Oh this is good.

You might have to distrust your judgment more!

Also, just got this bad boy in the mail! 👍

Wrote a poem today against my better judgment.

#smallpoemsunday Matthew McBride

SENTENCE It's as if you'd woken in a locked cell and found in your pocket a slip of paper, and on it a single sentence in a language you don't know. And you'd be sure this sentence was the key to your life. Also to this cell. And you'd spend years trying to decipher the sentence, until finally you'd understand it. But after a while you'd realize you got it wrong, and the sentence meant something else entirely. And so you'd have two sentences. Then three, and four, and ten, until you'd created a new language. And in that language you'd write the novel of your life. And once you'd reached old age you'd notice the door of the cell was open. You'd go out into the world. You'd walk the length and breadth of it, until in the shade of a massive tree you'd yearn for that one single sentence in a language you don't know. --Tadeusz Dąbrowski (Translated, from the Polish, by Antonia Lloyd-Jones.)

This

Dalton Day

@tinyghosthands.bsky.social

Autocomplete challenge put in

This is just to say

I have

And then autocomplete 12 short lines

... it's a little confused, but it's got the spirit.

Used to be a good way to get discovered, maybe six years ago, when it was more of a pictures app. Now it's a TikTok clone, video heavy and memes running in syndication.

Linh Dinh from Borderless Bodies. #poetry

My god what a poem.

From Mahogany L. Browne's book, Chrome Valley: bookshop.org/a/862/9781324092278

#poem #booksky #writing

Sometimes I get the feeling that the term "blue-black" is to poets what "limn" is to Michiko Kakutani. It's kind of a big turn off, lol.

Static The body contains little echo or lightning. I am not an island, says the woman without a face, but probably a clock, or an anvil. Everything present is struck exactly once. You keep your hands caged to teach them a lesson. Everything absent increases our risk.

Stefanie Kirby 💙

in Ocean State Review

Happy #smallpoemsunday!

@msstefaniekirby.bsky.social
@tomsnarsky.bsky.social

Poem up this week with incredible voice and such lovely, striking imagery. Take a seat, hug a pillow if you need to, and enjoy "Closure" by Ashley Varela

Link: dishsoap-quarterly.com/3-10-26

It's difficult to ignore a Falck recommendation. Pre-ordered!

Drop an album that was important to you when you were nineteen.

In Shallow Seas We Sail by Emery. Emery (particularly early on) right up there with Anberlin as having an evergreen discography.

Lost's "lowest point? . . . a maligned episode dedicated to explaining the significance of Jack Shepard’s tattoos".

Dark Ties is the Yakuza equivalent. "It’s content for the sake of content . . . And as fate would have it, Dark Ties explains the significance of Mine’s tattoos, too".

The fact that I haven't done a playthrough of this game in, like, ten years but immediately remembered *exactly* what you were talking about.

50 years after its release, Martin Scorsese and Robert De Deniro's iconic noir thriller transcends its own legacy Martin Scorsese's portrait of urban discomfort and loneliness lingered long after New York cleaned up

Martin Scorsese's portrait of urban discomfort and loneliness lingered long after New York cleaned up

@jeffgerstmann.com

Ask the moon.
Ask what it has witnessed.

- Linda Pastan, "Why Are Your Poems so Dark?"

What was so pivotal about de-aging them? Bruce Willis and Argyle weren't de-aged in the Die Hard Battery commercial lol.

Happy #smallpoemsunday and a farewell to January with poet Daniel Simko

January
I want to lie down with the snow.
I want the wilf lilies to break their silence.

Really, Really Well It rained. It was raining. We waited inside the paint cans. Your paint can was sundrop. My paint can was gun. The wind was standing by the pantry. Eyeing the eyeglasses. Looking deeply into the seasoning beside the giant mugs of coffee. The coins and the fake teeth and the cheese whiz were not ours. I wanted to tell you first, how I'm sending a message to the chili committee. It will make everything okay. Once it's sent, we'll be doing really well for ourselves. Really, really well. We wait for our paintings to dry. Our paintings are made of stray cattle. Our paintings are made of glass. When the time comes, you add, the sea will no longer sing. I gather my things and read by the pool. Life is cruel yet my arms still work.

my poem in @somewordslit.bsky.social

Richard Siken in the underside of language after his stroke. Making do with the language of the underside.

Yardstick

I was heavy. I was bricks. Above the bed, the ceiling and the stars. Below the bed the floor, the earth, then out the other side and stars. I fell in all directions.

The Quiet Car My heart surgery was going well, the train conductor told me. He said, be aware of your surroundings. I told him not to worry, but when I looked around me, I wasn't so sure. Who were these other patients in the car? And where the hell did all of their hearts go? -Elena Zhang

Happy to have two small poems in the beautiful new volume of @petrichorlit.bsky.social! Here’s one:

petrichormag.com/29-pebbles-v...

Book cover in blue with yellow type.

Another Death Poem It's everywhere I look: leaf fall, roadkill, sleeping with swords. To sleep with swords means a dive beneath danger, lying still, camouflaged like a bug. Statued like a rabbit, let the threat move first. Time will tell what it tells; you can't count on that either. Hard ground's a fabric woven all through with lies that truth outlasts. It's trust that or go with the lies wholly? Navigate rust and decay. But who's who? Cling to the whole fabric, pick and discard. Impossible. Necessary. Not a trap. Choose just a few lies for seasoning. Bee stings. Birdsong. Foothold.

#Poetry helps. If you're in need of some fresh poems, maybe you'd like a signed copy of *Becoming Altar*. DM if interested. I cover postage; you pay only the cover price.

The emotional significance of objects sends ripples through our lives, which is why this is often my final poem when I give a reading.

It's taken from my second full collection, Whatever You Don't, Just Don't. If you fancy a signed copy, drop me a DM and I'll sort one out for you...

Real Life Listen to Real Life by Ex Friends #np on #SoundCloud

And there's the people who will hurt you, and get hurt in return / And the people who do anything for you, who you casually spurn / And it goes around, and comes around in turn. #punk #punkrock

soundcloud.com/exfriends/re...

Fingers crossed ... a part of me recoils at Sleeping Dogs being described as a "cult classic"; it has always deserved a lot more eyeballs than that implies.