iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 14/03/2026

Sir Barksalot two sips of coffee and I remember the song my mother taught me at five to find my way home and new names I gave people’s pets, Adam not listening to Eve, my smooth brain in love with words- -now I forget them, and more, my cup is lukewarm, and I’ve missed my turn

122

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/12/2025

Don’t Invite Bob To Meetings Anymore “One thing we could do- tell workers to keep moving, always up and down, just like the characters in old-time cartoons. And lay off the staff in Tuxedo, New York.” We stared into cups, the sun behind the clouds, Mr Scrivener’s tapping pen making all the sound.

000

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/11/2025

An Accident by the School In seconds the ambulance was gone. Twenty cars pulled to the shoulder pulled out again, each engine strong oxen leaning into their harness. We were not the wounded, nor the one perhaps dead. We still had a promise, intent or a purpose, five hours left to Saturday night.

013

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/11/2025

013

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/09/2025

Stationary Day I would move there, near the old apple tree that no longer bears fruit and those roses and bees with the honey-filled hive but to lug heavy boxes with my bad back and knees, and to that house, hard swept and sweet, I wouldn’t bring to it a single further ghost.

011

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/09/2025

011

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 21/08/2025

Vitae Cognoscere “He’d get, here and there, a few hundred feet closer to the sun one time in the Catskills saw up on top marine fossils in rocks it rained across the brown mountain he laughed and cried, wasn’t all that much but some days he was something” is maybe how some will remember me.

022

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/07/2025

My current guitar/music obsession is Swing Jazz, and tonight I learned a simple chord melody version of Thomas “Fats” Waller’s 1929 classic, “Honeysuckle Rose.” Swing is such joyous music and a blast to learn and play! These tunes and their composers cannot be forgotten.

042

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/07/2025

042

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/06/2025

This month, I’ve been doing a deep dive into George Benson’s brilliant guitar playing (if one only knows him from his 80’s/90’s pop music, go back and listen to play “Take 5”. These are some of GB’s licks and phrases, played at around half his speed.

000

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/05/2025

Want to hear more self-indulgent noodling like this? If you remember that Bugs Bunny once thought he was Elmer Fudd, millionaire, who owned a mansion and a yacht, and if your back vaguely hurts all the time, this could be just your thing! Howl’n Davis, Sat night 8-12 at the Sussex Airport Pub, NJ.

010

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 10/04/2025

The Previous Tenant’s Son in pencil had written on the sill, that “Brian was here,” forty years gone, Brian, you still are “was,” and what I was, I mostly still am, with the window opened wider to let in more air and the blinds opened higher to let in more light. #poetry

082

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 10/04/2025

082

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 08/04/2025

You Mean I’m Not Failing The Class? Tom stared at his score and then he stared some more, his head tilted like a dog’s holding something not a bone, crossed eyes like he was calculating a tip, his tongue an anteater’s far out then inside, obviously wrapped around his fresh, large brain.

021

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 08/04/2025

021

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 23/03/2025

Rails 6:45, December, no one president, nor dancing ballet, none saddling horses to drive cattle across plains, just a group of us tired, pains and aches braved with coffee and a pill, thoughts on work or doing it again, a million birthday candles waiting seated for the train.

042

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 23/03/2025

042

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/03/2025

000

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 14/03/2025

To That 70’s Kid Starving In Africa Why wake this way. The pillow was fine, why awaken to a piece of dream, a memory of not coming down from a slide, a small battle of wills, a time I made my Mom count to five, then slid into her arms, victory mine. I never did tell her how often she was right.

020

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 12/03/2025

Like A Leaf I thought what could in a minute first, a rush, leaving words on the Oregon trail for thirty seconds I looked at rocks wondered which sky would come after those clouds well, this is where I get off I can’t speak for you

041

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 12/03/2025

041

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 12/03/2025

Greenview Park The elderly couple held hands in the park, not a moment of light slipped through. His knuckles rough and scarred, a bandage on her thumb, her head on his shoulder, he hummed and she nodded in rhythm. We had to part to let them through, a low, blue moon come between us.

073

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 09/02/2025

Patter My dad said, “In ‘71, I made a big sale, a young blonde buyin’ a stairway to heaven.” He coughed, paused and enjoyed one last smoke before he died I know he lied about that and how God cried but we call it rain I’m think while the phone is ringing, my steak sizzling in the cast-iron pan.

031

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 09/02/2025

031

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 24/01/2025

After hours in the sun, I take off my shirt and show what I’ve done, how red burnt I’ve become, so sharp against the white but if I’d stayed inside I’d have missed the circling terns, a walk along the wrack line, for three unbroken shells, my sore spine bent a thousand times.

072

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 24/01/2025

072

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 19/12/2024

A snippet of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

031

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 16/12/2024

Time to learn a new Christmas tune!

042

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 03/12/2024

Presto! I sawed the evening in half but couldn’t put it together again, then pulled a rabbi out of a hat— that too didn’t seem right- made a wand disappear… well, it’s behind my sofa. I can’t quite reach it, my arms stuck in my jacket- I believe my magic is out there, just not under a red cup.

084

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 03/12/2024

084

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 23/11/2024

Brocken The last breath of morning jumped and sang behind me as I walked in silent steps toward fog, the sun a hand on my sore back, a specter on a journey ahead of me with my shape and size but without my tired eyes nor the intuition to leap the chasms that open up at night. # poetry #poems

094

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 23/11/2024

094

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 19/11/2024

Suicide Ethics He was dead, or she was dead or they were… a cross or truth table around the neck, the radio still on, everyone looking through the car glass, losing faith and fate the talk while some kept to their phones. Then police told us all to go home without even a proper chance to mourn.

061

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 19/11/2024

061

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 12/11/2024

November In New Jersey For now it’s other people’s fire. We watch those scared evacuate, we pray for rain. We grade papers, we cut wood along the grain, a cook pours avocado oil into a hot cast-iron pan. Then we turn to the news again, needing to learn toward which town the wind next will turn.

1119

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 12/11/2024

1119

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

Vikki C. @vikkicwrites.bsky.social · 11/11/2024

Hello #WritingCommunity I'm Vikki C. I write poetry & prose exploring themes of identity, heritage, eco-crisis, social consciousness, dystopias, posthumanism, myth & spirituality. My latest poetry collection 'Where Sands Run Finest' (DarkWinter Press) is available on Amazon 🖤🦋

'Where Sands Run Finest' by Vikki C. Published by DarkWinter Press.

1218357

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 05/11/2024

Easy, then, my achievements biological, mostly grown to a new height marked in pencil by the door- now there’s no one here to have me stand, no sharp pencil in hand, my head closer to the floor and I couldn’t see a mark if I tried to make one, my eyes so soft, and it’s night.

163

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 26/10/2024

Convenience Store I fell in love with them as they walked from the store they’d worked for over twelve hours, lifting their sweat with napkins, away from the sugar and tobacco and a thousand loud voices with tired, wide smiles. I’d wanted today to break my heart, but these two will not let me.

1197

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 26/10/2024

1197

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 03/09/2024

As You Rolled Through The Stop Sign (it’s always been there) Our latest talk on cancer come to a quiet end, the deer I’d seen turned out to be leaves brown on brown, all this an argument for sky and ground, birth and death, to end simply, short of breath under a moon on some mountain’s bald head.

041

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 03/09/2024

041

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/08/2024

22 Maple Lane With bald heads and hot hearts, contractors come. Some put up pipes, some tear down walls. Will the new neighbor ever mow the lawn? And leave holiday tips for our mailman, Juan? Alcoholics and housewives have seen a white ghost. I heard a short breath during prayers for the dead.

032

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 22/08/2024

032

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 02/08/2024

And Earth A pebble in my boot as l hike to the peak away from "no" faces, from economic downturn, toward pink granite exposed and worn I gasp as I push, gasp as l rise to count in the valley red-orange trees as sunset burns the day to death, I gasp to catch even one more breath.

041

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 02/08/2024

041

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 09/07/2024

Editor That day they gave me the blender manual, for a simple appliance, almost a toy. “The blades are very sharp” I took out “very,” made myself a smoothie, and under warm water the steel sliced my finger with one easy glide. Bandaged, I wrote, “The blades are sharp!”, and I saved the world.

010

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 04/07/2024

Celebrating the end of teaching summer session-back to the classroom in September!

030

Reposted by AlanLovesPoetry

scare-ah 👻 @sarahmillswrites.bsky.social · 20/06/2024

I have 2 prose poems up in Gone Lawn today. A dream come true! These were the first poems I ever wrote from my “Irene” series, which I am planning to have published as a chapbook. 🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️ @gonelawn.bsky.social

gonelawn.net

Gone Lawn 55 : Sarah Mills

63413

AlanLovesPoetry @alanpoetry.bsky.social · 20/06/2024

A well-to-do ne’er do well in his forties in the 40’s, the champagne cold and his fedora black, a silver grain to the film! The movie’s been spliced. My forehead’s been bandaged, which will heal into a scar which at my age will be rough. I’ll cover it with a hat when I’m out.

010