … "

#Liverpool #poetry

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2026/mar/20/university-of-liverpool-acquires-entire-archive-of-poet-roger-mcgough

Entropy
Only increases,
My love.
Adore me
Disordered
Or not at all.

#poetry

Like the
Lyrids,
We burn
Until there
Is nothing
Left.

#poetry

Sometimes excellent poetry appears in the most unlikely of places, something we all should help happen more often. Kristen Darling today posted a lovely and insightful piece on LinkedIn. It begins:

«How to Have the Life You Want

One day, I hope to stop interrogating my peace.
I will stop demanding peace turn out its pockets
and to keep its hands where I can see them.
I will stop inserting anxiety
where I spent a few moments …»

Read the rest here (no account required, do it in an incognito window if LinkedIn's corporateness bugs you):

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/kristen-darling-50921813b_mentalhealthmatters-mentalhealth-activity-7440068320231591936-9x4h/

#poetry #poem #life #philosophy #peace #happiness #contentment #sufficiency #enough #enoughness #anxiety #depression #MentalHealth

#haiku by Lucas Weissenborn @luque_mit_q | Lucas is a researcher, musician, & poet based in #Norway. His haiku & senryū have appeared in many journals, including Science. He was also once unintentionally appointed an expert on squirrels by a university in Russia. #swallows #poetry #spring

Forgive me
For being jealous
Of your ribs
For how they
Cradle your
Heart.

#poetry

Sixteen thousand days
The starlight ached
Across my skin.
We are homesick
For each other.

#poetry

There are
No shadows
Cast without
The presence
Of light.

#poetry

#monoku by returning contributor, Oana Maria Cercel oana_maria_ #poetry #haiku #cherryblossoms #italy