iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

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Beth Ember @ctrlaltdltffs.bsky.social · 28/04/2026

murmuration flies from my tree dozens of birds moving together flawlessly, a beautiful dance it looks like the swirl of a gymnast's ribbon or the aurora borealis a delicate game of follow the leader #wss366 #murmuration #poetry #writing

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Ju (Julian) @hool415.bsky.social · 16/04/2026

Hullo. An old random poem. #poetry

Mission Assistance

My school friend: orphaned now at fifty,
only sibling been shorn away too.
His last trip down from London
pre the sale completing.
I’m helping with his awkward landing
at this coldest family home.

Inside. Dusty lunar floors,
baffled hooks float on ghostly squares of pristine wall;
a lone Diet Coke can,
proof of recent visiting life:
the planted flag of the house clearance man.

Never have you been this unfunny –
funny is your oxygen,
even during these deaths…
but nothing here
fills up your tank.

You hover around this airless place
tentatively today,
talking like an astronaut,
so very distant,
with all your painfully unaware

long

communication

delays.

Julian Cason

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Ocularics @ocularics.com · 19/04/2026

┤MONDO FREUDO├ New digs and prospects. #abstract #abstractart #contemporaryart #outsiderart

When little boys grow up to face mortality and accountability to whine into the void of immeasurable wealth.

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Rachel Deering @racheldeering.bsky.social · 20/04/2026

🖼️ Dick Twinney

Two badgers in and around their sett, woodland setting, painting.

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Rachel Burrows @rburrows.bsky.social · 13/03/2026

Morning @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk My #PoemsAbout #Consent didn’t even get to my bugbear! 😂 I decided there was enough for another poem/tome. So just in time for Mother’s Day…😬 #poetry

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Fiftywords @fiftywords.bsky.social · 13/03/2026

This prose poem is written in conversation with the closing movement of James Joyce’s Ulysses, Molly Bloom’s great “Yes.” It takes that current of affirmation and reimagines it through a more collective, contemporary voice. #PoemsAbout Thanks @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

Yes and I said yes here it is now this rush of thoughts spun out and unfurled the city lights outside blinking through the curtains and the low electric hum of today and yes I feel it there already the throat that learned silence now finding its old note again and oh how they rise louder stronger every whispered no turning slowly into a roar and yes there it is again that word opening like a door because this is how it's been
isn't it hidden glances silenced words held tight behind lips pressed thin but no more no more of that yes no more I think of the spaces filled by women who dared who spoke who pushed back on the words put in their mouths the silence put there too and how beautiful how defiant it feels to stretch out and rewrite what is given not with permission but certainty yes I say to that yes to the hand reaching across tables across divides fingers brushing for a moment the quiet warmth of
another palm a connection born not of doubt but choice and I think of mornings the way they break open wide with light spilling across the floorboards warm on bare feet and yes that feeling again the day widening around you and I know it's the same in every moment a chance to turn to say yes to your own shape not trimmed to fit not bent to please but full-rounded-unapologetically here yes here there is power in this acceptance not passive but fierce the knowing glance the quiet laugh a smile remembering every room we were once told to leave
and yes the doors opening now yes to the messy yes to the bold the soft and strong in equal measure yes to the step taken the breath that speaks truth out loud not borrowed not bargained for but claimed yes this is the place we meet eyes forward hearts open in the echo of each voice that dared and yes I said yes to that to this to the way the world bends when
we do when we push forward with the light in our eyes unyielding and yes I think this is where it begins again yes again and again
every moment opening
yes

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gita “the formalist” jackson @xoxogossipgita.bsky.social · 10/03/2026

The best advice I have for writers is: the harder you try to impress people with your prose, the worse your prose will be. Sit down and try to communicate honestly, you will find the places for your flourishes and metaphors that actually serve greater meaning rather than your own ego.

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Association for Scottish Literature @asls.org.uk · 11/03/2026

A filth of leaves, she said, a froth, she said Of sudsy flowers, and there’s your mawkish Spring. Oh, barebone tree, what has it done to you? Black field, you’re gone but for remembering… —Norman MacCaig, “Green stain” THE POEMS OF NORMAN MacCAIG (Birlinn, 2009) #poem birlinn.co.uk/product/the-...

Green stain
Norman MacCaig

A filth of leaves, she said, a froth, she said
Of sudsy flowers, and there’s your mawkish Spring.
Oh, barebone tree, what has it done to you?
Black field, you’re gone but for remembering.

I keep my winter where my heart should be.
– I’d rather bear it in its blackest moods
Than see those frilly leaves and blossoms make
A haberdashery of wholesome woods.

A mish-mash green, a sickly groping, such
A fumbling into light! How could they surpass
The icy shapes of darling winter hidden
In luckless trees and ill-starred meadow grass?

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Indrapramit Das @indrapramitdas.bsky.social · 10/03/2026

Dragon posting 🐉

Charcoal pencil drawing of a dragon with wings outstretched and tail like a whiplash as it soars through what is meant to be a grey and storm-heavy monsoon sky over Calcutta.

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Béa Gonzalez @sophiacycles.bsky.social · 05/03/2026

Jung said you can cure a psychotic patient if you can make him creative. In other words, if what is destroying him from within can be brought forth in writing or painting or some other form, then he can be cured. What we try to do is to help people bring forth the Self. ~Marie-Louise von Franz

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Laura Duthie @darkonelf.bsky.social · 07/03/2026

Empty road of an endless place, On old king rock and its rhythmic base, Sing to the moon at a crossroads halt, Found a diversion that was never your fault. #writing

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C. Oulens @owlnsquirrels1111.bsky.social · 06/03/2026

#PoemsAbout #BeingWatched Coincidentally, haven’t been able to write for quite a while…but here’s a little piece. Thank you for reading 🙏🙏 For @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk #Oulens #BlueskyPoetry #micropoetry #prosepoetry #poetry #poetrycommunity

between sinners, taking note
By C. Oulens

when I told Poem, this week’s Being Watched, she took fright—went hidin’ below some rock. i combed the sea for her, croonin’ my fav’rite Nina Simone—i called out: what’s the use crawling ‘neath that which refuses to hide your sin? i tried to convince her, the page has weight. i even reminded the silly dame—between the two face to face—the paper wins straight. yea, i tried to lure her further with somethin’ shallow and lame: you have the sentience to wrap the rock’s unrelenting shame. she snapped back: sinsister, I’m hiding well my journal of your guilt. but don’t take refuge b’hind my name.

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Paul Willson @pauljwillson.bsky.social · 04/03/2026

The Isle of Lewis

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Francis H Powell writer and poet @fhpowellwriter.bsky.social · 03/03/2026

Buttons undone hair swept by the wind incoherent like a back to front dream canoeing around a large cup of tea making hand signals with a mind all at sea speaking in riddles drowning in beers #BraveWrite #riddle #writingcommunity @bravewrite.bsky.social