iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 21/07/2026

…consider checking out more of her work! Here are a few more poems from Hannah’s first book, Kwaad gesternte (“Unlucky Star”), in English translation: www.poetryinternational.com/en/poets-poe...

poetryinternational.com

Hannah van Binsbergen

Hannah van Binsbergen studied philosophy at the University of Amsterdam. She published her first poems in the internet journal Samplekanon and writes for Tirade and DW B. Van Bi...

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 21/07/2026

Hannah van Binsbergen (@hannahvanbins.bsky.social), from “ESL IS THE GREATEST LANGUAGE ON EARTH” @bulbregion.bsky.social

I am
trying
to talk
in the
language
we are
trying
to talk
together.

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Kyla Houbolt @luaz.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

Whoop! It's #WeirdPoemWednesday! Thank you, @tomsnarsky.bsky.social , here is Instant Zen:

Instant Zen

Tell yourself things to do
and then don't do them.

0233

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 25/07/2026

Bill Corbett

I meant to press buttercups clover, bunchberry, hawkweed from that field into a book for you to celebrate this moment.
The field is brilliant where the flowers grow in clusters. Soon the hayrake.
Parting is renewal.

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 26/07/2026

Louise Glück

I open my eyes; you are watching me.
Almost over this room
the sun is gliding.
Look at your face, you say,
holding your own close to me
to make a mirror.
How calm you are. And the burning wheel
passes gently over us.

04512

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 23/02/2026

Georg Trakl, tr. Stephen Tapscott. just perfect

To Novalis

The holy stranger rests in dark earth.
God received the dirge from his soft modest mouth
as he sank back, in his bloom-time.
One blue flower
sustains his song, in pain’s nocturnal house.

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Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 13/02/2026

Love coming across little things like this while researching - a fragment of queer poetic history by Hilda Trevelyan Thomson in The Mask (1927) 🖤

FROM A SENSIBLE LONDON JOURNAL.

Soft as a gathered flower falls
When lightly thrown,
So lies the hand of my dear love
Within my own.

II.

As petals of the palest rose
Her fingers white,
The faint sweet fragrance of her palm
Is love's delight.

III.

Like sleeping flowers, the fingers close
I kissed apart.
... . In that soft, secret hiding-place
Is hid my heart.

If Hilda Trevelyan Thomson had written of "his" hands, "his" palm, it would have been more ordinary, I admit; but it might have:
first, had a very bad influence; and secondly, done a lot of harm.

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 13/02/2026

Langston Hughes

Winter Moon

How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp and ghostly white
Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 13/02/2026

Amy Lowell, for your Friday the 13th

SUPERSTITION

I have painted a picture of a ghost
Upon my kite,
And hung it on a tree.
Later, when I loose the string
And let it fly,
The people will cower
And hide their heads,
For fear of the God
Swimming in the clouds.

0267

Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 13/02/2026

. From the latest issue of #ForgottenPoets —A. Philip Randolph (civil rights leader and publisher) #poetry #poems #booksky

—: To William Campbell :—

I heard him say:
“Tis hard
Stand to it.”
But how hard?

Winds will not tell
Nor mountains, stars nor seas.

Birds will not tell
How hard.

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Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 11/02/2026

Meet my watermelon friend, Walt. 🍉

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sanctorium.bsky.social @sanctorium.bsky.social · 09/02/2026

swarm of dreams

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 28/01/2026

Sara Sutterlin

Act three

The night sun is reserved for
inconspicuous hunchbacks &
golden lackeys. In the apocalyptic morning
sanctimonious myths are sung high
in memory of delicious America

1174

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kimdorman.bsky.social @kimdorman.bsky.social · 28/01/2026

Lorine Niedecker to Cid Corman

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 28/01/2026

David Ignatow, from Living is What I Wanted: Last Poems (1999)

Fixed or impermanent

All these objects
fixed in their places--
trees, houses, the declaration
of independence, the bill of rights,
the constitution--awaiting
an end. The earth spins as if in search
of its executioner, perhaps
a comet sent at random
by the law of impermanence,
fixed in us
like a bent tree.

1205

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kimdorman.bsky.social @kimdorman.bsky.social · 28/01/2026

2/2 Joshua Beckman, from A Guide for Making Fragments from Diaries

0112

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Jeremy Millar @jeremymillar.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

Well excuse me

an image showing Dom Sylvester Houédard's *great* poem

frog
pond
plop

3266

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Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 11/01/2026

. 'Sonnet to Mrs. Reynold's Cat' —John Keats #poetry #poems #booksky

Sonnet To Mrs. Reynolds's Cat

Cat! who hast pass'd thy grand climacteric,
How many mice and rats hast in thy days
Destroy'd? How many tit bits stolen? Gaze
With those bright languid segments green, and prick
Those velvet ears -- but prythee do not stick
Thy latent talons in me - and upraise
Thy gentle mew - and tell me all thy frays,
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick.
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists--
For all thy wheezy asthma -- and for all
Thy tail's tip is nick'd off -- and though the fists
Of many a maid have given thee many a maul,
Still is that fur as soft, as when the lists
In youth thou enter'dest on glass bottled wall.

1305

Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

From ‘Two Cures For Love’ (2008) —Wendy Cope #poem #poetry #booksky

Two Cures For Love
Wendy Cope

1. Don’t see him. Don’t phone or write a letter.
2. The easy way: get to know him better.

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Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

From ‘There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé’ (2017) —Morgan Parker #poetry #poem #booksky

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

Juan Ramón Jiménez, tr. Dennis Maloney

POEM

I wish that all my poems
could be like the sky at night.
The truth of the moment, without history.

That, like the sky, they would yield at every moment
all things, with all their stars.
Not childhood, nor youth, nor age could rob them,
or cast a spell on their immense beauty.

A tremor, a flash, the music present and total.
The tremor, the flash, the music in my head,
The sky in my heart. The naked book!

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Rachel Deering @racheldeering.bsky.social · 27/01/2026

Hello Tuesday. 🖼️ Alex G Griffiths

Bear and fox warming hands and toasting marshmallows over a camp fire in wooded setting, watched by hare, illustration.

013026

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Litbowl @litbowl.bsky.social · 19/01/2026

From The Selected Poems of Langston Hughes: bookshop.org/a/862/9780679728184 #poem #books #writing

06013

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Ben Niespodziany 📚🎪 @neonpajamas.bsky.social · 16/01/2026

a poem of mine recently published in Michigan City Review shout-out Long John Silver's (sorry Ohio)

After Almost Choking to Death on a Life Saver in a Long John Silver's
for Joe Wenderoth

I'm being asked
to leave this
particular
Long John Silver's.
I will find
another. There are
57 in Indiana. I'll be
fine. There are
65 in Ohio, if
necessary, but don't
make me
go to Ohio. No. Please. I'm fine
in Iowa. There are 11
in Iowa. I'm okay
in Illinois. There are 23
in Illinois. But no,
no Ohio. Not today.

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Forgotten Poets @forgottenpoets.bsky.social · 13/01/2026

From ‘Concerning the Book that is the Body of the Beloved’ (2005) —Gregory Orr #poetry #poems #booksky

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BERNERI ✧ @berneri.horse · 12/01/2026

🎺🎺🎺 #sticker

32412681

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 13/01/2026

The white flowers strain upward / Into a pallid air of their references Another uncollected John Ashbery poem

A Vase of Flowers

The vase is white and would be a cylinder
If a cylinder were wider at the top than at the bottom.
The flowers are red, white and blue.

All contact with the flowers is forbidden.

The white flowers strain upward
Into a pallid air of their references,
Pushed slightly by the red and blue flowers.

If you were going to be jealous of the flowers,
Please forget it.
They mean absolutely nothing to me.
1962 (written ca. 1959)

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freshoutmag.bsky.social @freshoutmag.bsky.social · 12/01/2026

#monoku by Laurence Stacy. Laurence teaches English & Lit. courses at Kennesaw State University. He is the recent coauthor of Before the Earth: Haiku and Haikai. #poetry #haiku #oneliner #poetrylovers

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Rachel Deering @racheldeering.bsky.social · 12/01/2026

🖼️ Yamaguchi Kayō

Leaping golden deer on dark turquoise background, painting.

016129

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Susan L. Leary @susanlleary.bsky.social · 11/01/2026

Burgi Zenhaeusern 💙 from WHITE DOOR (Carbonation Press) Happy #smallpoemsunday! @burgi.bsky.social @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

THE WOODEN BOWL

fell down with a clap,
spilling clumps of dust,
long forgotten trinkets,
a folded note.

I used to write my tendrilled love for you
on scraps: unbounded eagerness
hiding under your pillow,
knocked into my cleaning today.

I put it back
into the bowl
onto the shelf.

2399

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Ben Niespodziany 📚🎪 @neonpajamas.bsky.social · 08/01/2026

Carsten René Nielsen tr. David Keplinger

All of us long for a year
when the only news
is that the trees have written themselves
into history, and the snow
has been assigned its own ministry.

02911

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Susan L. Leary @susanlleary.bsky.social · 10/01/2026

🌸Weekend BOOK Giveaway!🌸 Quote post with one of your most cherished poems, whether your own or someone else’s - bonus points if it includes flowers - and you’ll be entered to win a FREE signed, pre‑release copy of MORE FLOWERS, out February 1st with @triohousepress.org! Winner announced Monday!

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Maureen Thorson @maureenthorson.bsky.social · 12/01/2026

“Comparisons must be made.” A poem by Esther Lin.

Esther Lin

Comparison

My mother stood over my bedside and raked
at my nightgown. She said comparisons

must be made. The youthful body to the one
about to die. I rose and complied. My hair

was thick and dark, it wove itself over me.
She had no such raiment. Not anymore. What is

comparison but the union of two separate
beings? All my talents. They were given to me.

1188