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Ellissa @ellissa.bsky.social · 14/07/2025

#haikufeels (smile) #haiku #poem #poetry #blueskypoet #flowers #bloomscrolling Who can resist Her big bright smile Beautiful sunflower

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Amy Borgman @amyborgman.bsky.social · 14/07/2025

biting into the first peach… the sweetness of farmhands #haiku #peach

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Maria Carvalho @immcarvalho.bsky.social · 14/07/2025

Floating paradox— #Contrarian clouds enhance The popular view (My 📸) #vss365 #haiku

Dark storm clouds against a rosy sunset sky.

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TDKlein @tdklein.bsky.social · 14/06/2025

white wild chamomile and old raven's blackened call along the green path #haiku #poetry #dailyhaikuprompt #poetry

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Joshua Walker @bigjosh84.bsky.social · 31/05/2025

Some months don’t break you— they just drift past, quiet and heavy. I didn’t come here with answers. This is the ash that still breathes, the pulse beneath what didn’t burn. #blueskypoets #poetry #poems #poetrycommunity

A single curled leaf floats silently on a still glass surface, refusing to fall despite the passing seasons. The scene feels heavy with quiet regret and suspended time.

I wrote this poem to explore the feeling of being stuck—caught between moving on and holding on to something that won’t release you. It reflects that uneasy space of waiting and unresolved loss.

The Leaf That Forgot to Fall

A single leaf floats still upon the glass,
Its edges curled like thought that dares not speak.
No ripple moves, no wind dares gently pass—
The world holds breath around its silent peak.

It does not fall, though all things must descend;
It lingers like regret that will not end.
Beneath, the water gleams with something old,
Too clear to lie, too heavy to be told.

The scent of rain remains but does not stay,
A song of leaves forgotten in the sway.
The weight of waiting presses on its skin—
A hush so loud it howls from deep within.

It does not stir, but still it feels the turn:
The world moves on—and yet it will not burn.

A quiet, dust-covered windowpane symbolizes fading memories that slowly slip away, becoming distant and fragile. The poem captures the ache of losing touch with what once mattered, the subtle unraveling of the past.

I wrote this poem to express the painful fading of memory and the weight of absence that remains when what we cherish begins to dissolve beyond reach.

The Sound of Memory Dying

The silence hangs like dust on windowpanes,
A weightless hush that stains the edge of thought.
Time cracks beneath its rusted, aching chains,
And memory becomes what once was sought.

A candle’s breath, a whisper in the dark—
Each echo falters, softer than it seems.
The shadow’s edge grows brittle, losing spark,
Unraveling the thread that held the seams.

The air tastes like a name no longer known,
A bitter syllable that slips the tongue.
Each step recalls a voice that stands alone,
A faded verse too soft to have been sung.

What lingers now is not the thing once dear,
But absence shaped by everything we fear.

Set in a lonely motel room on the edge of a frozen landscape, the poem captures the quiet ache of waiting and loss. The cold neon lights and distant freight trains echo the emptiness inside, as the speaker reflects on someone who left, leaving only silence behind.

I wrote this poem to explore the feeling of being stuck in a place where time seems to freeze—waiting for something or someone who won’t return—and the quiet heartbreak that comes with that kind of absence.

1 Hour 28 Minutes Outside of Tulsa

The motel hums with neon burning out,
A freight line moans beyond the frozen pass.
The static snow keeps drifting all about,
My coffee growing cold beside the glass.

She left a note—but nothing I could hold,
Just “couldn’t bear to die inside that town.”
The letters shook, like something had gone cold—
She must’ve stopped, then forced the rest back down.

I could’ve chased her—God knows I was near—
But I just sat there, watching headlights slide.
Some hearts don’t break—they disappear in fear,
And mine was just the place she went to hide.

Now I exist where silence eats the sound—
Where roads go dark, and love won’t turn around.

$This poem reflects the pain of reaching out to someone who no longer responds—letters full of hope and regret sent into silence, returning unread. It’s about the struggle to communicate when the connection has been broken and the loneliness that follows. I wrote this poem to express that quiet desperation and the feeling of being shut out, even when all you want is to be heard and understood. Letters Home (Return to Sender) The ink bleeds through, soaked in fractured regret, Words meant to heal now crumble into dust. Letters crumpled in silence, left unmet, Their echoes fading, lost to rust. I send them, though you’re too far to reach— A voice in the void, lost in a forgotten prayer. My heart trembles, hoping you might teach, But your absence swallows the weight I bear. You never opened what I poured on the page, Kept them locked tight, too cold to unfold. I begged for you to listen, but I’ve become a cage, Drowning in the silence, bitter and bold. Each letter returns, empty but still alight, A hope that flickers, just out of sight.$

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IrishLisa 🌈 @irishlisa.bsky.social · 15/06/2025

Dark heart, rayed in light, Striped petals reach for the sun, Green depths softly blur. #haiku #Poetry #Writing #Micropoetry #Photography #Flowers #Garden #Gardening #GardenLife #Nature

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Sanya @sanjar.bsky.social · 15/06/2025

hunting what evades swan slashes the deep balance nothing to grasp here #DailyHaikuPrompt #hunting #vss365 #slash #haiku #zen #poetry #nature #photography

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summerghost @asummerghost.bsky.social · 06/06/2025

We need beauty because it makes us ache to be worthy of it. - Mary Oliver

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Cian McCarthy @arealmofwonder.bsky.social · 05/06/2025

Mary Oliver with some wise words...

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yeeorjanedoe poems 🕷️ @yeehawpoems.bsky.social · 15/05/2025

Absurdism is back let's get off track but at least rhymes wait that was limes she's getting weird speaking in third person and that was bad old hat call it what you will busting out the frills sometimes you just gotta yap and thrust wait what lmao forget that one #poetry

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Sydney Scott (romance author and typo queen) @sydneyscottauthor.bsky.social · 16/05/2025

it hits with blinding #clarity that there has been disparity feeling cherished was a rarity so I say this with sincerity I wish you much prosperity as I muster my temerity to leave all this familiarity and find one without asperity who thinks of me as a singularity #vss365 #poetry #rhymes

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DeRicki Johnson @derickijohnson.bsky.social · 23/05/2025

Poetry Has ruined me It’s quite plain to see It’s rooted In my #marrow Deep As Deep Can Be Everytime I’m talking, A poet in my head— Busily Constructs rhymes Of every line I’ve said If I’m speaking to you And get A Far ‘Way Look Means The poet in my head Offbeat detour took #vss365

media.tenor.com

a red car is driving down a dirt road with trees in the background

ALT: a red car is driving down a dirt road with trees in the background

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Betti Gefecht @bettigefecht.bsky.social · 03/06/2025

#vss365 #NoPrompt #ItJustCame2Me #Limerick The rhymes could be cleaner, and the measure tighter. Still no giving up on neither poetry nor fun. I'm a fighter. At least, with my poems, it's always A-A-B-B-A. No matter what.. So, sorry, what can I say? No shit, I'm a Limerick writer!! 🎉✊🤪

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