One Poem Only

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead.

Jan 19 - Chasing the Light by Old Fart with a Guitar @old_fart_with_a_guitar on Instagram. Stream his music: OFWAG LinkTree.

Jan 20 - A Merciless Winter by Farida Shamim

Jan 21 - Don't call it hope or you'll scare it away by Candace Kronen rom Candace Kronen @candacekronenpoetry on Instagram. Her Substack: Stories I'll Tell My Daughter. She is co-editor and publisher of If You Ever: Poems Inspired by Kim Addonizio. Listen to me read, When I can’t sleep, I Google how the world ends. by Candace on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure.

Jan 22 - Shimmer by Jessie Marie @Jessie.Kaiser on Instagram and Threads.

Jan 23 - “Hope isn't a shy thing” by Eileen Strawberry @Soulsounds20 on Instagram. Wayward Traveller on Substack. Her poetry appears in Beautiful Ways to Say edited by Katie Elizabeth.

Jan 24 - Same Old Story by Amelia Cabantog @meels_the_poet on Instagram.

Jan 25

Burn the Flag Maggie Devers Burn all the flags Strew the tea in the harbor Fill the kettle or the pot Pour it out, drink it down Divine the future
Free from false idols Free from men who say There is no future in the leaves, That all we can hope for in the saucer Is bitter grit in our teeth
But they don't know that ash is soft Between our fingers We paint our bodies To become one with the dust With the end And the beginning

More from Maggie Devers ↓

1. My debut poetry collection, For My Daughter, available as an audiobook.
2. Purchase a signed copy of For My Daughter or get one free by subscribing to the podcast: One Poem Only on Patreon
3. Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

Same Old Story Amelia Cabantog Everyday the news replays the same old stories. So, and so, died So, and, so was deportedSo, and, so's rights are being taken away.Meanwhile a mother is crying because her baby is slowly dyingAnd a brother is screaming because he doesn't know how to cope with all of his feelingsAnd a girl is lying broken, in a bed she did not make.The people outside are screaming and shouting, and crying and bleeding on the streets,But they remain unseen, and unheard.They're fighting for rights that we've already had to fight for beforeAnd history is repeating itself in the ugliest way.Somehow, the sun is still shining even on the darkest days,And the girl is still smiling, even on her darkest nights.She goes out and protests,And screams “No kings,”But within she's screaming so much more.“Get rid of ICE!”“Hands off of women's bodies and reproductive systems.”“LGBTQIA people exist and always will.”She wishes she could change the world,She wishes that someone could hear her voice.But she is always drowned out by the crowd.So, she holds her breath, listening to the mother crying over her baby who's bleeding out on the streets.And the brother screaming about all of his pent up feelings,And the protesters yelling,And the news playing over and over again.And at the end of the day she is still lying broken, in a bed she never wanted anyway.She's hoping one day someone will listen to her,And one day she will have changed the world.She's hoping one day she won't have to fight for her rights,And that the rest of the world will wake up and see the damage that is being done,And the people who are being killed,And all of the rights being taken away, not just their own.She wants the world to love each other and be kinder to each other,So, no one else has to listen to a mother crying because her baby was killed by a cop,Or a brother screaming because people keep invalidating his feelings of hatred towards himself,She doesn't want any other girl, or guy, or nonbinary, or genderfluid, to be lying in the same bed.That none of them made or even wanted to sleep in.

More from Amelia Cabantog ↓

1. @meels_the_poet on Instagram

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

“Hope isn't a shy thing” Eileen Strawberry Hope isn't a shy thingShe has white knucklesand spits gritWhen oppressors beat down on her shouldersShe draws her sword swiftlyNo hesitationNo deliberationShe will slay dragonsfor her kinHope isn't a pretty thingScars mar her complexionShe's missing some teethDirt crusts under her nailsCalluses roughen her feetYet her vision is clearHer heartbeat steadyCourage courses her veinsConviction deepens her voicein times of chaos and confusionHer truth shears through the noise

More from Eileen Strawberry ↓

1. @Soulsounds20 on Instagram
2. Wayward Traveller on Substack
3. Her poetry appears in Beautiful Ways to Say edited by Katie Elizabeth

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

ShimmerJessie Mariemy shimmering heart draped in tearsdrums a song behind a thorny cageghosts dressed in moonlightwail against the inky black of nightsorrow is stitched into their eyesan echo of dreams heard on the windI restore myself in the light of the starsa spotlight of hope drinks me upsuch a dream of being whole again

More from Jessie Marie ↓

1. @Jessie.Kaiser on Instagram and Threads

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

Don't call it hope or you'll scare it away Candace Kronen Call it window or thread or undone button, call it plump lipsand the slip of a sound, open palm with a single split seedwhispers of paw prints in a blanket of snow, baby hairsand broccoli sprouts, call it half hug of a parenthesis,handprint in the cave, defiant little fiddleheadpushing through the dirt, call it a clearingof the throat, first stroke of a bow, call itAsha call it Violet call it Chekhov’ssmoking gun, call it Holmesianpipe with a fresh tobacco tin,pink streak of aurorasquinting through theclouds, call it leavingspace for a casualcosmic mystery,call it, just call itand don’t closethe door.

More from Candace Kronen ↓

1. @candacekronenpoetry on Instagram
2. Her Substack: Stories I'll Tell My Daughter
3. She is co-editor and publisher of If You Ever: Poems Inspired by Kim Addonizio
4. Listen to me read, When I can’t sleep, I Google how the world ends. by Candace on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure

A Merciless Winter Farida Shamim How cruel you are, Winter —couldn’t you wait a little longer?Why didn’t you waituntil the children fell asleep,their dreams unbroken,their bellies not empty?My little ones lie down hungry,and now —how could I cover them,how could I protect themfrom your harsh, merciless air?Can’t you see —we can no longer see tomorrowwe can’t even weep.Our tears have turned to salt,our hearts to smoke.Can’t you feelthe pain we endure?Couldn’t you waituntil the sun of faith rose againto touch the facesthat still believe in warmth?How cruel you are, Winter —to come when we are already cold.

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

Chasing the Light Old Fart with a Guitar With all the bad news and all the bad vibes And the battle lines drawn between the tribes, I was lathered up, hosed down, spun around and hung out to dry. Still, life goes on at 60 years an hour And I wondered if I’d wasted my time, Cause there was so much sorrow I was running out of tears to cry… Til one day a small stone thrown by a small fry Up n hit a giant right between the eyes, He was too tall, the big fall cut him down to regular size And when he hit the ground the whole world was lifted by The vision he was blocking from sight It was a double barreled rainbow Following an angel in flight And there’s big yellow sunrise spreading out across the horizon, I’m gonna try and hitch a ride when that heavenly engine ignites So if you see me on the roadside please don’t worry If I’m standing with my thumb to the sky I’m not running from the darkness, I’m just chasing the light. I’m done pouring time into a bucket of holes I’m done casting shadows of doubt on my soul Gotta change my position, start fishing with a different pole Cause life keeps going at 60 years an hour But if I catch it by the end of the road I’ll find that double barreled rainbow Shining on a mountain of gold And there’s a big red sunset spreading out across the horizon I’m gonna follow it and see if it really is a sailor’s delight So if you see me from shoreline please don’t worry If I’m waving as I sink out of sight I’m not falling over the edge I’m just chasing the light I’m not falling over the edge I’m just chasing the light…

More from Old Fart with a Guitar ↓

1. @old_fart_with_a_guitar on Instagram
2. Stream his music: OFWAG LinkTree

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

Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead.

Jan 12 - Happiness by Navya Chaudhary @chaoticconfessor on Instagram. Her book, Unfinished Letters, is out now.

Jan 13 - I Promise by Riley Hope McPheters @rileyhmcpheters on Instagram. She is a member of @PoetzPortalFW, that exists to awaken consciousness and cultivate liberated creative practice through the transformative power of poetry, sound, and communal dialogue.

Jan 14 - Aloof by Luwa @luwawrites on Instagram. You can listen and watch me read Beauty Allures by Luwa on Instagram @rembrandts.cure.

Jan 15 - Rooted by Shaq Mendes @shackahh_wackahh on Instagram.

Jan 16 - The Season of Returning by Lara @itslarawrites on Instagram.

Jan 17 - The Anatomy of Dawn by Saleha Najeeb @gotta_slayyyy on Instagram. Her book, Whispers Unveiled, is available now.

Jan 18

One More StepMaggie DeversI’m worried you might be missing itI’m worried you might be living through it all and not really living itI’m worried you can’t smell itI’m worried you don’t pull it close and smother yourself
Will you remember how she always smelled of milk?And the way her cry would squeak early in the morning?Or how she first said daddyAnd then her own nameHow she needed us for everything and then one dayDidn’t.
I thought I’d be better prepared,That we could mark it on the calendar and celebrateBut it snuck up on me—She learned to dress herself,Feed herself,Pick up after herselfAnd I forgot what I was here to teach herAnd started learning what I was here to teach myselfWe hold on to the parts that we think come firstBut the order doesn’t go how we imagineTime is tricky—The hand that pulls you forward isn’t always your own.

More from Maggie Devers ↓

1. My debut poetry collection, For My Daughter, available as an audiobook.
2. Purchase a signed copy of For My Daughter or get one free by subscribing to the podcast: One Poem Only on Patreon
3. Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

The Anatomy of DawnSaleha NajeebDo not mistake the smile for light.It is merely how we hide the mourningof what never had a funeral.Grief, it does not arrive or leave,it resides,like a second pulse beneath the one we claim to feel.
I have carried it, you knowthe quiet dissonance of appearing alivewhile the soul rehearses its own absence.There are days I speak,but every word drips through a sieve of silence,and you, perhaps,know this kind of breathing too.
Yet, even stillness grows restless.Even darkness remembers the shape of dawn.So I begannot running,but returningto the small certainties I once abandoned,a breath that does not tremble,a thought that does not ache to end.
Freedom did not come in thunder.It arrived like forgivenessa slow unburdening,a light learning the contours of my name again.And in that moment, I was not the same.I was the echo remade into a voice,the ashes remembering they were once flame.
Now, when I speak,my words are not a sieve but a garden.The air hums with what I chose to reclaim.I have returnednot unscarred,but luminous from within the wounds.This, dear reader,is not survivalit is the anatomy of dawn.

More from Saleha Najeeb ↓

1. @gotta_slayyyy on Instagram
2. Her book, Whispers Unveiled, is available now

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

MamanMaggie DeversI see the most amazing spider webStretching between two treesAnd it is huge.
When the light hits it just soIt glimmers as a precious gem,An intricate pattern that looks fragile,But isn’t.
And I realizeThat’s what I want to do in this life—Make something as beautiful and impossible as that.

You can listen to the audiobook of For My Daughter in its entirety here.