iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 30/03/2026

the gossamer wings of sleepy spring sprites rustling willow leaves #vss365 #haiku 🧚🏻✨ #art ‘Woodland Fairies in the Moonlight’ by A.W. Crawford

A moonlit scene in the forest with a small river and many trees in the background. In the foreground is a large tree surrounded by woodland fairies, some still on the ground, some in flight. The bark of the tree has split open and a fairy appears through it.

17316

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 29/03/2026

For #PoemsAbout #InBloom ✨ for @thebrokenspine.co.uk & @alanparrywriter.co.uk Didn’t make it on time again… one could say I’m a late bloomer (forgive me) 🌷

Hymnal for Edvard

Small magics are afoot, strange alchemies
turning the sparrows into soothsayers.
The undertaker sheds his soot-black jacket,
blows the dust off the oaken coffin lid. Planting
flowers into the womb of earth; bluebells, hyacinths,
the old gray widow. They will come again next year
because they always do. Because they know
no other way but up up up, daffodils raising their heads
toward the sulfur-pheasant sun. A shovel that gleams golden
in the noon-light, a spasmic stirring of wings
in your full belly’s aviary. Bees sweeping out
their honeycombs with spidery twig-haired brooms.
Roadkill unfolds itself from the warming asphalt like tulips,
innards flapping petal-like in the mild March breeze.
Sap, blood, and dew clot into sonnets
on the meadow of our wet pink tongues.
Our breath is enough to make us holy, our blood-
scorched palms always grasping for something,
our cruel exalted wants. How magnificent is our fallibility,
our bodies that vessel the light. Frail but feral as foxes,
we climb on the highest cherry tree branches
to swallow big gulps of the sky.
We stretch our limbs heavenwards always, even from
the sepulcher below. Where we stick our roots is a pear tree
orchard that never runs out of fruit. Who knows
where they end, if ever. Spring days, lambed love,
the apple core of ourselves — these things don’t perish but ripen
buried under moon and mud. Worms and saplings, the red
breast of a robin feasted upon by ants. Bones that remember
they were forged to soar. Mushrooms pushing
through a corpse’s eye, violets crowning the guts.
The language of spring is persistence, a reawakening
of rot into bloom. A sempiternal offering of trust
to be carried by wind and wing. The stubborn belief of a calf
to always be born head-first.
From deep beneath, the lovely dead
tickle the crocus shoots out of the dampened soil,
coax the grass to sprout. Blackbirds in the ruined church spires,
mouths that know nothing but song. You look into the bell
of a …

8326

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 28/03/2026

March hare’s rabbit hole the mischievous gleam in a daisy’s eyes #haiku

A scene from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. Alice, followed by her cat Dinah, crouches down and looks into a rabbit hole. They are surrounded by green fields, trees, and daisies.

0241

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 26/03/2026

accidentally brushing hands with summer seashell in my bag #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt (I collected this little shell last summer when me & my best friend went on vacation to the North Sea together & now I always carry it with me in my bag ♡)

A little white seashell on a pink background in front of a white snow globe with a seahorse in it.

1355

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 25/03/2026

the tales of the woods kept alive in warbler’s lungs little forest bard #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt (In German, the warbler is called „Waldsänger“, which means forest singer) #photography Pat Shaw / Jeff Brooks

A warbler on a thin branch with pink flowers. The warbler’s head is yellow with black markings around the eyes. Its body is mostly black with grey/white marks. It looks like the belly is mostly yellow with black marks.

A warbler on the branch of a flowering pear tree. The bird looks tiny and round and has a bright yellow color.

29924

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 22/03/2026

Lagging behind again but here’s my submission for #PoemsAbout #Melt ✨ for @thebrokenspine.co.uk & @alanparrywriter.co.uk Pretty busy at the moment but will try reading everybody’s contributions over the next week xoxo 🫶🏻

Lolita in Starlight

He melts in my mouth and I swallow
everything, everything, everything.
Like stracciatella ice cream
or one of those pills. Like a communion
wafer. Cherries and cyanide. I kneel. I pray.
I worship.
Most of the time, I beg.
Sometimes I bite
with my itty-bitty teeth
and then he punishes me swiftly
like one would a naughty dog.
He stops petting, he tightens the leash.
Constricts the collar. And I will whimper
back fast to the altar of his hand
even when it’s shaped like a fist.
Because he shows me the way
from hideousness to holiness,
from rage to revelation,
from schoolgirl to seer.
A bird in a tight hand, squeezed like a doll.
Look at where the worms are squirming,
open your mouth. He teaches me
all the things
I never knew how
and I finally learned that devourment
is just another word for love.
Nymphet to nightingale,
scarlet to saint.
He calls me Lolita
and means stupid and small.
Whatever gets me closer
to the loins of an angel,
whatever gets me farther
away from myself.
He tells me what words to put on my tongue
and they writhe like lilacs and moths.
How nice it is to be nothing, nothing
at all. All my thoughts escape like incense
and I swirl like smoke from his cigarettes.
He is divine through my heart-shaped glasses. He is God between my thighs.
I’m sweet like strawberry soda
laced with sacrilege and sickness.
I’m pretty like a bad bruise, darling
like drugs. I go deep like a fresh wound.
I nest in the flesh. I never heal up.
I’m contagious. I want it
in your blood.
The brain melts into slush. Maggot pink
sorbet.
As gentle as morphine,
as hard as a kiss.

5326

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 21/03/2026

“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life's pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.” — Joseph Addison #photography #dogs #justsmile

Albert (a medium-sized very fluffy black dog) standing on green grass in front of a hedge and several trees. His tongue is out and he looks like he’s smiling.

0220

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 20/03/2026

narcissus flower rising toward spring’s new moon persephone’s scepter #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt (equinox) *Equinox symbolizes Persephone’s return from the underworld, marking growth & renewal. The narcissus is associated with her bc it was the lure that Hades used to abduct her. #art Niall Grant

A black & white illustration of Persephone wearing a flower crown, surrounded by flowers. A crescent moon is in the sky.

0356

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 15/03/2026

@dasfotoprojekt.bsky.social #JedeWocheEinFoto KW 11/26 Ein Foto aus dem Archiv das mindestens 10 Jahre alt ist. / A picture from the archives that’s at least 10 years old. Ihr Name war Biene. / Her name was Bee. Rest in peace, little one. 🐝🌈 März 2016 #photography #dogs

A little black dog in a field of green grass and small white flowers. Next to her is a little white ball.

3422

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 15/03/2026

Late (again) but here is one for #PoemsAbout #Consent ✨ for @thebrokenspine.co.uk & @alanparrywriter.co.uk The things you did not consent to and the marks they’ve made. This is about a very dear friend. Thank you to paulrapley.bsky.social for inspiring me to try writing in 3rd person 🫶🏻

Taint

She returns to what has assumed
the name of home. Stray light,
the bedroom devoid
of him. She undresses, de-leaves
like an autumnal tree. All the layers
and what they have to hide.
The bare bones underneath, quivering.
Longing for birds. She dreams the wood
infested with bugs, their mandibles
sawing up the sun-shy soft
flesh beneath the bark. Maggots
in her shoes. Worms in her hair.
No space left unviolated.
Irreverence and sacrilege.
She did not choose that storm.

All that has been touched has turned
itself wrong and inside out, has filled
itself with the immeasurable weight
of disgust, dirt, and days
piling up like stones.

The body counted in stretch marks
trying to cover all that ache.

The bathroom. The sink. The holy water.
Things can be so clean and white
and yet so stained with empty.
She scrubs her hands ‘til sunset sings
because blood is the best disinfectant.
The sterile speech of razor blades
listing immutable facts. You are soiled.
You are nothing. The limbs of a doll
that go slack in an angry child’s grasp.
Maybe under the raw
red flesh, some splinter of you
remains.

Fingers draw lines in ink and shame
on a girl that did not want them.
The stains that are sins without a chance
of repentance or redemption or grace.
The smudges that never
come off again, the things that rot
underground.

She had never known how the morning dew
could become the sweat of fear
or how all the stardust in the world
could clot into dust and filth.

5326

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 14/03/2026

Finally got the lovely #PoetryForPets anthology by melruthwrites.bsky.social There’s so much great poetry inside by so many amazing writers. So if you like poetry and/or animals, consider getting a copy because all proceeds go to Buffalo Pug and Small Breed Rescue! Available on Amazon ♡

The Poetry for Pets Anthology with a very cute black pug on the cover.

A page with haikus from the anthology:

Ray Hourigan

No joy like it, the
Dog leaped and rolled, revelled in
Snowy merriment.

Michael Aaron Harrington

broken gutter—
dog flinches
at falling coins

John Chmura

twin lanterns
the orange sunset
through a puppy’s ears

Robin J. Philips

balmy winter porch
sun melts rooftop icicles
dog stretches at my feet

1120

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 07/03/2026

#CurrentlyReading ‘The Night Circus’ by Erin Morgenstern “We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.” #BookSky 📚 #books

A photograph of the book The Night Circus on a dark wooden bed table. The book lies on a book bag that has the phases of the moon on it and on the book is a silver bookmark with a crescent moon and on the bookmark is an antique golden key.

2220

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 27/02/2026

For #PoemsAbout #Spent ✨ for @thebrokenspine.co.uk & @alanparrywriter.co.uk When you give everything you have but it still isn’t enough.

Selfless // Spent

You lie beside him like a gutted animal.
This needy. This vulnerable. This far gone.

Nothing is as exhausting as opening up,
as making a church of the mess of yourself,
as becoming a light for another.

Ribcage and sanctuary. Shepherding the wayward sheep
back from the storm-clad edge. Him and you
both. Homebound.

You wanted so much to be a morning star
but you’re just the flick of his lighter
with which he immolates you.

You define your worth by how satisfied the hunter is,
how easy the bullet’s job. How small can you make
yourself so you’re not in his way, how fast can you do what he wants.

Now he has rearranged your entrails
to fit more pain inside. But you agree and carry it
even like a crown. Anything, everything
to make him stay; you are out there and dying
just reaching for his hand.

Afterwards, you sob silently behind the bathroom door
as if your sadness was a great secret,
something so dangerous and feral,
you have to keep it hidden and leashed.
Or, worse even, you would be found out, exposed
for the wretched hollow bitch that you are,
a martyr no angel would want.

All you have to offer is the bones of yourself
and isn’t that terrible,
to be so thoroughly you?

All that you are
and were and aspired to be, you have given everything to him.
The myrrh of ruptured spleens and breathless lungs,
the hard gold of marrow. Incense of spit, myth told in freckles
and stretch marks, stuttering. All your unspeakable stories spelled out
scar by never-healed scar.

And yet, he will get up and walk through that door.
And leave, like you’ve never ever happened.

You showed off your best tricks
but you’re still just a dog.

Your hot tears tangle helplessly in his wet hair
like an army of startled fleas.

You stand on the train station platform as it snows.
He kisses you goodbye and it’s like drowning a puppy.
Your teeth clash like barbed wire fences.

He says see you soon and in that moment you know
that there is nothing more cruel
…

10279

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 24/02/2026

through the veil of mist their antlers seem like crowns sylvan princes #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt [ph.: pinterest]

A group of stags (3 standing up, 1 lying down) standing in a field veiled in fog. Image found on Pinterest, unknown photographer.

0310

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 20/02/2026

I know we’re already onto the next theme but I still have a very very late submission for last week’s #PoemsAbout #Undressed ✨ The topic just spoke to me somehow & I wanted to write about what remains when you’ve been completely #undressed to the bones. Faith? Conviction? Or maybe even power?

Lamb After Slaughter

They undress you like this:
First,
the skin peeled back like an apple
with the honey and ants underneath,
sweetness and terror
and an endless fall.
Nerves, second.
All the wasting guts
and promises
and when your body is
a rocking horse, back and forth,
back and forth,
and a toy broken
senseless, discarded in a rage.
You try to shield your eyes
and keep whatever image was in them,
long before, an angel on a bridge
with his hands stretched like ropes.
Your first communion,
a dress as white as maggot flesh.
What is left of you after
everything has been taken out?
The words on the lips of that angel,
go forth, my child, don’t fear.

5295

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 02/01/2026

I am shamelessly copying @stacebot.bsky.social and herewith post an unsolicited poem for #PoemsAbout #NewYear ✨ Y’all are an amazing and incredibly inspiring community and I wish you all the best for the new year. 🫶🏻

New Year’s Resolution

Maybe more a prayer than a resolution
but isn’t everything. Even a wound, even
that concussion that I gave myself
for Christmas. The unforgiving hardness
of a door or a fist or how you left
like a sparrow down a shotgun. Anyway.
The lights are still on
and on and on and I am so holy
and empty as a god. Speaking of:
Dear Lord, please grant me the freedom
and the unashamed strength to write
awful poems. It doesn’t have to be good.
It only has to be true.
Amen.

11508

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 02/01/2026

the shiny thread spanning from year to year your life’s spiderweb #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt #art Tuesday Riddell

An illustration showing a nighttime forest scene, in the middle a spiderweb spans between branches. There are flowers and ferns, moths and worms, and a golden bird.

06515

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 02/01/2026

No cheating, reskeet with the most recent photo of your pet Poor Albert was scared of the fireworks on New Year’s Eve so we built him a little cave ♡

My dog Albert (fluffy, black) resting in his little bed in a blanket cave under a table

1140

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 30/12/2025

her day culminates into one exhausted drag from her cigarette for a flickers she’s a dragon breathing contented ruin #inkMine #tanka #art Camilla d’Errico

An illustration by Camilla d’Errico showing a girl with a little dragon perched on her head. They are both surrounded by plumes of smoke that come out of the dragon’s nostrils.

0241

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 29/12/2025

december cold the foxes draw tighter their chestnut coats #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt #art Mori Raito

An illustration by Mori Raito showing a wintry woodland scene. A woman in a brown dress/coat carrying a lantern walks through the snow in a nighttime forest with the full moon visible between the trees. A small fox accompanies her.

0444

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 29/12/2025

categorized by the government as “problematic” and in spite of much protest was shot in June 2006 💔 Now he is displayed in a museum in Munich, poor thing.

The taxidermied body of Bruno the brown bear displayed in a German museum.

110

lichtbringer @saintghost.bsky.social · 28/12/2025

my phone thinks my dog is a bear Siri is drunk #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt Amerikanischer Schwarzbär = American black bear 🐻

A screenshot of a picture of my dog Albert sitting in front of a green bush with the automatic identification thingy on the phone thinking the image shows an American black bear

3301