One Poem Only

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.

La Mariposa de FierroChristiane Williams-VigilThe autumn leaves of American Beechflutter and cover her inquilt-like patches of many colors.To warm her through icy yearsand struggles of the 9 to 5.She sings not for those who are entangled in richesbut lullabies those who are suppressed,silenced,and overlooked.The ones who she wishes life willtreat them kind..Blessed is she who opens her heart,and pardons red-haired womenwho can’t help their siren-esque call.Out of a chrysalis of ash,her soul profound in its understanding ofphilanthropy and eternal love.She rises as an iron butterfly,armed with guitars and an endless stream of lyrics.And we will always love her.

More from Christiane Williams-Vigil ↓

• @christyvigilwriter on Instagram
• You can see her latest publications and workshops at her website: christianewilliams-vigil.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.

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

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.

AchingBrittany Searle KempaiahUnexpectedly.There are moments I relish my arms being my arms again.And then,I ache for you.I ache for the way you once fit in the crux of themyour head on my bare chest.I ache for those moments I dreaded your screaming.and the way it seemed to echo with accusations of my failure.I ache for the days I wondered what I had done with my life.and sat by your cot.Begging you to forgive me for wanting to be me again.I ache for your tiny brace I hated.The thin clothes and baggy pantsthat always seemed to draw eyes to us,accusing me of not being enough to heal you.I ache for your bald spot I tried to coverand the tiny milk peoples I feared were a sign of sensitive skin.The fear that your easily marked brown skin would scarand you would blame me for allowing your perfection to be blemished.I ache for your fumbling steps, your bruised head and scraped kneesthat made me fear you were somehow becoming too much like me.I ache for the bottles you wanted late at night.To hold you in the rocking chair and sing you back to sleep,without wishing it away.I ache.because I don’t really remember them.They are fragments and illustrated by ideas of memories.Feelings.Senses.Exhaustion.ButI wasn’t really there.This is what I took from myself.Missing all our worst daysmeant missing all our best.And I will never be able to hold the tiny you again,and love you perfectly,I ache,and I ache.and I ache.

More from Brittany Searle Kempaiah ↓

• @brittanysearlekempaiahwords on Instagram
• She is currently working on three books: Waking Up in Darkness, a memoir about being diagnosed bi-polar while pregnant, Crossstich, a collection of random daily poems; and Travels with Poems, an exploration into types of poetry from around the word through the eyes of parents to busy to travel

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

Sundays on One Poem Only are reserved for the weekly recap, but since we were writing a poem a day with Write After in April, we haven’t had a break for a recap in a month. So today I’m reading a poem that perfectly encapsulates Write After. It is a cento and contains one line from each of the 30 poems shared on One Poem Only during April.

April: A PoemElla B. WintersShe never whispers in my ear, unfurlingto swallow my words, abandon mewhen I most need her,while the past rides shotgunsilent.My mind is a black sand beach. My fingersstop tracing spines. I've stopped turningthe light on. I have climbed to the topof the very last tree, gawkingat the sky turning into a riot of gold.Sadness presses its thumbinto my chest - a cascadeof the most unruly waves,they sparkle in the morning sun.Delayed and denied a day's breath,drums prelude river current tears, drawtogether the wet ravines of skin like a zip.Observing life like Dali from below the waters,cracked asphalt flowers, reachingfor a Mediterranean sun, stand underthe downpour. If I couldunzip my heart from skin, unleashingperfection to fully know me, I'd chooseto embrace the perfect contradiction.My world would be trickling waterin this moss forest, while stars are singingto us from the cosmos - the masterpieceI've waited my life to see. How delicatelythe water ripples;I forgive the fluidity.Let my body be a vessel! I've got enoughwords to feed the both of us.This silence sets me free.

Contains one line from each of the 30 poems shared on the One Poem Only podcast during the April 2026 'Write After' challenge.

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.

Poetry sustains. Thank you for supporting the podcast.

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.

Square SocietyFaye SimpsonIn the land of square people,They live ridged lives,With right angled rooms made to fit their intended occupants only,And the ridged rules silently spoken by every straight line,Bent and broken are often indistinguishable,For the square mind,In this curveless space,Everybody fits into their place.Or so it’d seem,Between the boundaries of 2D,Live creatures like me.Natural plasticity has allowed me to form a false face,A more angular appealing shape,So, I can be a member of this strict society,Otherwise, no such thing is available to me.I bend but I am not broken,I attain and abandon all easily,Square society was not made for shapeless souls like me.My differences have been made disabling,My lack of a true shape is an “issue”Not inherently,No, I quite like me,But square society, has decidedly defined,That I don’t deserve a space.Because no matter how I change my face,My mind, isn’t the right shape.

More from Faye Simpson ↓

• @faye.poetry.prose on Instagram

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

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.

Everlong/EvergreenDan WebberAfter an endless winterthe spring has finally come,a reminder,that all things will passeventually.In defiance, nature remainsguarded by tall treeand howling wind.The beauty of the forestis untarnished.Frostbitten or sun kissedupon doorstep, or far, far awaytravellers and explorersold and neware welcomed inin equal measure.These whispers from the woods call:Come.Sit a spell.Breathe in the good air.Calm mind and soothe body.It’s peaceful here,but never lonely,still but ever-changing,eternal yet new-born,respectful, if respected.It’s time to reconnect.Mother Earthhas waited long enough.She wonders when we will realisethat every day is differentwhen you stop and look up.So, look up.

More from Dan Webber ↓

• @imgenrefluid on Instagram
• His book, Whispers from the Woods, 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

I didn’t miss a day. Thank you for being here. For listening, for sharing, for writing, for championing poetry with me. There’s so much more to come.

I dwell in Possibility –A fairer House than Prose –More numerous of Windows –Superior – for Doors –Of Chambers as the Cedars –Impregnable of eye –And for an everlasting RoofThe Gambrels of the Sky –Of Visitors – the fairest –For Occupation – This –The spreading wide my narrow HandsTo gather Paradise –By Emily Dickinson

There’s something poeticAbout a country eating itself aliveTo appease the gods of private equityWhile stars are singing to us from the cosmos.Children go hungryBut fear not,They trim the fat and the wasteAnd the bloated, seeping fools will realize too lateThat a country without its peopleIs no country at all.There’s something poeticAbout letting it all fall awayAnd giving up the fight,Not because we know we lostBut because the fight is not ours.It never has been.We are free now to create something newFor those who careWill we save the world?No. That is not our task.We will save ourselvesAs the world spins round the sun.By Maggie Devers

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. To 365 and counting.

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

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.

AbstractWC QuinnMy pieces appear askew, but I am no Picassojust a Girl Before a Mirror trying to love myselfdespite the flaws in my reflectionI keep counting my brush strokesgrooming tangles in penance.My tongue’s burden is languageThe She Wolf bellow calls to me; I don’t replymy words, sticky sweet honey,smacking heavy in the roof of my mouthsplatters canvas akin to Pollock.My nightmares covet realityso call me a dream walker; lucid surrealistobserving life like Dali from below the watersbearing witness to The Metamorphosis of Narcissusunsure if I am art or artist.My heart stenciled with purposein the face of perpetual loss; A Girl with Balloonblack and white statements strickenwith red accentsRecognizable / Unknown.

More from WC Quinn ↓

• @astoldby.wcquinn on Instagram
• @wcquinn 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 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 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

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.

Unlearning PerfectionMya NoelaniI took up the task of unlearning perfectionBecause what is perfect anyway?Besides of bunch of standards we try to maintain to impress other peopleI’m learning that it’s okay that the same pile of clothes has sat on my floor for three daysOr that I’m not always on my P’s and Q’sAnd that sometimes the most productive thing I can do is get in my bed and sleepI’m learning that perfection is a performance for which I don’t have time because I’m trying my hardest just to stay aliveI’m learning that life isn’t linear but bunch of highs and lows a bunch of day by days and lot of figuring it out as we goLet me ask you something…if Jesus got killed for being just that, then truly, what is the point of perfect anyways?It’s something I’ll never be no matter how much I tryAnd life is just not meant for constant strivingSo, I’m unleashing perfection to fully know meTo embrace opportunity and possibilityTo give myself some graceTo find courage and strength to complete the tasks I’ve been assignedSo tell me again…what is perfection besides a distraction that prevents you from experiencing the fullness of life?

More from Mya Noelani ↓

• @noelanis_diary on Instagram
• Her book, The Dreamer’s Diary, 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.

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

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.

You Are PoetryEmma-Jane BarlowI hope you know that you are poetry.Everything you do is artand you don't even know it.The way your eyes glistenand your whole face beamswith light when you're happy.The way you sink into the sofaand hum a little to yourself atthe end of a hard day.The way you hold the dooropen for a stranger and smile,or the way you speak to animalswhen you seem them pass by.The way you see gift givingas the most precious wayto know someone andthe time and care you put into it.The way you stand underthe downpour of waterat the end of your shower,to feel a rush of gratitudefor simply being alive.The way you watch the steamrise when you make a cup of teaand wonder where it disappears to.The way you love others witha fierce yet gentle loyalty,you always see the best in people,even when they don't deserve it.The way you push out yourtongue when you concentrateand how your fingers dance whenyou're nervous or excited.Even when the poems don't flow,I want you to know,that you are poetry.Never forgetthat everything you doand all that you areis pure magic.

More from Emma-Jane Barlow ↓

• @emmajanepoetry on Instagram
• @emmajanebarlow on Substack
• Her books, Darkness & Light & Sins & Sunflowers: Second Edition, are out 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 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

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.

Only SleepingJo GuzmanThe flavor of “Fuck you” smacked across my lips when I wokeNot so much in angerMore like calm clarityI touched my heart with my right handThe one that used to pledge allegiance to many thingsI believed the stories for so longThe ones about love and heroes and goodUntil I realized the truth often died with those mortally silenced because the empire said soMy hand and my heart set about their workCounter clockwise circlesUnravelling layers of grief and shame and angerNo wonder there was so much pressureAnd then I felt the flickerThat little flameThe one that never extinguished no matter whatNo matter what form of fear held me by the throat until I almost stopped caring about my own breathAlmostAlmostLittle did I know that the dragon was only sleepingDeep in my heartThe nearly obscene pressure a message from my bodyWake upThere is no hidingNo more, noneIt’s fire season, you knowAriesRising, rising, risingBurn it downFire purifiesMy heart on my hand stoppedAs I realized the gift…RestDo it nowFor the battle is comingAnd God needs her best soldiers ready

More from Jo Guzman ↓

• @_acuppa.jo on Instagram
• @acuppajoguzman on Substack
• Her latest book, Eros Despite, is out now. She has also published Craving and 28.

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