One Poem Only

By Maggie DeversSociety & Culture Arts Books Performing Arts

One Poem Only episodes

June 03Dear Unknown Ancestor Naked in the Woods by Danielle Eleanor La Valle after Chris Kads | One Poem After
One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. This month, One Poem Only presents One Poem After, featuring selected poems written in response to the poems shared during National Poetry Month. Each piece began as a conversation with another poem and became something entirely its own. Today’s poem is Dear Unknown Ancestor Naked in the Woods by Danielle Eleanor La Valle after Dear Personal Care Department God by Chris Kads. Read the full poems on Substack.
More from Danielle Eleanor Lavalle ↓
@danielleeleanorlavalle on Instagram

More from Chris Kads ↓
@chris_kads on Instagram
She is publisher and curator of the anthology, An Apple a Day

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us when we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, in print, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
4 min
June 02Bones by Toni Young after Ella B. Winters | One Poem After
One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. This month, One Poem Only presents One Poem After, featuring selected poems written in response to the poems shared during National Poetry Month. Each piece began as a conversation with another poem and became something entirely its own. Today’s poem is Bones by Toni Young after Ugly Bones by Ella B. Winters. Read the full poems on Substack.
More from Toni Young ↓
@toniyoungpoems on Instagram
@toniyoungpoems on Substack

More from Ella B. Winters ↓
@ella.b.winters on Instagram
@ellabwinters on Substack

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Feed yourself poetry every day.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us after we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, a book, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min
June 01Taco Bell under a Full Moon by Kris Aziz after GiGi | One Poem After
One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. This month, One Poem Only presents One Poem After, featuring selected poems written in response to the poems shared during National Poetry Month. Each piece began as a conversation with another poem and became something entirely its own. Today’s poem is Taco Bell under a Full Moon by Kris Aziz after When the Moon is Full by GiGi. Read the full poems on Substack.
More from Kris Aziz ↓
@tacobellkris on Instagram
@tacobellkris on Substack

More from GiGi ↓
@thegigirising on Threads
@thematriarchyrising on Substack
Her books, The Scorpio Rising and The Marilyn Rising: Letters to Marilyn
She has a new book coming soon The California Rising: Poems from San Francisco to LA

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us after we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, a book, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min
May 31YOLO by Maggie Devers & Weekly Poetry Recap | One Poem More
One Poem More gathers all of this week’s poems from One Poem Only—an unhurried chance to listen again, or catch what you missed.
This week’s poems
Life Is The Backside of Embroidery by Aasfa Siddiqui
Unnamed Season by Jules Travers
“Hija de tu madre.” by Elisha Fernandez
Lilies by Madilyn Lopez
Rash by Viviana Abnur
Sparrowfall by Arch Budzar

Plus one new one to carry us into the week ahead
YOLOMaggie DeversThank god I’m a millennial and learnedYOLOAt a pivotal period in my life.Who thought I’d pull her out again forWWIII,But there you are—There we are:OnlyLivingOnceUnless we’re considering reincarnation—Which I do most days—Even those I only live once.But I think it meansWe only get this moment once(That we conceptually understand—)We probably live many moments at onceAnd maybe that’s why WWIII feels familiarAnd why grass smells like homeAnd getting smacked in the face by a wave feels like a baptismWaves YOLO—They live and dieWith the tug of the moon.Icarus YOLOed the sunrise,And I feel like he really got it.So I sit in the sun and feel waxMelting down my shoulder bladesAs I stare at the oceanAnd tell my daughter the history of YOLO.
More from Maggie Devers ↓
My debut poetry collection, For My Daughter, available as an audiobook.
Purchase a copy of For My Daughter or get one free by subscribing to the podcast: One Poem Only on Patreon
Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

More from this week’s poets
Find links to each poet’s work, books, and social accounts in the show notes for the individual episodes.
Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry is better when it’s lived with. Thank you for listening.
13 min
May 30Sparrowfall by Arch Budzar | One Poem Only
One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.
SparrowfallArch BudzarWhile maybe I wasn’t the smartestOr the strongestI never thought unkindly of youAnd Ialways sang my songAnd ISaw you as an angelUp until the very end.
More from Arch Budzar ↓
@archbudzar on Instagram
You can find more information about their life and work, as well as prints of their art at www.archbudzar.com

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry shows us what we need. Thank you for being part of the experience.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us when we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, in print, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
2 min
May 29Rash by Viviana Abnur | One Poem Only
One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.
RashViviana AbnurEverything I know about deathI learned the hard waywhen I saw you go by on the stretcherto intensive therapyI was an atheist like you and I only sawa slight and strange bodypass at the speed of lightis it that perhaps we live confusedor we are just light and nothing elsebecause I suddenly knew in an instantthat you were notin that bodythey took you to the Emergency roomlike a war trophythere was a rush for the doctors to arrivethere was a rush to deathfor fleeing the territoryminutes beforeyou asked for a bookminutes before I hugged you and you told meyou are so goodthen the power outage in the hospitalthe door half openand I was spying on you and could seehow they surrounded you with candlesstill alivelike in a Poe storysomeone hugged me and I criedwe lost said the doctorand I knew deathis in a rush dadand in the rush it's sloppybecause something was taken foreverI knew itbut something notin that defeated bodyyou were not in.
More from Viviana Abnur ↓
@cruda.luz on Instagram
Her book, Rash, is available now

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry sustains. Thank you for supporting the podcast.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us after we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, a book, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min
May 28Lilies by Madilyn Lopez | One Poem Only
A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.
LiliesMadilyn Lopezblood gushes from underneath my index fingersunderneath my thumbsmy eyes go white and pin-point blackbloodshot— my artery.my throat seals itself shut like a wooden door stuck in humidity’s clutchi tilt my chin to the popcorn ceilinggasping for air that’s already escapedLilies are my favorite flower by the way.it is late.12:15am exactly.my neck starts to itch where brittle bone holds nostalgic flesh imprintsthe coffee on my wooden-chipped scarred nightstand has gone tepidthen frigidit is late.12:17am exactly.congealed blood gushes from my nose where I have never been hit only walked into steel andconcrete wallsmy tear ducts know no repentance stuck in confession my chest feels liketenmilliontrapdoorsleftunsealedi scratch at the duct tape fastened around my goosebumped body clawing like a ravedrabid wretched animal wretched thingsalivatingfoamingachingteeth baringLilies are my favorite flower by the way.it is late.12:21 exactly.Lilies.Lilies. Lilies. Lilies.Lilies.
More from Madilyn Lopez ↓
@v0guerat on Instagram
@maryshelleysmymother on TikTok
@madilynlo on Substack

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry reminds us what matters. Thank you for listening.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us when we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, in print, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min
May 27“Hija de tu madre.” by Elisha Fernandez | Handpicked Wednesday | One Poem Only
Wednesdays on One Poem Only are Handpicked, a new feature where I go deeper into the poem of the day and discuss what made it stand out to me.
“Hija de tu madre.”Elisha Fernandez“Eres hija de tu madre.”“You are your mother’s daughter,” is a phrase I heard growing up,from strangers,family members,friends,most repeated by my own mother.I wanted to claw myself out of my skinPanicked by the implicationThat I did not belong to myselfI could not crawl above my stationLimited to the constraints and expectations people thrust on me,Like a hermit crab forced to stay in a shell too-small,No room to grow or become my own personKeeping me trapped against the wall, a doll stuck between pavement,yearning to bloomMy achievements, struggles, and experiencesNo longer my doing, the credit stripped awayLoneliness taking over as I stay, rewatching the events of the past twenty-some yearsThrough the lens of someone else’s existenceIt was so unbearableI eventually avoided the topic altogetherIt felt easier to snip the thread we twined, connecting us,so that I could cement my own self, my own roleIn your mind, in mineThe separation frayed us both,But I learned that it was healthier for us to co-existSide by side, free from the harm we imposed on each otherThan to be attached at the hipAnd that time apartGave me the space to see you, truly,To take you down from the pedestal,To get to know you fullyI think I’ve accepted that I am my mother’s daughter,In the sense that it’s true,I inherited her stubbornness and pride,Her love for words and witty sayings,Her craving to be important, the hunger to be accepted,I inherited her precision and wide-eyed curiosityBeyond the superficial, it’s hard to admit that while she birthed me and learned me,she also weaved her own insecurities and doubts into the fabric of my beingShe tried, and failed, to love me in her way, staining me with blood and tears and loathingShe imparted her wisdoms and her wrongdoings,I see the person I could’ve become, had circumstances been differentI may have been born in her image,But I stitched myself into the likeness of what I desiredI became unraveled;A bolt of cloth to gather anewI hemmed the tattered edges, patched up the holes,And threw out the patterns I had always followedSoy hija de mi madre,But can’t I also be my own?Can’t I existWithout relinquishing to the image ofAn identity I don’t claimAnd acknowledgeThat I am also my mother’s daughter,In the sense that I mothered myself
More from Elisha Fernandez ↓
@artistaelisha on Instagram

Watch Handpicked Wednesday
A new feature where I go deeper into the poem of the day and discuss what made it stand out to me. Watch on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure.
Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Two poems. One poet. Let the words keep moving.
4 min
May 26Unnamed Season by Jules Travers | One Poem Only
One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.
Unnamed SeasonJules TraversHe lives in a peaceful territoryof his own,relatively well-defined.In conversation with his selves,he navigates daily weather,rainbows,mirages,sinkholes.Now,can he still live with himself,with you?Your eyes align,two shapes of water join, sun-lit,know themselves reflected.He feels your arms.He broadens,flattensand retreats,enters spaces filled by airand phantom.He waits, he listens.Voices surface.He slips into marrowlit by the gasping mouthsof scattered self-sustaining fires.He fractures.He falls.He pools heavy,turns, raw, smolder.He scratches notesand demolishes boxes of tissues.While you drink your morningcoffee in the next room,he makes his blanketa mourning shroud,he hibernatesin jumps and starts.He heaves open jammed windows,specks of old white paint confetti his hair.Curtains bloom.Now,he perches on the roof.Now,he shows you proudly,with some astonishment,there’s a new row of feathersin his wingspan --pocked with blushesand frowns of color,asymmetrical, but his,a wave of growth unique to your shared ecosystem,brought forthby an unnamed season.
More from Jules Travers ↓
@jules_wordspics on Instagram
You can read more of their writing on their Linktree

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Feed yourself poetry every day.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us after we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, a book, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min
May 25Life Is the Backside of Embroidery by Aasfa Siddiqui | One Poem Only
One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.
Life Is the Backside Of Embroidery by Aasfa SiddiquiAasfa SiddiquiI’ve been thinking about it latelylife feels like the backside of embroidery.All I see are the knots,threads pulling in opposite directions,lines crossing with no pattern,like someone stitched it blindfolded.But thenflip it.Turn it over.And there it is.The picture you never thought was formingflowers blooming where only knots existed,Maybe that’s just my side of the cloth.Maybe God sees the other.The one I’m not allowed to touch yet.The side where these very knotshold the picture together.Maybe heartbreak is just a red threadmeant to shape the outline of something larger.Maybe loneliness is a dark patchthat gives contrast to all the light.Maybe even the useless stitches,the ones we regret,add texture,depth,weight.When the fabric is turned,perhaps at the very end,we’ll see itevery knot holding the shape,every crooked linepart of the symmetry.The mess will finally look like meaning,and the backside will make senseeverything we called chaoswill glow with perfect order.Faithisn’t about seeing the image at all,but walking through the confusion,believing that nothing here is wasted.That even the ugliest loopsare part of a beautyI can’t see from this side.And soI stop trying to untangle everything.I let the threads dangle where they want.I trust that someone’s handsgentler than mineknow what they’re weaving.And if being lost in these tanglestill means I’m stitched into His design,then let me remain hereknotted, confused,but never outside the pattern.So yes,life is the backside of embroidery,and God is the One who sees the picture.We are just the threadsmoving in loops,crossing over one another,wondering why it hurts,never knowing we’ve been part of beautyall along.Until then,we keep living in the knots,trusting the Weaver.Because life, as we know it,is never the front side.It’s the backside
More from Aasfa Siddiqui ↓
@readwithshifa on Instagram
@readwithshifa on Substack

Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us after we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, a book, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
One Poem Only Submissions Form
3 min

About One Poem Only

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A daily reading. A quiet moment. One poem, center stage: just for now, just for you. A one-night-only show, in verse.

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