Grilled Cheese

ExploreLog inSign up
Terms of UsePrivacy PolicyCommunity StandardsHelpGet the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-13 06:05:14 EDT

Explore

PostsPeople
LatestRanked
@johnbevo.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 1:44 PM

For Indigenous Peoples’ Day tomorrow:

Not an Echo

By JB
#4Sun #IndigenousPeoplesDay #Poetry #IndigenousPeoples #HaskellIndianNationsUniversity

Poetry broadside titled "Not an Echo," by JB. Poem text: years ago I stood nearby and watched what I thought was tradition. songs carried, gatherings formed, old ways met young lives. I thought I was watching something remembered. I was wrong. I was watching something continued. not an echo of people who were here. the voices were here, the people were here, the future was here, all of it in the present tense. Illustration: a watercolor of a young man in a hooded jacket and backpack standing under a tree at the edge of a campus lawn, watching Indigenous students and elders talk together in golden evening light near a stone university building.
@johnbevo.bsky.socialOct 4, 2026, 1:58 PM

When the Sun lowers its head,

Saturn rises to keep the dark awhile.
Opposite the Sun
By JB
#4Sun #Saturn #Astronomy #NightSky #Thoughts

A vertical illustration of a twilight-to-night landscape with ancient standing stones on a grassy hill. A solitary cloaked figure stands near the stones, facing the horizon. On the left, the Sun is setting in a brilliant orange-red sky. Above and to the right, the sky deepens into stars and the Milky Way, with Saturn glowing high overhead. The image suggests an ancient watcher standing between the fading sunlight and the rising planet. Poem text: Opposite the Sun when Sunday’s Sun
lowers its head
and leaves the western sky, another light
will rise behind us
to keep the dark awhile. Saturn— far beyond
the reach of hands,
yet bright enough
for naked eyes, wearing rings
that slowly turn
toward us again. perhaps the old ones
stood like this too,
stone at their backs,
night in their eyes, watching
what leaves,
watching
what returns. the Sun on one side,
Saturn on the other, and us— for one small night, standing
between the light.
@johnbevo.bsky.socialSep 27, 2026, 4:49 PM

Not everything arrives all at once. Some forms take their time.
The Spark Where Life Begins
By JB
#4Sun #poetry #thoughts #writingcommunity

A vertical poetry broadside on a soft grey parchment background. At the top is a black-and-white abstract image resembling an explosive burst or cosmic impact, with a dark center and pale streaks radiating outward. Below it, in large serif type, is the title: “The Spark Where Life Begins.” Centered beneath is an italic poem about lingering, pulling, twisting, forming, and an awakening spark, ending with the lines “like a thunderclap / life begins.” A small “By JB” signature appears at the bottom.
@johnbevo.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 2:13 PM

For those we remember, those who remember us, and those who stand beside us when memories begin to fade.
World Alzheimer's Day — September 21.
JB
#4Sun #Thoughts #WorldAlzheimersDay #AlzheimersAwareness

World Alzheimer's Day illustration featuring a large purple awareness ribbon and the date September 21. At a sunlit kitchen table, a younger person's hand rests gently over an older person's hand. Purple flowers, handwritten notes, and a coffee mug surround them. The messages read: "Good People Brighter Days," "Same Stories Still Here Always Loved," and "Some memories last forever." At the bottom, the words: "When memory drifts, love still knows the way."
@johnbevo.bsky.socialSep 13, 2026, 2:02 PM

One hand still on the course.

One bend still unseen.
When It’s Over

By JB
#4Sun #poetry #thoughts #writingcommunity

Poetry broadside titled When It’s Over on a pale, softly textured background. At upper right is a muted watercolor-style illustration viewed from the bow of a small wooden boat moving along a calm river at early morning. The river curves into mist and disappears from view, suggesting an uncertain passage ahead.
@johnbevo.bsky.socialSep 6, 2026, 2:58 PM

Ludus Coriovalli • An ancient Roman game survived as lines worn into stone.
The Rules We Left Behind
By JB
#4Sun #poetry #thoughts #writingcommunity

Broadside on warm cream paper. At top, a soft watercolor-style illustration shows the pale, weathered Ludus Coriovalli stone with dark incised game-board lines. Below: “The Rules We Left Behind” / “Ludus Coriovalli …a game of ages past.”