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@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 4:22 AM

Here's today's #poem!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@gumantia.researchers.blue Sep 27, 2026, 2:22 AM

Under the full moon, our memories glow,
Like silver dreams from long ago.
The night still whispers your name to me,
Beneath the moonlight, where we used to be.
#micropoetry #fullmoon #paintbywords #skypoets

@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 27, 2026, 12:56 AM

Wanna read a #poem I wrote earlier today? Take a look!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 7:14 PM

Check out the #poem I wrote this morning!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@rock-rex.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 7:04 PM

Three poems from "The Stations of the Cross" (part of "The Sockets of Golgotha" [1978]-79).

#poem #poetry #skypoets #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #thestationsofthecross

I. He is condemned to death

There is a hill to climb. He knows it,
sees an endlessness revolving
to a future that he’d thought he wasn’t sure of.
He can feel its repetitions. Its smoothness
is unmeasurable, featureless.

He’d arranged to meet her in a restaurant.
The place was crowded, and he had to share
a table in the middle of the room.
When at last she entered, out of breath
and eager to apologise,
the restaurant had emptied, and he sat
exposed and stranded.
“You picked a funny place to sit”, she said.

Did he feel it then? rippled
in the finger-bowl he used to clean the grease
away? Or later on — the slow necessity
that smothered him, that hugged
his will, insisting on the journey that
he had to take anyway.
(“You have to take
it anyway”, she’d said; “why not start now?”
“Nothing’s fated”, he’d replied, “necessity’s
a fiction that we use to make excuses.”)

Waiters in the restaurant were smiling,
as though he’d missed a joke they’d seen
long since. Perhaps he played the fool,
but he was damned if he’d admit it.
Frankly, it attracted him.
You can say he fell; he leapt.

II. He is made to bear his cross

Across a greater or a smaller distance,
glances — and he can’t be sure
that a connection’s made; he can’t know
if the distance has been lessened
by the glance.

There is a line formed across this distance.
Between the two points in his mind
the line is made (almost) tangible; almost
he can pull on it, almost
reeling in another mind.
It’s not the distance makes him fail,
but it’s the lack of colour on the way. Sadly
the greyness persists even along this way.

Catching, however, in one hand
(between finger and thumb)
the tip of balance, and
holding it steady and secure, he can act
with a freedom not normally his — he smiles
slightly, lets his body settle
and relax a little.
Wood. The table’s scarred
by years of use, the room with knots
of people talking; he just hears the nearest
of them, and
reluctantly
loosens his grip on the restaurant’s balance.
He falls over slowly into a fluid memory,
letting the smallest of his thoughts surface;
floating on his back,
supporting a weight
he could not identify.
And awoke.

III. His first fall under the cross

But there is snow here,
and the black night concrete glistens
where it is exposed.
Somewhere on the empty length
of platform there’s a lamp —
down at the end there, by the driver’s cab,
just where the platform dips
to meet the gravelled space between the lines.
The whiteness of unmelted snow
reflects the small lamp burning,
picking out the platform as it slopes
to where the chips of stone
lie black between the sleepers.
He is cold here, in the gap
between departure and arrival,
and the one lamp at the railway station’s end
does little more than emphasise the way
the platform dips down in an even ramp,
and how the black wet concrete
is eroded by the snow, becoming
gravel where the sleepers mark
the merging of the slope.
His beard and moustache brittle
with his frosted breath, his tears unfrozen,
standing here alone,
the inter-city train departed, waiting on an
empty platform where the only lamp’s
too far and dim, he stamps his feet,
his breath a cloud, alone and lonely,
drawn to the darkness where
the platform plummets, where the sleepers
lie on beds of stone, of little chips
of black and glistening gravel,
and the snow white in the crevices.

@poetkatiratejeda.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 6:55 PM

Freedom for all…

#liberty #freedom #poem #poet #poetry
#WritersofSky #SkyPoets
#BlueSkyRelay
#FreeVerse
#Resist #Art #BookSky

@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 3:33 PM

#New #poem up today! Enjoy!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 1:52 AM

Here's the #poem I wrote earlier today!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@poetkatiratejeda.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 12:09 AM

Your path…

#lovepoem #poet #poet #poetry #lovepoetry
#WritersofSky #SkyPoets
#BlueSkyRelay
#FreeVerse
#Resist #Art #BookSky
#Wellness #Selfcare

@rock-rex.bsky.social Sep 25, 2026, 8:03 PM

"The Haunted Book"

from "Ghost Webs" (2022, Calliope Script).

#poem #poetry #skypoets #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #ghostwebs #hauntings #calliopescript

@poetkatiratejeda.bsky.social Sep 25, 2026, 7:20 PM

Of poetry and poets and shackles…

#poem #poetry #poet #beinghuman #speakout #speakup
#WritersofSky #SkyPoets
#BlueSkyRelay
#FreeVerse
#Resist #Art #BookSky
#Wellness #Selfcare

@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 25, 2026, 6:51 PM

#New #Poem up today! Have a look.

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@lagahoo.bsky.social Sep 25, 2026, 11:07 AM

Sweet lies will ferment.
And we shall reckon with the
Liquor, we’ve produced.

#HaikuFeels #vss365 #HaikuSky #Poetry #MicroPoetry #PoetryCommunity #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BlueSkyPoets #WriteSky #Poem #SkyPoets #HaikuCommunity #MusicSky

@lagahoo.bsky.social Sep 25, 2026, 11:06 AM

Hesitant hearts shall
Reckon with life’s misgivings
Behind salty eyes

#Emoetry #vss365 #Haiku #HaikuSky #Poetry #MicroPoetry #PoetryCommunity #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BlueSkyPoets #WriteSky #Poem #SkyPoets #HaikuCommunity #MusicSky

@rock-rex.bsky.social Sep 24, 2026, 8:05 PM

"Dark Journey" (2018).

#poem #poetry #skypoets #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity

sliding snail-like
into Birmingham — pale grey sky
a mist of fine rain
up above the railway
red-brick buildings, gambrel-roofed
loom blankly
and the city has the baffled air
of waiting
without hope

@poetkatiratejeda.bsky.social Sep 24, 2026, 5:52 PM

My favored one…

#autumn #fall #poem #poet #poetry
#WritersofSky #SkyPoets
#BlueSkyRelay
#FreeVerse
#Resist #Art #BookSky
#Wellness #Selfcare

@poetkatiratejeda.bsky.social Sep 24, 2026, 1:40 AM

Speak up…

#poet #poem #poetry
#WritersofSky #SkyPoets
#BlueSkyRelay
#FreeVerse
#Resist #Art #BookSky
#Wellness #Selfcare
#MentalHealthAwareness

@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 23, 2026, 11:10 PM

Fighting a #migraine so no new #poem today. But here's a poem I wrote a couple days ago. Enjoy!

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@wordwitchlife.bsky.social Sep 23, 2026, 8:24 PM

Have a look at a previous #poem I wrote.

#amwriting #writingcommunity #poetsofbluesky #skypoets #chronicillness #mentalhealth #writersofbluesky #bskypoets #blueskypoetry #writersky

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@rock-rex.bsky.social Sep 23, 2026, 7:47 PM

"Rural Retreat".

#poem #poetry #skypoets #blueskypoets #poetsofbluesky #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity

The sun is covered intermittently
by thin and anxious cirrus clouds
borne westward by the late September breeze.
Their chill unease communicates itself
to jackdaws wheeling round the tower,
staccato calls rebounding from
the limestone that impending dusk
has turned from gold to bone.

Medlars await the first frost’s bletting touch,
and sedum seedheads shake
as one late-feeding greenfinch forages.
The air is sweet with woodsmoke,
and a pair of tawny owls swap calls
across the valley, twit to woo.