One Poem Only

Someone, open me up.Fillet me, from my shoulder blades, kneed out the knots I’ve collected throughout the years.Flip me over and crack open my ribcage, lungs deflated, heart popping out at you like a jack-in-the-box.Pour bleach down my airways, forget other aesthetics and make me pure like a candy cigarette.cut out my heart,Rumor has it that it's beaten for too long.Look inside, see the heart string that broke, the thinning of the aortic valve.
I hear my liver is rotten, kidneys growing mushrooms; my throat’s got a hole in it, my tongue growing blue.
Put a heart-shaped patch over every hole I've made, give me new, paper maché organs, ones I can’t feel in my chest.
Give me taffy heart strings in a cotton candy heart, pump me with helium, and sew me back together with ribbon and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be okay.
- Lindsey

More from Lindsey ↓

• @writing.by.lindsey on Instagram
• She is currently working on a poetry book.

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.

Jun 23 - Hunger, as Salvation by Ariel K. Moniz: @kiss.of.the.seventh.star on Instagram. Her chapbook, Nostos Algos, is published with Ethel, a Micro Press.

Jun 24 - Shadows by Harriet Monroe

Jun 25 - playing god by Michaela Godding: @michaelagodding on Instagram. Her book, the year our grandmothers died, from AOS Publishing will be released February 2026. Her chapbook, Dwelling, is out now from Bottlecap Press.

Jun 26 - Inheritance by Maggie Devers: @rembrandts.cure on Instagram. Her book, For My Daughter, is out now.

Jun 27 - Gender Affirming Care by Nikki Grierson: @poeticallynikki on Instagram.

Jun 28 - fatal dance - a love story between fire and wood by velvetpoetess: @velvetpoetess on Instagram

June 29 -

Whir Maggie Devers The flower falls from the tree And floats in the waterAnimated in her demise.
That she’s held on this long,To the middle of September,Is remarkableThen again it’s warm And these days summer stays
The girl teaches me tricksBossy described this type in the olden days– Back in the eighties when they still spanked kids,She’s heard the stories.But I want to protect her from bossy
I think as the hummingbird hoversWondering what to do with flowers in the poolChirping noisily to protect the nectar still enthroned in the treeNot bossy, just directAs more flowers fall

fatal dance - a love story between fire and wood Velvet Poetess there is this certain hungera hunger that cannot be satisfied byanother but youI reach out my handdon’t let it be in vainfor we both know how this shall end; let usat least celebrate it properlydance til death with melet us light up this world one last timebefore my hunger will have been foreversatisfied;before the only remains of your existenceare smoke and ashes

More from velvetpoetess ↓

• @velvetpoetess 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

Gender Affirming Care Nikki Grierson When I was a girl Little flurries of hair Began to sprout Here and there At first I didn’t notice But then something made me care What if other people see, Will they point and stare?
This worry, grew in my mind As I studied the weekly magazine Where cover girls were smooth Their skin had a beautiful sheen Was I a “proper girl” Like those in “Just Seventeen”
So I began to study The art of hair removal Wanting so badly To gain my peers approval As to be accepted as a woman Becoming hairless seemed crucial
Of course I was told “You are far too young” “Don’t worry about that, just keep having fun” But I stopped wearing shorts In the days that came with sun And at night I would toss, and I would turn For me, gender affirming care had most certainly begun
Now it’s triggered It was here to stay If I was becoming a woman I had to look a certain way Clothing now more important Than the games I used to play I started to wish for boobs I even began to pray!
Eventually we all had bras And fruity glossy lips But then came something else I wanted those womanly hips! Society was infecting me With its binary gender grips
And here we are today Things have gotten worse As filtered fake images Keep our hands in our pink purse Then those trying to demoniseThose who want to live free, diverse Assuming those who are different Are nothing but perverse Helping to maintain the patriarchal curse

More from Nikki Grierson ↓

• @poeticallynikki 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 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

Inheritance Maggie Devers She tells me she likes the new sideWhere they eat pomegranates all dayAnd her lifeSounds like an ancient poemChanted down the agesTo her at six.
I wonder if the myths are always in usAnd we ache to relive them through art
She says meditate instead of prayAnd Stracciatella instead of chocolate chipAnd I think that’s a generational vernacular shift in the right direction
She holds the scrunchie open and pulls her hair throughAt the final pass she stops halfway, a poor man’s bunAnd I wonder what’s inherited and what’s instinct.

More from Maggie Devers ↓

• Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter
• Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

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

playing god Michaela Godding (The average person forgets ninety percent of their dreams. I have started keeping tallies on a notepad next to my bed to keep track of all the forgetting. I wonder if endings are all we can rely on. I wonder and wonder and remember that eighty percent of the human body’s heat comes out from the head and I wonder if wondering will burn me to pieces.)
They say that life is easier when you are younger, that you can breathe and swallow at the same time until you are seven months old, that as a four-year-old you ask approximately four hundred and fifty questions a day. They say that what you can’t control you should put in god’s hands. My hands have twenty-seven bones, twenty-nine joints and at least one hundred and twenty-three other named ligaments but I wonder. I wonder about the unnamed ones. I wonder about the fifty thousand cells that will die and be replaced in the body by the time you finish reading this sentence.

More from Michaela Godding ↓

• @michaelagodding on Instagram
• Her book, the year our grandmothers died, from AOS Publishing will be released February 2026.
• Her chapbook, Dwelling, is out now from Bottlecap Press.
• You can listen to me read Michaela Godding’s, Poem For a Mother Six Years Out of Prison, over on Instagram @rembrandts.cure

Shadows Harriet Monroe 1860 – 1936 What is most near? Ah, sweet dead year- Thy fallen leaf And gathered sheaf,The presence that is fled,The vows that once were said- These are most near.
Swift speeds away Rose-crowned To-day. So far, so far Her light feet are!I look and see thy faceHaunting the upland place, Dear Yesterday.
The blooming flowers, The sunny hours- These cannot rest, These are half blest.But thou forevermoreArt mine, love, as of yore, And time is ours.

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

Hunger, as Salvation Ariel K. Moniz This moment, sun speckled and innocent—I speak of prophecies, i plant seedsof affection in your perfect, peachy ears,and it means that I am thinking of tomorrow.
I await their blooming like all great pleasures,though i do not know in what season they may come or what balm of tenderness they may carry to meas you lay your head upon the pillow beside mine.
I hope for lavender to calm me and bring the bees,those little archangels of better days and July nights,or rosemary, to remind me what it is to desire you,like a meal hours off but simmering, a promisethat spills out the late afternoon windows.
This moment here, sun drenched and pricelesssoothes like sitting down to the dinner tablefilled with the sun-bronzed faces of dear ones,or the first bite of that long labored meal.
I want the lingering afternoon hours of waiting.I want to feel the hunger rumble in my stomach thick and as alive as August storms, if it is for you.I want to pine for the taste, that savory reliefand I want it every day of this wandering life.
I want to know you, long summer daygelato-fingered savior, who I long for.I want to know you, and I want to knowin my sunshine bones that the cravingis just as blissful as the full belly.

More from Ariel K. Moniz ↓

• @kiss.of.the.seventh.star on Instagram
• Her chapbook, Nostos Algos, is published with Ethel, a Micro Press.

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.

Jun 16 - Midlife Calculus by Britt Kaufmann: @brittwriter on Instagram. Her website: brittkaufmann.com. Her book, Midlife Calculus, is out now from Press 53

Jun 17 - Swans by Sara Teasdale

Jun 18 - Pollen Count by Danielle Marie Cahill: @daniellecahillwriter on Instagram. This poem is published in The Quarter(ly).

Jun 19 - She has a new god by Maggie Devers: @rembrandts.cure on Instagram. Her book, For My Daughter, is out now.

Jun 20 - Him by Christy Granger: @christysdigitalhaven on Instagram. Her book, Broken By Beauty: The Beauty of Broken Bonds, is out now.

Jun 21 - After I Lost Him by Barbara Ehrentreu

Jun 22 -

Cold Blood Maggie Devers In cold bloodBones acheSeraphim chokeOn their holy wordsSongs frozen In mute frequencyElectric hums quietLights flicker outFire dimsCollapsed, a final sighNothing movesIn cold blood

More from Maggie Devers ↓

• Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter
• Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

After I Lost Him Barbara Ehrentreu The sun still shinedThough its rays didn't warm meEncased in my shell of griefMy body felt neither heart not coldOne entire side of me was lostLopsided I stayed indoorsNot attempting to face the world aloneTeetering in uneven terrainI tried navigating by myselfDipping my toe into the water of being aloneAnd gradually I mendedPut together with strands of tenderness cemented with passing time

More from Barbara Ehrentreu ↓

• @barbaraehrentreu on Instagram
• You can read more of her writing on her blog: Barbara's Meanderings
• Her book, You’ll Probably Forget Me: Living With and Without Hal, is out now
• As is her YA novel, If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor

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