![Banner at the top: the top part of a woman's face, focused on her brown eyes. The rest of her face covered in holi powder, left side purple, left side red
below the poem reads:
She is all
Honey-sweet gratefulness
And pollen-coated buzzing
With words like wisps
Of untamed hair.
The bite of life:
[clamping of your own lip
that swells and stays
a copper-tasting burden
waiting for a moment of
r e c k l e s s n e s s
to burn anew]
Doesn’t change
Her smile
Her smile
H e r s m i l e .
(and hope the world won’t hurt
and when the world hurts
you trust it anyway)
- Carmine Innocence](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:3u75zlsk4jwatoaze6g5idff/bafkreibuiqkzom4wckbbo6gvghkhbbo7plh2p57kfbdfgldbxudkx6nj5m@jpeg)
May 22, 2025 at 10:35 AM
May 15, 2025 at 3:12 PM
May 7, 2025 at 7:17 AM
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
IV of Pentacles (reversed)
Release material possessions
Shift toward generosity
Realizing the futility
Of clinging to
Material
Wealth
Let go
Freedom,
Liberation
Embrace true
Abundance
Connecting
With others
#poetry #dailytarot #tarotreading
Release material possessions
Shift toward generosity
Realizing the futility
Of clinging to
Material
Wealth
Let go
Freedom,
Liberation
Embrace true
Abundance
Connecting
With others
#poetry #dailytarot #tarotreading
April 23, 2025 at 12:26 PM
IV of Pentacles (reversed)
Release material possessions
Shift toward generosity
Realizing the futility
Of clinging to
Material
Wealth
Let go
Freedom,
Liberation
Embrace true
Abundance
Connecting
With others
#poetry #dailytarot #tarotreading
Release material possessions
Shift toward generosity
Realizing the futility
Of clinging to
Material
Wealth
Let go
Freedom,
Liberation
Embrace true
Abundance
Connecting
With others
#poetry #dailytarot #tarotreading
The cure for words (un)spoken
#poetry #poem #writingcommunity #magic #spell #photography #stilllife #art
#poetry #poem #writingcommunity #magic #spell #photography #stilllife #art
April 23, 2025 at 11:40 AM
The cure for words (un)spoken
#poetry #poem #writingcommunity #magic #spell #photography #stilllife #art
#poetry #poem #writingcommunity #magic #spell #photography #stilllife #art
April 18, 2025 at 8:36 AM
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
Here’s a contribution to #PoemsAbout #gutterprayer @alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social
April 18, 2025 at 6:14 AM
Here’s a contribution to #PoemsAbout #gutterprayer @alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
When I say you don’t have to worry about microplastics in your brain I mean that there is much stronger evidence that you should be worrying about other things that you don’t ever think about, like the draining of peatlands for agriculture, and things that you think about all the time, like fascism.
April 13, 2025 at 3:50 PM
When I say you don’t have to worry about microplastics in your brain I mean that there is much stronger evidence that you should be worrying about other things that you don’t ever think about, like the draining of peatlands for agriculture, and things that you think about all the time, like fascism.
April 10, 2025 at 11:17 AM
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
I recognize that spiral
Grab my hand
Let's spiral this way
Instead, past
The cherry groves
Under clouds
Through the brambles
Into a lake
See the swaying algae?
Look at
How the bubbles form
Life
Breathes, you should too
#poetry
Grab my hand
Let's spiral this way
Instead, past
The cherry groves
Under clouds
Through the brambles
Into a lake
See the swaying algae?
Look at
How the bubbles form
Life
Breathes, you should too
#poetry
April 3, 2025 at 7:53 PM
I recognize that spiral
Grab my hand
Let's spiral this way
Instead, past
The cherry groves
Under clouds
Through the brambles
Into a lake
See the swaying algae?
Look at
How the bubbles form
Life
Breathes, you should too
#poetry
Grab my hand
Let's spiral this way
Instead, past
The cherry groves
Under clouds
Through the brambles
Into a lake
See the swaying algae?
Look at
How the bubbles form
Life
Breathes, you should too
#poetry
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
Joanie, my German Shepherd mix and best friend, is battling cancer. This poem is for her—about the sleepless nights, the helplessness, and the love that remains.
#Poem #Poetry #DogLove #MastCellTumor
#Poem #Poetry #DogLove #MastCellTumor
April 3, 2025 at 7:53 PM
Joanie, my German Shepherd mix and best friend, is battling cancer. This poem is for her—about the sleepless nights, the helplessness, and the love that remains.
#Poem #Poetry #DogLove #MastCellTumor
#Poem #Poetry #DogLove #MastCellTumor
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
April 2, 2025 at 5:06 PM
April 3, 2025 at 3:07 PM
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
I met my depression
for a drink.
We discussed
fate
and #inspiration
as our veins warmed.
Drunk, we stumbled
to the graveyard
and mourned
the adolescence
he stole from me.
He apologized
with eyes welling
in stomach acid
and I
forgave him
for he didn't know better.
#poetry
#vss365
for a drink.
We discussed
fate
and #inspiration
as our veins warmed.
Drunk, we stumbled
to the graveyard
and mourned
the adolescence
he stole from me.
He apologized
with eyes welling
in stomach acid
and I
forgave him
for he didn't know better.
#poetry
#vss365
March 24, 2025 at 12:27 PM
I met my depression
for a drink.
We discussed
fate
and #inspiration
as our veins warmed.
Drunk, we stumbled
to the graveyard
and mourned
the adolescence
he stole from me.
He apologized
with eyes welling
in stomach acid
and I
forgave him
for he didn't know better.
#poetry
#vss365
for a drink.
We discussed
fate
and #inspiration
as our veins warmed.
Drunk, we stumbled
to the graveyard
and mourned
the adolescence
he stole from me.
He apologized
with eyes welling
in stomach acid
and I
forgave him
for he didn't know better.
#poetry
#vss365
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
Long before the trees have taken to wearing green again, woodpeckers drum their territory. The sleeping spirits of the wood try to ignore this alarm, but their winter rest is broken. You feel their waking across your psychic skin. Hundreds of eyes opening to watch you as you walk. - #EmilyCBanting
March 24, 2025 at 1:03 PM
Long before the trees have taken to wearing green again, woodpeckers drum their territory. The sleeping spirits of the wood try to ignore this alarm, but their winter rest is broken. You feel their waking across your psychic skin. Hundreds of eyes opening to watch you as you walk. - #EmilyCBanting
Hookland inspired a poem (3/3)
Daffodil gold and young willow green
the lengthening days still hold the unseen
Keep to the path and stay in the fold
For only the living's stories are told
And if I were some creature with a hunger keen
I might not wait until Halloween.
Daffodil gold and young willow green
the lengthening days still hold the unseen
Keep to the path and stay in the fold
For only the living's stories are told
And if I were some creature with a hunger keen
I might not wait until Halloween.
Goodnight from Sara Nunn, nursing her newborn and whispering charms against Faery theft. Goodnight from Jenna Swallow, feeling the crush of ghosts at Hook railway station despite the fact she’s the only one waiting for the milk train to London. Goodnight from Hookland.
March 24, 2025 at 4:13 PM
Hookland inspired a poem (3/3)
Daffodil gold and young willow green
the lengthening days still hold the unseen
Keep to the path and stay in the fold
For only the living's stories are told
And if I were some creature with a hunger keen
I might not wait until Halloween.
Daffodil gold and young willow green
the lengthening days still hold the unseen
Keep to the path and stay in the fold
For only the living's stories are told
And if I were some creature with a hunger keen
I might not wait until Halloween.
Hookland inspired a poem (2/3)
The soil is stiff and the frost can still bite
And the soul within's old though the eyes may be bright
Her skin may feel soft and her call may be sweet
And a rhythm may sneak its way to your feet
But keep to the path and stay in the light.
The soil is stiff and the frost can still bite
And the soul within's old though the eyes may be bright
Her skin may feel soft and her call may be sweet
And a rhythm may sneak its way to your feet
But keep to the path and stay in the light.
Goodnight from Sara Nunn, nursing her newborn and whispering charms against Faery theft. Goodnight from Jenna Swallow, feeling the crush of ghosts at Hook railway station despite the fact she’s the only one waiting for the milk train to London. Goodnight from Hookland.
March 24, 2025 at 4:12 PM
Hookland inspired a poem (2/3)
The soil is stiff and the frost can still bite
And the soul within's old though the eyes may be bright
Her skin may feel soft and her call may be sweet
And a rhythm may sneak its way to your feet
But keep to the path and stay in the light.
The soil is stiff and the frost can still bite
And the soul within's old though the eyes may be bright
Her skin may feel soft and her call may be sweet
And a rhythm may sneak its way to your feet
But keep to the path and stay in the light.
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
Goodnight from Sara Nunn, nursing her newborn and whispering charms against Faery theft. Goodnight from Jenna Swallow, feeling the crush of ghosts at Hook railway station despite the fact she’s the only one waiting for the milk train to London. Goodnight from Hookland.
March 23, 2025 at 10:03 PM
Goodnight from Sara Nunn, nursing her newborn and whispering charms against Faery theft. Goodnight from Jenna Swallow, feeling the crush of ghosts at Hook railway station despite the fact she’s the only one waiting for the milk train to London. Goodnight from Hookland.
hookland inspired a poem:
Young willow green and daffodil gold
And the sun may be warm but the wind is still cold
And though the hawthorn may wear it's bridal white
That sweetness cannot break the night
And the sun is not yet so bold. (1/2)
Young willow green and daffodil gold
And the sun may be warm but the wind is still cold
And though the hawthorn may wear it's bridal white
That sweetness cannot break the night
And the sun is not yet so bold. (1/2)
Goodnight from Sara Nunn, nursing her newborn and whispering charms against Faery theft. Goodnight from Jenna Swallow, feeling the crush of ghosts at Hook railway station despite the fact she’s the only one waiting for the milk train to London. Goodnight from Hookland.
March 24, 2025 at 4:11 PM
hookland inspired a poem:
Young willow green and daffodil gold
And the sun may be warm but the wind is still cold
And though the hawthorn may wear it's bridal white
That sweetness cannot break the night
And the sun is not yet so bold. (1/2)
Young willow green and daffodil gold
And the sun may be warm but the wind is still cold
And though the hawthorn may wear it's bridal white
That sweetness cannot break the night
And the sun is not yet so bold. (1/2)
Reposted by WordsbyFulcrum
A poem I wrote for the first day of spring:
The snow melts from a tree branch
Someday soon it will be a cloud
And the rain will fall on new leaves
There is spring in winter,
And winter in spring
Take heart
#poetry
#mindfulness
#photography
The snow melts from a tree branch
Someday soon it will be a cloud
And the rain will fall on new leaves
There is spring in winter,
And winter in spring
Take heart
#poetry
#mindfulness
#photography
March 20, 2025 at 12:56 PM
A poem I wrote for the first day of spring:
The snow melts from a tree branch
Someday soon it will be a cloud
And the rain will fall on new leaves
There is spring in winter,
And winter in spring
Take heart
#poetry
#mindfulness
#photography
The snow melts from a tree branch
Someday soon it will be a cloud
And the rain will fall on new leaves
There is spring in winter,
And winter in spring
Take heart
#poetry
#mindfulness
#photography
