iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 05/08/2026

@zoomburst.substack.com #OddChallenge Macaronic poetry challenge: Je l'accepte! (Pardon me, Germanophones, for this indelicate roast of Weltanschauung's ludricrosity as a English loanword; to use it in English implies one's worldview is foreign to your hearers.)

Poem on a background of camera film strips, paper, and faded text reading: "weltanschauung, weltanschauung, augggh!" and "hate every moment of your life"

Poem: Weltanschauung,

a word which
wants a weary brow,
the Smell Of The wild wold
feral on sweaty clothes;
Bookshelves creaking under
weighty Wittenstein,
Hegel, Nietzsche, Kant, all under Scopenhauer's rational scope.

It wants that depth to you,
jawohl, but does not insist;
It is merely your milieu,
your hygge, your ennui, your dolor and elan, your Umwelt
Fused to create a cynical
world-weary view on
filching highfalutin’ German words
To Sum up one’s "worldview."

Hey Weltenschauug?
Hasta la vista, baby.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 17/03/2026

👉For your Consideration: "The Green-Robed Gnome" #bedroomeyesprompt #fieldOfSnakes #MelancholyEnds #inthisdarkhour #promptcombo #GLOWprompt: G: Comedy L: Garden O: keyboard W: purring

Background: Green-capped garden gnomes standing in the darkness with lanterns.

The Green-Robed Gnome

In this dark hour, a purring came
from my garden, abode of gnomes,
shaking me from my melancholy
ends on my keyboard.
With lantern I witnessed the horror-
a field full of snakes writhing,
joyous cats prancing fro and to.
My gnomes, lined up behind
a green robed gnome with shamrock stave.
The cats did act as sheepdogs,
greatest miracle I ever saw, to drive
these snakes from my garden,
leaving only their slither marks
and heavy, oily odorous spoor
when morning came, with gnomes
returned to their places, impassive.
Better yet, garden pests vanished
from my garden for weeks afterwards.

Echognomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 11/03/2026

#FoxProse 3-10 #WeirdMicro #MPPrompt: write a spell #MadMarch inside (2 inline rhymes) I'm no hexpert. I'd sooner rhyme about poop than blather about the deathly toll of politics-- but sometimes it lands in one's backyard like a freshly decanted dumpster fire. You've been warned.

Stages of Casting Out Curses
Brewing the spell from endless remorse for could-a-have beens
"Why did we let these pedophilic crazies take power?"

Slip inside parallel universes hunting solutions
"A dog's doing for this grand thing called being"
Philosophical crackpots' ontological babble
"I gave neither assent or consent to existence itself"

Lancing with the powerless poison of acceptance
"human nature is always etropic in character"
Steeping inside the void within and without
"Tomorrow will be the same as today, only worse."

Controlling the flame of anger on low heat only
"My ribcage can't stand the sheer rage this deserves"
Putting the fan on to clear the smoke from mirrors
"What CAN I do in all this, that I haven't thought of yet?"

Realizing the potion must affect many to wor,-
"Evil beats good by tricking good into surrendering first."
Spritizing the world with hope and will to resist
“Nil Illegitimati Carborundum, No Pedo Kings!”

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 10/03/2026

@weirdmicro.bsky.social #WeirdMicro Incoherent testimony Linguistic impotence Imaginary principles Textural membrane Humorous critique #GLOWprompt adventure mountain lamp curious

A WEIRDMICRO GLOW OF ADVENTURE

A growing glint off the peak recurred so many nights
Rumors flew: "Hermit with a lamp on the heights!"
Led the pack of tales. Wildly curious, a gang of teens
startlingly broke off their humorous critiques of screens
And gathered to hike a mountainous campaign
To bring to light its source, whatever textural membrane
might come loose in their phones' peregrinations.
Truly a brave cadre all, these voyagers of the glint!
Steady their discoveries came, until they didn't--
Signal droppage led to incoherent testimony:
'no herm / rly hot hr / glo v big/ shi it coney'
Their parents linguistic incompetence proclaimed
and brought in skilled high school texters, famed
for deciphering drunken texting without sweats--
Using the imaginary principles of teen mindsets,
they read, yelled "flee! it's not light, it's lava, piping hot!
We're gonna be the next Pompeii!" rather overwrought.

Drones revealed they were right--after the eruption.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 11/02/2026

👉A Mythic Perpetuity of Love Vortices Cryptozoic beasts fall into transcendent, timeless, boundless love. Prompted by Writers_Community on IG: 1) Feb 10 monthly prompt, all rewritten, then a poem created. 2) theme poetry challenge 3, which evoked the romance of Scylla and Charbydis.

Doodle of a whirlpool in light blue upon darker blue. Text is pale blue.

A Mythic Perpetuity of Love Vortices

Afloat on probability's waters
multiverses, fragile bubbles
ready to rupture--
And in each bubble,
innumerable civilizations
recite recipes of cosmic love
invoking our names as portal

And we? The immortal current
converging all,
the metaphysical brane
mapping all vectors;
our quantum entanglement
reflecting through froth.

I am the endless whirlpool
You the six-headed hurricane's eye
within our embrace,
endless multiverses sink
to recur elsewhere.

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 06/02/2026

Borrowed "life is now a dashboard" as a prompt from Dr. Deepak Dev's "The Discipline of Better." He won't mind, I hope. The art is originally from cakestock, modified.

Whitish text on a dark blue-green background, showing a child reaching for a shiny ball full of light.

"Futures Stuck in the Past"
Life is now a dashboard of wants & must-dos.
Society is performance. Was it always?
My anthropology grows hazy.

Once I was a child, told day and night
what to do
still given room to become
to dream big dreams
Then we were adults telling ourselves
what to be,
day and night, we were grown-ups
still fighting for room
to just be and dream.

Once we were raised by gentle giants
full of reassurance and
bandaged hugs.
In their footsteps we pant
feeling perpetually small
and unfinished.

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 05/02/2026

Write a poem about waking a sleeping god. #MPPrompt Uh-oh. Another ghazal draft called.

White text on a shaded, faintly marbled black-blue background.

Poem: "Numinous Akarma"

My home went a-blaze with dire threats made to me of with cod sleeping,
Through later aquatic haze, I abruptly awoke an ancient god sleeping.

No grimoire held still intact could recite its ways, names or mortal ken
No philosopher could abstract the ethics of that god which lay sleeping

Mathematicans easily bicker and manipulate infinities upon infinities,
none dare apprehend the quantities inside the heart of this god sleeping

Without faith or piety wielded, just scrabbles at kelp-wrapped stone
My draining life unshielded became a sacrifice to this god once sleeping

The null set keeps its nonexistence aloof from all other numbers, even infinity--
Nullity's non-substance I met, dying before this incalculable god sleeping

I testify not as wandering ghost, lunatic, or joker. I met nullity in death
floating at life's stillpoint for an eternity minus itself, a newfound god sleeping

My impossible revival, my eyes and second mouth's gasp drained faces
when centuries later, bright lights and hands freed me, a non-god sleeping.

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 02/02/2026

#vss365 #soul All other bolded phrases are from #FlawedPoetsSociety on IG a while back. This poem took a while to revise.

Black text on yellow-pinkish stationery patterned with sycamore. Prose Poem across 2 images:

"Seventeen half-written letters

I. Loving you was easy, letting go stark, our hands forced by destiny. We walked hand in hand as I left you ,the silhouette of forgiveness and pain.

II. The color of goodbye was in my tears and in all the mementos I threw out after. I had to force some room to let better days call my name.

III. I sat in the same rocking chair from ten years ago. The rocking was not nearly as sweet as your arms, just rhythm for my grieving.

IV. I got diagnosed. My medical mysteries took so long to solve that healing feels a stay in an emotional burnout unit.

V. Over and over I prayed and woke up angry at the cost of careless mistakes over decades.

VI. My journal became a calendar full of sticky notes for self-healing: meditations, drafts of letters. None were sent to you. Moving on must be an unpaused verb.

VII. Letters even when unsent are their own splendor.

VIII. Sycamore trees shade emerald paths where souls journey under divine protection, they say. We knew these paths well.

IX. Blooming in stillness was my curiosity for another whose life was a dark reflection of my past, making me face my own lost selves.

Page 2 of poem, same background as page 1.

X. We shared tender bruises of melancholy. Our chats grew into a cozy sweater- unravelled by my excess and his restraint.

XI. Old wounds re-opened and emotions ruptured. We chilled then grew chill, backing off.

XII. His full bowing out was graceful in intent, perhaps. In practice, no.

XIII. I wound ripping up 17 half written letters: raw howls to somebody who thought the color of goodbye was not tears but turning ghostly invisible.

XIV. I added everything up and nothing balanced. The only math left was time. Unsent letters became prayer and their own splendor. Thusly I prayed and woke up angry for months.

XV. I felt a lonely echo trapped in the ripples of a brook mirroring the sycamore, waiting for my dark reflection to surface. Bewildered why I was even doing this, I recalled you taught me patience.

XVI. Love, you would not have done any of that. You never pried about my scars; you had so many of your own. You were my support and warmth as I was yours.

XVII. Everything we were only helped me grow. I will always be grateful for you, even as my heart knows why moving on must be an unpaused verb.

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 01/02/2026

A prompt is offered: write the ethical dilemma behind love or heartbreak. If it was good enough for this guy... Tag #DilemmasinVerse and I will see and repost.

Light pink text on black background with an image of William Shakespeare. Verse follows:

"Shaking Love’s Spear
To Jump the conclusion or not,
'Tis the ethical dilemma of love
whether you like it or not.

Paranoid hypotheses fast
warps to delusional conclusion:
Othello’s jealousy slew Desmonda.

Yet hopeful hypotheses keep hearts
dancing on strings in painful infatuation.
which some to premature graves doom.
Others drink magic brews to show
how love makes half-asses of us all."

#DilemmasinVerse

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 29/01/2026

"Shapeshifting Library Dansa" @daveashleypoet.bsky.social Thanks for the Dansa-off challenge! #Cassiopeian #Libraries @yeehawpoems.bsky.social Also borrowed January prompts from #angelealowes on IG: #shapeshifting_on_Saturday_nights and #Peter_Pan_Was_Right set the rhyme scheme for me.

White text on a background of books on blue bookshelves. Page 1.

"Shapeshifting Library Dansa

Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.
That needs no doomed fealty to flinty-hearted fairies;
All paraphernalia can be procured from libraries.
Breathe dust, wildflowers and wine. Peter Pan was right.
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

Feeling starburned and unkissed on the prairies?
Read about forgotten, fossilized, archaic emissiaries
Inside the uranium heart of cities’ museum sights.
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

Ache for when spring is coming with a strawberry
in her mouth, but dread winter? Go, let the Canaries
warm your shivery bones in your vicarious flights;
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

Yearn for grand adventures pitted against adversaries
With a strength your pipestem arm no longer carries?
Libraries will lend you the superhero strength of knights-
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

Feel yourself a soft mooncalf too full of Ben and Jerry’s?
Plan brave camp-outs with scorpions under glowing Antares
Camping, survival, and ecology books share insights--
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights

EchoGnomics

White text on books on blue bookshelves. page 2.

"Feel adrift from modern excess, ready to shun voluptuaries?
Learn the necessaries of life or thrill at death in monasteries.
There’s lots on monks’ hoods, religious lives, and last rites--
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights….

Wonder about the Goddess Iris, or why anyone marries?
Mythic or psychological trips can be taken without votaries--
Just pore through interlibrary grapevines on their websites
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

Long for a future profession which deep prestige carries,
Away from the dusty grind of mills, silos and granaries,
Hopefully clean work without bullfights or other affrights?
Explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights.

So get thee to thy book-hoards, these public libraries
Which host a cornucopia of books and other necessaries
for learning, whether causal learning or with rigorous cites;
explore mental shapeshifting on Saturday nights!

EchoGnomics"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

"Write me a poem about the lives you see on the other side of this screen. #MPPrompt" Um. Not to be disobedient, exactly-- but here's multiple juxtaposed poems as one 3 page poem, since I see their lives in verse. Villanelle, limerick, senryu, part of sestina, quatrain, free verse...

Image of mountains colored in dawn pink and yellow, with black text interpersed.

"Juxtaposed existences

(Of lives on the other side of screens
tapped out as winks, fibs, and verse,
The poet imagines more in-betweens)

Some furtive limericks about octopi
do certain fingers fully occupy
between bent knees
as dull dates wheeze
over bad restaurant meals of meat pie

(Some people prefer seafood with greens,
so this I fancy is one of the universes
Of lives on the other side of screens)

Would-be comic wits
jab out clunkers to sharpen
their worlds of wordcraft.

Keyboard nine-to-fivers
sneaking brief dopamine hits
senryus at random

(When work stalls to balky machines,
instead of succumbing to curses
The poet imagines more in-betweens)

Echognomics"

Image of a greyed out country highway with dead grass and snow patches. Black text on top. Page 2 of poem, continued:

"Life ponderers snuggle on couches
with tea, rhyming between ouches
in hope of combating the grouches

(When one life’s narrow, it often means
it’s more fun the wilder notions one nurses
Of lives on the other side of screens)

Crazy-eyed urban wanderers in love
with geometry of the streets and the loose sky
free their verses to Bsky at crossings

(When city canyons restrict the scenes
Of nature’s song for these of cutpurses,
The poet imagines more in-betweens)

Pastoral verses
form diaries of healthy air and
seeing nature’s play.

Retirees take ships, trains
or just the bus, thinking as the aisles sway
of deeper things than groceries

Echognomics"

Image of same highway from page 2, only pinked out. Page 3, concluding text of poem.

(There is worth in remembering one’s greens,
But a poet in far more thought usually immerses)

A pilot, plane on cruise control
Busies himself with the struggle of sestinas
as dashboard alarms go off
And attendants rush around in panic
And air control on the radio scolding
he said, “hush, let me get this done--”

He would not pause until a tricky line was done
then absentmindedly fiddled the cruise control
And bashed the ears ofthe flight crew with scolding
Over interrupting him at his afternoon sestina..
….
ENVOI
And so they were done, these fateful sestinas
The plane always under control, no reason to panic
So spite legal scolding, from fines he was let off.

(Of lives on the other side of screens
The poet imagines more in-betweens)

Echognomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

Mustangs clip pastures their breath steaming on dead grass warming the hoarfrost. #haikufeels #clip #dailyhaikuprompt #pasture (this photo of mustangs was taken on a warm fall day, so you'll have to imagine the chill a little.)

Photo of three mustangs-- red roan, dappled buckskin and bay grazing on a prairie ridge. Live and dead grass, thistle, sage, and a rock are visible on the slope below.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

Prompts credits: #GLOW Comedy, Memorial Library, candle, nonstop #VSSFantasy #Expanse #Crossing I find it hard to cold-cock humor into a piece about something as grave as the idea of candles in memorial libraries, the sanctums of study. Still, I gave it the ol' college try!

White text on a ghostly marbled grey-black background.

"The Haunted Library

Rumpole Memorial Library once was a great expanse
of books, bells, and candles, where ghostly vandals
frisked, pranked, and created loud, nonstop scandals.
Wanting to leave nothing to chance, the head librarian
did witchcraft learn, teaching all patrons who did yearn
how to exorcise hard and harder until they felt the burn.

Yet the holier in esperance the library became,
The more folks fell in gibberish-speaking trance
seeing an astral transhumance of tiny specters in dance:
Severe threats to bibliothecarial sanctum.

Wilder stories spread and deans became concerned.
A professor more fully analytical of the paranormal
finally traced the trouble to the candles’ formal
use for ritual crossings, not demonic evictions,

Much book-hurling drama with raised fingers to lips--
for “tace is latin for candle” ensued behind the scenes,
and the tenured head librarian was busted to a mere page.

Yet when these rye-wicked candles were yanked from lectors
and the ghosts finally went, all patrons became objectors
begging for more magical midnight study-seances,
to revisit the fun of medieval psychedelic frictions.

Echognomic"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

"A Certifiable Psychic goes WILD" Fluffy silliness with multiple fathers. #PromptCombo Prompts credit roll: #Emoetry #Justified #inkmine #naked #acrosticJanuary #wild #WildWalkPrompt #birch

Black text on light aqua background.

A Certifiable Psychic goes WILD

World’s a justified migraine:
Individual minds long ago
Lost their wild charm
Due to their naked nastiness.

What do squirrels think? Gee.
“I’m a happy nut-lover,
Life’s a birch--
Darned dogs! Flee!”

What did Dave think?
I can tell you:
“Life’s too happy for these
Darned tree rodents.”

Who do I mean by Dave?
Idiotic squirrel,
Lucky versifier, or
Darned dog? Figure it out, y’all.

Echognomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

#MPPrompt "write something you were not supposed to hear" The rough draft challenged me with a refrain, which needed a more #Emoetry #Justified form, but what? Special thanks to @jenthorne.bsky.social for reminding me how some of the best #villanelles are accidental; that made things coalesce.

Text on a greyed background of water ripples. Poem.

"The Semantics of the Audible

I have no idea what anyone was meant to hear.
The keenest ear kicks meaning up to the brain.
Of sounds the most silent ear is no great seer.

Eerie noises in the darkness create a growing fear
justified or not, until fully deemed safe to disdain
I have no idea what anyone was meant to hear.

How tricky to lipread the growls of tiger or bear
Even when their stances threaten approaching pain.
Of sounds the most silent ear is no great seer.

Were we meant to hear cricket’s chirps as cheer
Or are we mere eavesdroppers in their domain?
I have no idea what anyone was meant to hear.

Mingling and laughing in most alert social gear
Noise challenges folks to decipher chatter’s reign
Of sounds the most silent ear is no great seer.

As applied to the world’s random soundsphere
Meaning creates a queer philosophical strain.
I have no idea what anyone was meant to hear.
Of sounds the most silent ear is no great seer.

EchoGnomics"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 26/01/2026

Prompt credit roll: #Foxprose #provocative pursuits #2wordprompt taste shallow #WIPsnips #commit #DailyHaikuprompts #Charcoal Kingfisher #DawnChorus #necrotic revival #GrimScribe #Cryptic notation #WeirdMicro #painted saints #wake Font credit roll: Grenze, Copperplate Black 32 BC, Magnolia Script.

Text on a nearly white background of water showing concentric ripples.

"SKETCHY WRIT ON A WALL

Below, in painted saints’ wake
we found a cryptic notation
written in charcoal
promising a necrotic revival
if we would commit
to taste the kingfisher,
so we did.

Many major fines later
for fishy songbird roasts
from our provocative pursuits
of kingfishers as delicacies,
we finally became un-shallow enough
to pore over a dictionary.
We realized the ruse:
our own avian massacres were
the foretold necrotic revivals."

Echognomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 25/01/2026

👉 "Satin Suites" Prompts credit roll: #WeirdMicro #Grotesque Gallery #GrimScribe #Clinical rendering #FoxProse #satin suite murmurs #GLOW fantasy, fabric factory, wagon, earsplitting

White text on golden fabric background.

"Satin Suites
By the magic tapestry factory
Satin suite murmurs emanated
from a wagon full of elvish fabrics
Woven into a grotesque gallery
of various races’ anatomies
in clinical rendering
destined for the royal tower
where physicians and torturers
trained side by side,
one to heal, one to peel.
None ever asked how they felt
about this arrangement.
They refused the same doors
or times of study, yet if
earsplitting screams came
from patient or prisoner
none knew which was which.

EchoGnomics"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 25/01/2026

👉"Post-compositional Missives" Prompts Credit Roll: #WeirdMicro #evocative prose #GrimScribe #unrelenting irony #DawnChorus #Grand Reopening #postscript debut #FoxProse #dead-drop love note #OurPoetryX #moving forward/ #touch ‘em all #WIPSnips #Notice

Poem overlaid on image of orange oak leaves on a branch. Each column can be read as its own poem, or the whole read as a whole.

"Post-compositional Missives

I notice evocative prose
in this dead-drop love note
from tree to earth
a fine postscript debut
inscribed in
the grooves of vein
the eloquence
of drying stomata
of moving forward
grand reopening of branches
not unrelenting irony
parts moving in a fixed whole
a pure season of love
which touches ‘em all
reconfiguration

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 24/01/2026

#MPPrompt Poesy a poem using months as adjectives. I flowed over the character limit by April or thereabouts, alas.

Text on a gradual blue-yellow background.

"Monthlong Meronyms

January jaundice is pale;
February fever rather rosy,
March malaise rather mad,
April aprications rather foolish.
May meanderings rather polemic,
June judders rather wedding-like,
July jubilance rather explosive,
August augury a flight of fancy.
September sepia tones overly scarlet,
October occlusions of lawns spooky
November nectars overflowing
December decorations cheerful,
Annual annulments intercalary.

Echognomics"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 24/01/2026

👉"Cera-Mics at Nightclub Honeypots" Prompt credit roll: #Vssmagic #flag #GLOWprompt: Spy Genre, nightclub, clay pot, seed. Special inspiration thanks to the bawdy bard, @daveashleypoet.bsky.social for letting us espy his wild-bread English madrigals.

Background is glittery lights blurred against darkness.
Poem: "Cera-Mics at Nightclub Honeypots

The seeds impasted on clay pots were bugs
flagging scandal to create a gleaming prize
of blackmailed folks as worthy dupes of spies.

As drunk clubbers swapped damp kissing hugs
to make their hazy passage to drizzly skies,
The seeds impasted on clay pots were bugs
Flagging scandal to create a gleaming prize.

Laughing dealers passed out potent drugs
as to ply wills and loosen tongues from lies
While the powerful spilled their drinks and guise
The seeds impasted on clay pots were bugs
flagging scandal to create a gleaming prize
of blackmailed folks as worthy dupes of spies."

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 23/01/2026

👉 TWO SPOOKY HAIKUS (prompts in image.)

Background is either obsidian marble, or spirits in the dark. TEXT:

TWO SPOOKY HAIKUS

CURIOSITY
Nosy boys bowed down
to examine the bridge’s gap
And trolls’ bows took them.

#GLOW prompt *horror, bridge etc.

SOULLESS AFTERLIFE
Gravewarm revenants
come online in troll-bot guise
to reap the living.

#horrorprompt #afterlife
#haikuhorrorprompt #gravewarm

EchoGnomics

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 23/01/2026

👉"What Breakup, Ma'am?" Prompts credits roll: #Emoetry #festive #WildWalkPrompt #Cliff #GLOW prompt: drama, tanning, truck, bitter.

Image: neon pinkish sci-fi cartoon of woman on tanning bed on a graduated tan background. Poem:

"WHAT BREAKUP, MA’AM?

“None of that truck,” said Cliff,
grabbing his towel modestly.
“Just the tan, ma’am.”
She, bitter at the festive occasion
and called ma’am by her engaged ex,
Set the bed to “surface of the sun.”

Cliffhanger spoiler: He, called away
just in time to a fire
threatening tiny kittens
at a shelter, lived.
The tanning bed did not survive.
And she? Fired, and henceforth
never darkened another man again.

EchoGnomics"

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 21/01/2026

👉For your consideration: "The Dejected re-activity of Shrinking Violets." Prompts credit roll: #vss365 #bend #WildWalkPrompt #Bouquet #emoetry #dejected #BedroomEyes #fluorite_dreams #retribution #Foxprose #shed_the_lining #WIPsnips #activity #RetroArtPrompt #wise All corpses are fictional.

Poem on a blurred floral background with orange, pink, red and green.

"The Dejected Re-Activity of Shrinking Violets

When he told me
my fluorite dreams
were just glitzy rainbows of illusion
and meant I had rocks in my head
I knew it was time to shed the lining
of affection and deliver a retribution
bouquet of bent petunias, tansies
buttercups, traces of monkshood,
black dahlias & roses
(channeling Emily Dickinson
with full ‘roid rage)
with a flowery kidnap note
demanding money equal in value
to a heart transplant
as mocking distraction
while I skipped the country.
Wise? No.
But they never ruled it murder, so. "

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 20/01/2026

Prompts Credit Roll: #vss365 loom #WIPsnips troll #vssdaily extinct #emoetry cautious #BraveWrite vestige #OurPoetryX diverse #2wordprompt wait, toe #RetroArtPrompt rocked #foxprose where_eternity_ends #firewords280 regimented, rest #inkmine sunny, shape, smoldering #GLOWprompt thriller, clinic etc.

Text on a background of red cogs and wheels.

A Brief Thriller For Women
No good times exist to face the looming vestiges
of trolls purported extinct
from an age of diverse ice floes
rocked by mastadons’ stumbles
into where eternity ends,
encircled by polar bear hordes.
I couldn’t think of a worse time just now.
my cautious knees apart,heels in stirrups,
toes barren of jackboots, and my guns at rest
from the usual regimented routine.
As I pulled off my headphones,
briefly furious at the clinic for not teaching
these smoldering shapes
of misogynic grievances to wait,
the zesty surprise of blood in progress
bewildered their meager wits.
A sunny lining which let me grab my guns.
After a brief noise, we resumed things.
Ladies’ problems come first.

ECHOGNOMICS

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 18/01/2026

In response to #MPPrompt request to write from the How-POV of a mountain or stone. Poet looks at mounts and asks how their peaks work Geology explains. #Emoetry #affectionate, #VssMagic #pound #VSS365 #dapple and haikufeels #look Also special thanks to Dr. Deepak Dev.

Poem on blue-grey crystal background.
"Interrogating the Montaine Psyche"

Poets often speak to me.
thrilled when my valleys echo back,
then verisfying about gods
surveying the world from high,
apparently attempting
to think like mountains.

No poet has before directly inquired
just how I view the world.

I am not spirit or god, but geology.

My rocky veins transmit sunlight patterns
by warming rock expanding hard
against colder shale, causing faint tremors
for softer rocks to record.

I feel the world’s rhythms this way,
by rock rubbing rock.

Echognomics, January 17 2026

The strongest gales are affectionate
in caressing my peaks
Their roars inform me I exist.

Water also conveys information
enriching my senses,
for entire ecosystems
balance on my rocks and streams.
.
My south slope warms in sun
while my northwestern slope sleeps in snow.
I know both as equally good.

When the seasons turn,
I know their meaning by the feel
of snow, ice and rain
and life’s bustle upon me

EchoGnomics January 17, 2026. Page 2 of 3

Long before humanity
my interior recorded the skies.
I know solar flares, the stars,
the moon pulling the tides’ pound,
and the dappled hum from everywhere.

Your astronomers climb me to
to get better looks. I understand.

I am small before the cosmos, too.
The sky teaches me proportion.

And so I exist, aware I am
in harmony with myself and the world.

Is that not happiness defined?

EchoGnomics January 17, 2026

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 13/01/2026

#Grimscribe #EngimaticAntihero Prose Poem or mini-essay polemic "We are the Generation" about the Generation X zeitgeist and how we learned lessons Baby Boomers never had to, and how some continue to try and turn the clock back to the bad old days.

We are the generation of enigmatic antiheroes,
reared on the polluted teat of Watergate and 'Nam.
preached at by newly capitalist ex-hippies
Whose secret lives might raise eyebrows on skid row
And damaged relics of World War II whose eyes
Betold ancient horrors that they would inflict on you.
Mixed up across race & abilities in school,
we learned who was worthy of respect and not
that is, some of us learned. (Others just never
bought into that whole respect thing, Jerks abound.)
Many of us died in the AIDS epidemic.
I won’t claim our cynicism brought a depth
of wisdom superseding insecure alienation,
and rage to smash the patterns of the past
But I won’t claim it didn’t either. A birth cohort
or the era does not entirely make the person.
But freedom from lead and brain-ruining pandemics
Does create a trend of better brains and lower
violence. Brain-damaged Baby Boomers
want to turn the clock back, bamboozle the weak
see everybody’s grandkids suffer for their egos.
As we knew very young, some people never grow
into any feeling no matter how old they get.,
just better and crueler at their folly.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 31/12/2025

All ash turn ashes, As emerald ash borers destroy vast forests. #haikufeels #ash My white ash cranes high, long-healed from borers through woodpeckers' care.

Green circular inset shows the very emerald-and-gold Emerald Ash borer. The bigger picture is an ash tree with grey bark coated by lichens, with a large central strip where bark was stripped. The brown cambium (layer under bark) bear the long, twisty looping marks of emerald ash borer tunnels. These grooves are shallow but palpable to somebody touching it. They eat so the bark gets killed and comes away from the trunk and breaks off. If a tree has its bark completely cut off all around, that is called girdling and will kill the tree.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 30/12/2025

From @poets_island (Instagram) December prompts. (See bolded words.) Too long to post straight, doing my first poetic jpg. So glad alt text is not limited to 300 characters.

Poem: Self-Assembled Profoundity, or Yule IKEA it by EchoGnomics.
My leaf tears as I halt my classical circus tour;
such picturesque pretense, stuck on metaphors
from long-dead religions where December dreams
were of Saturnalias-- far more earthly pleasure
than our mail-packaged blueprints of bitterness
guaranteed to have most descending in despair:
I would be no longer their fool, but I am caught
between planks with hex wrench slipping cams,
trying to assemble ancient pomp as a child's bed.
Pausing, I crave to taste the footnotes of forever.
To the window, then to sip the stars in stillness,
these deceptive diamonds curated by constellations.
Nursing my knuckles and waiting for softened scars,
I watch Venus glow as the mysterious stranger,
musing on possible benefits of living in a heavy soup
of superhot atmosphere-- and fearing we will find out.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 10/11/2025

Prairie dogs can carry and die from the plague. All it takes is a few bad fleas biting 'em, and BOOM. They're living the life of medieval peasants, only with better teeth. No wonder they're sourpusses. #rodentsfollowinghealthcarepolitics (taken at Theodore Roosevelt National Park, 2013.)

Two prairie dogs sitting up and looking very disapproving of our presence. One has a frown, the other has major side eye.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 05/11/2025

This was too much news for a lone starling to bear, so the flock set out to spread the news far and wide. (Shot near Bismarck, North Dakota.)

A susurration of starlings arises like a black mist from a golden field.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 03/11/2025

I left the city to fill my life with egrets, Not live with regrets. #Haikufeels

Mated pair of egrets build a nest in a tree. One has its wings flared; the other is nearly hidden behind branch.

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EchoGnomics @echognomics.bsky.social · 03/11/2025

Was trying to capture the dark ripple of a beaver, but it dove.

Water ripples on an autumn pond with a beaver lodge.

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