#poet — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #poet, aggregated by home.social.
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On se sort les doigts de la canicule (et du reste) et voilà la maquette du n°85 sur le feu (et pas au feu !), un numéro spécial, très précieux pour moi, qui accueille des auteur.ices amérindien.nes, un numéro réalisé en collaboration avec la traductrice et poète Béatrice Machet. Vous pouvez d'ores et déjà réserver ce numéro ou mieux, vous abonner !
#revuenouveauxdelits #poesie #poete #poet #poesieamérindienne #nativeamerican #revueLittéraire #nativeamericanpoets #nativeamericanwriters
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The Jaime David Podcast: Episode 24 is out!
Episode 24 of The Jaime David Podcast is out now! Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/79MRK3mJ6GWK7TbJ1cn7x9?si=3e8cc53c9b924fd7 -
The Jaime David Podcast: Episode 24 is out!
Episode 24 of The Jaime David Podcast is out now! Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/79MRK3mJ6GWK7TbJ1cn7x9?si=3e8cc53c9b924fd7 -
#OnThisDay September 11 attacks (2001) took place against the United States killing 2,996 people, injured over 6,000 others.
Birth Anniversary of D. H. Lawrence (1885) - English #Writer and #Poet.
Happy Birthday Hiroshi Amano (1960) - Nobel Prize winner and one of the inventors of blue light-emitting diodes.
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@solroots.bsky.social Poetry nights are the best nights. (photo: Loren Marsden)
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#yeg #poet #poetry #yegwriter #PoetryInMotion -
new visceral poem about headaches or maybe schizophrenia or maybe stress or maybe something entirely occult and unknown... figure it out yourself...
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new visceral poem about headaches or maybe schizophrenia or maybe stress or maybe something entirely occult and unknown... figure it out yourself...
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new visceral poem about headaches or maybe schizophrenia or maybe stress or maybe something entirely occult and unknown... figure it out yourself...
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new visceral poem about headaches or maybe schizophrenia or maybe stress or maybe something entirely occult and unknown... figure it out yourself...
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new visceral poem about headaches or maybe schizophrenia or maybe stress or maybe something entirely occult and unknown... figure it out yourself...
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Losing faith in Humanity Is A Glimpse of Hope – Carolina Maria de Jesus
collecting what is only left outside doorsteps was kept hidden; hidden in the tongue, rather feel sensation burns of a pen then echoing voice punished because it sounds the same as shattering glasses in parties. avoiding eyes on you, whilst everyone making sure glass of wine escape the spill. Parties travel the streets full of laughter, fill Saturdays air, meanwhile wails echos in the background After knowing humanityits perversities its ambitionsI have grown olderand losingthe […] -
From the front lines of a much-splintered #feminist movement, #RobinMorgan gave voice to #women as a #poet, #journalist, #novelist, #memoirist, #agitator & #iconoclast. She came of age in the civil rights & anti-Vietnam War movements, but along with other young women of the new left, she found those movements dominated by men, &, in particular, men who wanted to keep women as second-class citizens.
“We were tired of making coffee & not policy,” she told The Guardian in 2006.
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In the Deep: A Poem About Jellyfish, Memory, and Darkness
It was an old memory.
In Norway, with unrestrained daylight,
and slugs horned and black, wiggling out of the stalks
of my great aunt’s garden.
Behind her lemon house, with leafy siding,
waxy with uncensored sunlight.We’re on the sea for lunch, it is black, fathomless,
the inky water clinging to the cliffs.
On a patio, the wind is flag-tight, whipping,
a sightless electric current howling.
The smell is herring, crackers, beer, and cigarette smoke
I’m eight-years-old, eating french fries with mayo.Our hosts promised me jellyfish.
“Give it about an hour, they
come up to feed, they’re down deep.”
We wait, the sun a muddy pearl.
There are slivers of chittering dolphins,
slicing and dancing through the whitecaps.Then, they arrive.
Rising, slowly, a time-lapse firework
of living lace and fire, bloomed from a perfect abyss.
Those halos ascending
an endless rack of bioluminescent antlers
threaded into themselves in pulses.I watched over the rail.
The seagulls cackled. The waves banged.
More, a herd, a cluster, a squadron of coalescing fabric.
Shards of the underworld sun blossoming upwards.
A true kaleidoscope crown spiking
the gloom for all these floating kings and queens.Now, that evening by the bay
is almost lost against my small life
and its own vast ocean of dark moments.
But, I’m still here
remembering with teary eyes
how those perfect starswere forged in the crushing darkness.
#blogging #books #norway #patrickWMarsh #poems #poet #Poetry #poetryCommunity #reading #travel #writing #writingPoetry -
5 Poems by Neha Singh Soni
Soulmates
My heart whispers
the whispers of your heart
A steady rhythm
a love song from the start.A slow beat,
a gasp, conveys
ur love to me
in countless waysA faster lub-dub,
when you’re near,
echoes a thrill,
so soft, so clear…the whispers, the pulses,
the heart strings
tied together
as we exhange rings~~
Beats per minute
the silence between two
heartbeats—
the pause
a void
carved by a black holewill the heart beat again?
it did—
A tremble…then a thud
the cosmos stirredthe heartbeat between two
silences,
the pulse
a lub-dub of stars
echoing through emptinessa gasp of fresh air
the realisation of life—
Will the silence
return again?~~
Bag of dreams
I carry a bag of dreams
that seems light
to a passerby—
the way stars seem
to an onlooker:
weightless,
minuscule.
But in truth
they are massive—
scorching,
beyond reach.
That is what
my bag of dreams
is like—
light
as a star.~~
Petrichor
Poetry to me is like
rain is to EarthI am a dry barren land
craving poetic rain
when suddenly cloudy thoughts begin to float all around.I wait calmly
as my sky fills with
grey hues of reflection.A slow breeze
tickles my insides
becoming a raging thunderstorm.Soon it starts drizzling
a word or two,
gradually swelling into
a heavy shower of sentences, stanzas,
rhymed and unrhymed
gradually settling as
sonnets & free verse.and then there the calm
after the rain
when all I am left with is
petrichor of poetry.~~
‘S’ for Solitude
It’s the solitude
where I belong
And no, it is
not loneliness,
just the solitude
for I am a PoetI have to breathe the silence
dissolved in the air
that envelops me,
becoming a shield
between the world and meThis solitude
secretly suffuses
all its warmth into my soul
and I wait in its entiretyas silence gently
metamorphoses
into syllables
into sentences
into poetryIt’s the solitude
where I belong,
not the separation,
isolation
just solitude
for I am a Poet
and
for a poet
solitude is bliss…Copyright © 2026 Neha Singh Soni
#dreams #love #poet #rain #writing
All Rights Reserved -
Folio Fall is here! If you are bookish, reader and/or a writer we would love to have you!
discord.gg/kgp7dp8RJt
#bookishchallenge #zwp #zapwhampow #reader #writer #poet -
It says a lot about how talented Walt Whitman was, my favorite poet of all time and the biggest influence on my own poetry, that he could basically wear how queer he was on his sleeve and still be celebrated by the early 20th century as one of the all-time American greats. Even in a time when people were more "innocent" it isn't at all hard to read between the lines of his work but it is so strong many just didn't care.
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Where The Wind Brought Us
We didn't so much seek each other out as arrive at the same place and time, two lives the wind had deposited there. We didn't anchor each other. We learned to lean into the same wind.https://thetigressawakes.wordpress.com/2026/08/31/where-the-wind-brought-us/
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Where Do We go When Feeling Lost – Edouard Glissant
In the middle of no where, in an empty colourless room, transparent too. A bland space. Some may find comfort here, no expectations has been really made, floating above seas you can see through yourself, nothing is felt just as the room, it void of oneself. The idea of clarity can leave people on the edge, when a mirror become a window to see behind the walls, does it make what you see clear? Or A seamless mirror ripples into the sea, pulls your body in, turning weightless, empty as bottle […]https://rhizomeatlas.wordpress.com/2026/08/31/where-do-we-go-when-feeling-lost-edouard-glissant/
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Sonnet No. 49
Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Call’d to that audit by advis'd respects;
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reasons find of settled gravity,—
Against that time do I ensconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love I can allege no cause.by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
#Poet #Poetry #ShakespeareSonnet #ShakespeareSonnets #SonnetNo49 #WilliamShakespeare -
Poet | Performer | Kulturpädagoge | Mann aus Männern | Male Model
#crauss #poet #performer #kulturpädagoge
#malemodel #mannausmännern -
Poemas de Rolando Enrique Rosales Murga.
#literature #poetry
#poet
#GOTHIC #KINDLE #amazonkindle
#literatura #libros #gothic #Kindle #kindle #explorepage -
Madness is a sign of Sanity – Bessi Head
The first thing we associate with madness is someone who has dissociated with reality, no longer walking on the thin line of normality, instead is tangled by it, fallen into a different state, looking above where they fell is people walking on the thin line of normality, pacing, running, balancing and rest are just falling. Others are hanging by the thread, dangling by the knees, whilst others use all there strengths to go above the surface, to gasp fresh air where your lungs can breathe, […]https://rhizomeatlas.wordpress.com/2026/08/27/madness-is-a-sign-of-sanity-bessi-head/
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Eating out: When prose becomes poetry
Glenwood Bakery Morningside Where: 50 Florida Road, Morningside Open: Monday to Friday 6am to 9pm, Saturday and Sunday 6am to…
#dining #cooking #diet #food #MediterraneanCuisine #50floridaroad #bill #cape #cobb #english #glenwoodbakerymorningside #Italian #kassler #madeleine #mains #margherita #Mediterranean #mediterraneancuisine #MiddleEastern #morningside #Parmesan #poet #vivek
https://www.diningandcooking.com/2741764/eating-out-when-prose-becomes-poetry/ -
Eating out: When prose becomes poetry https://www.diningandcooking.com/2741764/eating-out-when-prose-becomes-poetry/ #50FloridaRoad #bill #cape #cobb #english #GlenwoodBakeryMorningside #Italian #kassler #madeleine #mains #margherita #Mediterranean #MediterraneanCuisine #MiddleEastern #morningside #Parmesan #poet #vivek
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Deafening Silence
Currently people surround
Yet I feel alone.
So much sound,
But my voice is though an ocean thrown a stone.Lonely but not in retreat,
Music yet I do not dance.
I look pretty neat,
Yet do not feel engaged in your trance.So alone,
Imagine if I'd be buried dead
Left rotting no thone,
And words all said.(Made a fucking house of cards btw too)
