iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Thank you! I really appreciate you taking the time to read them. Glad they landed with you!

Thank you for reading them! I’m always grateful when these little pieces of me find a home with someone else. Really glad you enjoyed them.

Thank you! I’m really glad they connected with you. It means a lot knowing people are out there reading and enjoying what I put into the world.

Thank you so much, Jim. That genuinely means a lot to me. If the poems can make someone stop, think, or feel something for a moment, then they’ve done what I hoped they would. I really appreciate you reading them.

Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

Thank you, seriously. If something I write makes somebody feel a little less alone or a little more alright for a minute, then I’m definitely doing something right. I really appreciate you saying tha

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I'm truly honored to have “Basking in the Glory of Self-Defeat” nominated for Best Small Fictions 2027. Thank you, Dog Throat Journal, for believing in my work. Congratulations to my fellow nominees! I'm genuinely grateful to be included.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

As a kid, I thought adults had everything figured out. Now I get excited when the store has my favorite bread, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time, and I’m pretty sure everyone else is winging it too. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A humorous, affectionate poem about how growing older changes our definition of happiness, until something as ordinary as buying a good kitchen sponge becomes a small shared joy.
The Good Sponge
When I was young,
I dreamed of having money,
freedom,
and a house of my own.
Yesterday,
I bought a new kitchen sponge.
I showed it to my wife.
She agreed
it was a good sponge.
I don't know
when this became happiness,
but I think
we're doing okay.

A playful poem about the endless responsibilities of adulthood, particularly the exhausting realization that deciding what to make for dinner is a problem that returns every single day.
Dinner Again
Nobody warned me
that adulthood meant
deciding what to eat
every single day
for the rest
of my natural life.
I made dinner yesterday.
Apparently,
that doesn't count
for today.
At this point,
I'd welcome
a little jury duty.

A reflective poem about reaching the age your father was when you believed he knew everything, and realizing that his confidence may have concealed the same uncertainty and fear you experience as an adult.
The Age My Father Was
I reached the age
my father was
when I thought
he knew everything.
I remember asking him
what we should do
when something went wrong.
He always had an answer.
Now I wonder
how many times
he was just as frightened
as I am,
and answered anyway.

A warm, relatable poem about never quite feeling like a proper adult, despite managing everyday responsibilities. It suggests that growing up may simply mean caring for others and doing your best without knowing all the answers.
No Instructions Included
I thought someday
I'd wake up
and feel like an adult.
Instead,
I lose my keys,
forget why I entered rooms,
and occasionally eat cereal
over the kitchen sink.
But the bills get paid.
The dog gets fed.
Someone I love
knows they are loved.
Maybe growing up
isn't knowing what you're doing.
Maybe it's doing your best
without the instructions

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Reposted by Joshua Walker

One Fall Review @onefallreview.bsky.social · 22/09/2026

@bigjosh84.bsky.social Joshua Walker steps back between the ropes at OFR with "Hasbros Everywhere." onefallreview.com/2026/09/21/h...

Reposted by Joshua Walker

Rattle Poetry @rattlepoetry.bsky.social · 15/09/2026

Joshua Adam Walker, Prompt Poem of the Month Read the full poem here: www.rattle.com/the-epic-of-... #poetry

I only went out for groceries. Joshua Adam Walker from "The Epic of Aisle Seven" Prompt Poem of the Month September 15 2026

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

It’s another day, and we’re all still blessed to be here. But we live in a world constantly telling us how little we matter. So, for whoever needs to hear it today: You matter. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A heartfelt poem about the ways our lives affect other people without us realizing it, and how kindness, humor, and memory can become evidence that we matter.

Evidence

You think
you don’t matter.

Meanwhile,

someone still tells
a joke you taught them.

Someone hears your name
and smiles.

Someone is kinder
because once,

you were kind
to them.

You don’t get to see
all your evidence.

A poem about understanding a person’s importance through the absence they would leave behind, in familiar sounds, spaces, and everyday moments.

The Empty Chair

You learn
what someone weighs

when they leave.

Not in pounds.

In silence.

In the missing laugh.

In the chair
nobody sits in.

Don’t tell me
you are nothing.

Nothing
doesn’t leave a hole.

A gentle poem about how changing the world doesn’t always require something enormous, and how listening, staying, or making one difficult afternoon easier for someone can matter deeply.

Ordinary

You don’t have
to change the world.

Maybe you changed
one afternoon

for someone
having the worst day
of their life.

Maybe you stayed.

Maybe you listened.

The world is made
of afternoons too.

A hopeful poem for anyone questioning their importance, imagining the friends, neighbors, and strangers they have yet to meet whose lives may someday be touched by their presence and kindness.

For Whoever Needs It

There are people
you haven’t met yet

who will be glad
you kept going.

A friend.
A neighbor.
A stranger

who will need
exactly the kindness

only your life
could have taught you.

You are not finished
meeting everyone
who will love you.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

September showed up. I have reviewed the situation and decided Billie Joe Armstrong was right. Wake me up when it ends. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about September arriving before the speaker feels ready, with the calendar promising a fresh start while they are still carrying the exhaustion of August.

September

September arrived

without asking
if I was ready.

I wasn’t.

Still tired
from whatever August was.

The calendar insists
this is a new month.

I admire
its optimism.

A humorous poem about everyday responsibilities piling up while exhaustion makes staying beneath a blanket feel like the most convincing option.

Five More Minutes

I know
the world is waiting.

Emails.
Dishes.
Plans.
People.

But the blanket
has made
a compelling argument.

Give me
five more minutes

to be nobody.

A playful poem about having barely enough energy to exist and accomplish one tiny task, treating limited energy like a precious resource.

Low Battery

Today
I have enough energy

to exist
and perhaps

move one object
from one room

to another.

Please use
this information

responsibly.

A weary but hopeful poem about waiting for change, cooler days, and good news while accepting that sometimes simply doing what you can is enough.

Malaise

Wake me
when something changes.

When the air cools.

When good news
stops feeling
like a rumor.

Until then,

I’ll be here,

doing what I can

and calling
that enough.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 18/08/2026

The dog days of summer. It’s easy to feel tired. Easy to get stuck. Easy to mistake waiting for defeat. But when it’s time to get back up, you get back up. Sherlock understands he’s not done. Are you? Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet #resist

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 12/08/2026

I wonder how many ordinary days became the best days of our lives without bothering to tell us. Maybe that’s why I keep writing them down. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about realizing only afterward that an ordinary gathering was the last time everyone would be together, and how life’s final moments rarely announce themselves.

The Last Ordinary Day

Nobody told us

it was the last time
we would all be there.

Same table.
Same terrible jokes.
Someone complaining about the coffee.

That’s the cruelty
of last times.

They usually arrive
dressed as Tuesdays.

A nostalgic poem about being young, driving nowhere with little money, singing too loudly, and believing those ordinary nights would last forever.

Passenger Seat

We drove nowhere
because nowhere
was all we could afford.

Five dollars of gas.
Windows down.
A song ruined
by singing too loudly.

I don’t remember where we went.

I remember believing
we’d do it forever.

A poem about remembering an insignificant late-night moment with someone you love and realizing years later that you would trade countless important days to experience that ordinary hour again.

Kitchen Light

You stood in the kitchen
long after midnight,

eating something
straight from the refrigerator.

We talked about nothing.

I don’t remember what we said.

Only that now

I’d trade a thousand
important days

for that meaningless hour.

A poem about recognizing that today’s seemingly unremarkable moments may someday become precious memories, and that life’s most important days rarely look important while we’re living them.

Today, Probably

Maybe today
is one of them.

This coffee.
This ridiculous dog.
This person beside you.

Maybe someday
you’d give anything
to enter this moment again.

Look around.

Nothing is glowing.

That’s how you know.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 08/08/2026

I actually had a piece I submitted for this called “Judgment of the Green Cloak.” I was genuinely disheartened when I got this email. Such a great idea for an anthology, ruined.

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Amazing question! I don’t know yet. I just know it’s probably the room I’ve spent the longest pretending I never left. 💙

Thank you so much. That truly means a lot to me. I’m grateful you took the time to read them. 💙

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Thank you so much! I really appreciate that. 💙

Thank you for trusting me with that. I’m sorry that poem hit such a familiar place, but I’m grateful it made you feel seen. Wishing you nothing but kindness as you keep moving forward. 💙

Thank you so much. I’m really glad they resonated with you. I truly appreciate you taking the time to read them. Wishing you all the best as well. 💙

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Thank you so much for saying that. It truly means a lot to me. I’m grateful the poems could bring a little light your way. 💙

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Somewhere between becoming who we were supposed to be and surviving who we had to become, most of us misplaced a piece of ourselves. Maybe poetry is how I look for what I lost. What about you? Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about how people sometimes abandon pieces of themselves to become easier for others to accept, and the courage required to reclaim those lost selves.

Where I Left Myself

I think I left

a version of myself

in every room

where I learned

to become easier to love.

One stopped laughing.

One lowered his voice.

One apologized

for taking up space.

I have spent years

calling them maturity.

Tonight,

I am going back

for everyone.

A poem about becoming so quiet, obedient, and careful as a child that distress goes unnoticed and disappearance is mistaken for good behavior.

The Good Child

I became so good

at causing no trouble

that no one noticed

when I disappeared.

I ate what was given.

Said I was fine.

Carried my sadness

like a glass filled

to the rim.

Everyone praised

how carefully

I walked.

No one asked

why I was trembling.

A poem about looking at an old photograph and grieving the uninhibited joy that existed before shame and other people’s expectations took hold.

Old Photograph

There is a photograph

of me before I knew

my face could disappoint people.

I am laughing

with my whole body,

mouth open,

eyes nearly gone.

Sometimes I study it

like evidence

from a missing-person case.

Not because I want

to be young again.

Because I want to know

where that laughter went.

A poem about realizing that healing may not mean returning to a former self, but creating someone new from everything that survived and came home.

Return Address

I keep waiting

to feel like myself again,

as though the person I was

has been delayed

in the mail.

But maybe healing

is not a return.

Maybe there is no address

where the old me

still lives.

Maybe I am building

someone new

from everything

that made it home.

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Thank you, my friend. I always appreciate how much kindness you bring to reacting to my work. 💙

I’m really glad it found you at the right moment. 💙

Thank you so much for reading. 💙

Thank you. I’m especially proud of where that one landed. 💙

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 29/07/2026

Thank you so much. I’m really glad they connected with you. 💙

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A text arriving at the right moment. A dog choosing your lap. Someone remembering how you take your coffee. Life keeps hiding miracles inside ordinary packaging. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about being included in someone’s moment of wonder and how a simple phone call can become proof of closeness.

Emergency Contact

You called

just to tell me

the moon looked strange.

No crisis.

No confession.

Just proof

that somewhere in the world

something beautiful happened,

and for one small moment,

you thought

I should be there too.

A poem about love appearing through attention, memory, and the small details someone takes the time to learn.

How You Take It

You remembered

two sugars,

no cream,

the chipped blue mug

I always choose.

People speak of love

as thunder,

but sometimes

it is simply

someone paying attention

long enough

to learn your weather.

A poem about the healing power of being chosen without judgment by an animal who sees only warmth and need.

Chosen

The dog crossed

a room full of people

and rested her head

against my knee.

She knew nothing

of my failures,

the names I regret,

or the nights

I barely survived myself.

She only knew

I was warm

and needed choosing.

A poem about ordinary acts of kindness and how salvation often arrives quietly through everyday people.

Small Gods

The neighbor

brought our trash bin in

before the rain.

Someone held the elevator.

A stranger returned

the wallet I had already mourned.

We keep waiting

for heaven to split open,

never noticing

how often salvation arrives

wearing ordinary shoes.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 16/07/2026

Okay so forgive me, unfortunately I don’t have a direct video to share so here’s a Facebook link; here’s the OETA Gallery America feature on me. It’s a genuine honor to be featured by such a legendary series. www.facebook.com/share/v/1FLW...

facebook.com

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 15/07/2026

Somewhere today, a stranger is humming the same song you are and neither of you will ever know. Being human is strange and occasionally beautiful. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about how an ordinary question can feel dangerous to someone who has become skilled at hiding what they are really feeling.

Small Talk

“How have you been?”

is such a dangerous question

to ask someone

who has practiced

saying “fine”

with perfect timing.

A poem about missing someone so deeply that every small moment becomes a reason to reach for them.

Almost Called

I almost called you

three times today.

Once when something funny happened.

Once when everything went wrong.

Once for no reason at all,

which was probably

the real reason.

A poem about how small daily actions can become quiet acts of courage when simply staying present feels difficult.

Proof of Life

Some days

the bravest thing I do

is answer a message,

wash one plate,

open the curtains,

and let the world know

I have not disappeared.

A poem about two people separated by distance but possibly thinking of each other beneath the same night sky.

Same Moon

Tonight,

someone you miss

may be standing beneath

the same moon,

thinking of you

with the same impossible distance

caught in their throat.

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 09/07/2026

It’s kind of incredible that human beings keep doing taxes and buying cereal while fully aware of their own mortality. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about how ordinary grocery shopping quietly reveals our hopes, responsibilities, and plans for the future.

Shopping Cart

Every shopping cart
contains a universe.

Cat food.
Frozen pizza.
Laundry detergent.
Birthday candles.

Proof that hope
often looks like

planning
for next Thursday.

A poem about the difference between finding what we need in a store and searching for meaning in life, hidden inside an ordinary exchange at the checkout.

Receipt

The cashier asked,

“Did you find everything?”

I almost said,

“No.

I’m still looking.”

Instead I smiled,

paid,

and bought bananas.

A poem using a GPS as a metaphor for life, reflecting on how certainty is easy for machines but much harder for people.

Directions

The GPS said,

“You have arrived.”

I laughed.

If only life
announced itself
that confidently.

Most days

we’re just recalculating.

A poem about preparing tomorrow’s coffee and realizing that simple daily routines are quiet acts of hope and faith in another day.

Tomorrow’s Coffee

Before bed

I set the coffee pot
to brew
at six.

A tiny act
of optimism.

Every night
I quietly assume

there will be
another morning.

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Thank you. I’m really glad that landed. I wanted the title to feel ordinary at first, then take on a different weight once the poem revealed what the call really meant.

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Thank you, Jim. That means a lot. I’ve always believed the ordinary moments have the biggest stories hiding inside them. I’m grateful they resonate with you.

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Beautifully put. I think that’s exactly what keeps me writing. The ordinary world is endlessly interesting once we slow down long enough to really notice it. Thank you for sharing that. 💙

Thank you so much, Jim. That really means a lot. I’ve always loved finding the extraordinary hiding inside ordinary moments, so I’m glad these little collections are connecting with you.

I do. I think writing has made me pay closer attention to the ordinary moments most of us walk past. A lot of my poems start with something small that refuses to leave me.

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I think most of us are carrying entire chapters of our lives that nobody knows about. Here’s some poems. 💙💙💙 #poetry #blueskypoets #writingcommunity #BlueSkyPoetry #SkyPoet

A poem about recognizing love through quiet actions rather than spoken words, and how care is often expressed in everyday moments.

Things I Heard (You Never Said)

You never said
“I’m proud of you.”

You asked if I’d eaten.
You told me to drive safe.
You waited for the phone to ring.

Love rarely sounded
the way I expected.

It sounded like ordinary concern
wearing work clothes.

A poem about looking back on childhood, losing certainty with age, and still appreciating the hope carried by the person you once were.

The Boy I Used to Be

The boy I used to be
thought grown-ups knew everything.

Now I’m older
and I know better.

Sometimes I miss him.

Not because he was right,

but because he believed
tomorrow always arrived
carrying good news.

A poem about memory, nostalgia, and how the past often feels warmer and closer than it truly was because memory reshapes what we remember.

The Illusion of Yesterday

Yesterday feels close enough
to wave at.

But every road back
leads somewhere new.

Memory rebuilds old houses
with fresh paint.

It remembers laughter
better than silence.

It leaves the lights on
for people who have long since gone.

Then asks us
to call them home.

A poem about how dreams change with age, shifting from chasing success to finding meaning in simple moments, home, and the people we love.

7 Dreams (A Better Way)

I dreamed of money.
I dreamed of fame.
I dreamed of escape.

I thought happiness
was waiting somewhere else.

Now I dream
of a slower morning,
a full table,
someone glad I came home.

Funny how growing older
teaches you
the better dream. 💙

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Thank you so much. I’m glad they connected with you. 💙

Thank you. I’m glad it found you when you needed it.

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You’re very welcome. Thank you for reading. 💙