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Veronika Fuchs

@veronikafuchs.bsky.social
304 followers 196 following 797 posts

Sometimes I write. Mama. Dreamer. Occasional painter.

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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 10/10/2026
I wonder what he's holding in his right hand...
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
*evening, but "everything" is okay, too
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
A golden afternoon (a few days ago) to brighten your day/everything.
A tiered stone waterfall, Japanese stone lantern, pond, and a gray heron, all bathed in golden light
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
Fascinating!
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Ice Floe Press (OPEN for Subs June - July 2026) @icefloepress.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
Today welcome remarkable poet, ice floe #author Lynne Jensen Lampe to our Dis/enchantment/Anomie/Spectacle series. 2 #poems, #haunting interiorized #visions @ljensenlampe.bsky.social w/ #Artpoems by @rfredekenter.bsky.social "Forget the sun ever sunned." icefloepress.net/2026/10/09/l...
icefloepress.net
Lynne Jensen Lampe – Two Poems / Visual Poems – Robert Frede Kenter
Riot the Sky You’ve Tasted You know something of trouble and revolutions, gasoline and spectacle. Abandon law to whirlwind, lock fire. Knot of jealous burning, audit the ordinary who want violence …
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
by Jane Hirshfield
The Lost Love Poems of Sappho

The poems we haven't read 
must be her fiercest: 
imperfect, extreme. 
As it is with love, its nights, its days. 
It stands on the top of the mountain 
and looks for more mountain, steeper pitches. 
Descent a thought impossible to imagine.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
💙✨
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
I shouted for joy. Just like I did in 2020, regarding Louise.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
The final lines from The Lost Suitcase, which Forché dedicated to Simko 🤍
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
from Eros the Bittersweet, the book that made me fall in love with Carson
Finding the Edge 
Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. 
In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between 'I love you' 
and 'I love you too,' the absent presence of desire comes alive. But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me. And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary, I realize I never can. 
Infants begin to see by noticing the edges of things. How do they know an edge is an edge? By passionately 
wanting it not to be. The experience of eros as lack alerts a person to the boundaries of himself, of other people, of things in general. It is the edge separating my tongue from the taste for which it longs that teaches me what an edge is. Like Sappho's adjective glukupikron, the moment of desire is one that defies proper edge, being a compound of opposites forced together at pressure. Pleasure and pain at once register upon the lover, inasmuch as the desirability of the love object derives, in part, from its lack. To whom is it lacking? To the lover. If we follow the trajectory of eros we consistently find it tracing out this same route: it moves out from the lover toward the beloved, then ricochets back to the lover himself and the hole in him, unnoticed before. Who is the real subject of most love poems? Not the beloved. It is that hole. 
When I desire you a part of me is gone
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Jeff Young @wildtwin.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
The 22nd Bird Dream and the 23rd Bird Dream.
Collage of found materials incorporating bird illustrations, fragments of paintings, ink, chalk, turmeric and ash Collage of found materials incorporating bird illustrations, flower drawings, classical images, ink, turmeric, paint, pastels
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Liam Sprod @liamsprod.bsky.social · 09/10/2026
'Melancholia imitatur terram, crescit in autumno, regnat in maturitate.' — ANON., De Mundi constitutione. (MIGNE. P. L., VOL. XC, col. 881D). This cosmology, dating from before 1135, is printed among Bede's works.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 08/10/2026
❤️❤️❤️❤️🌹🌹🌹🌹
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 08/10/2026
Since this appears to be an ongoing thread about angels, Rilke: They all have tired mouths And luminous, illimitable souls; And a longing (as if for sin) Trembles at times through their dreams. (from The Angels, tr. by Jessie Lemont)
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John Latta @lattaj.bsky.social · 08/10/2026
Out of Valeria Luiselli’s tender (and pleasingly Pliny-haunted) novel Beginning Middle End (2026), two lyrical and essayistic outbursts:
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Vikki C. @vikkicwrites.bsky.social · 07/10/2026
Delighted to have a new poem "On Culture: An Assay" in Poetry Online's October 2026 issue — and in wonderfully talented company too! 🤍 🍂 My thanks to editor Tarik Dobbs for giving this piece such a beautiful home 🙏 Read and listen to me read the full piece here: poetry.onl/read/vikki-c
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 07/10/2026
A few beautiful angels I've seen
A funerary monument of an angel with outstretched wings; one hand is pressed to the chest, the other is lowered and holds a bouquet of flowersA statue of a baby angel with its hands folded in prayer and amazingly lifelike eyesA statue of a winged angel with one arm arched above its head and the other, chipped at the wrist, extended downward and forward
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 07/10/2026
The beauty of this!
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poemakontsa @poemakontsa.bsky.social · 06/10/2026
Octavio Paz offers you a hummingbird. Exclamation Tr. Eliot Weinberg Stillness Not on the branch In the air
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Raymond Normielib @raymondgibson.bsky.social · 06/10/2026
Perhaps the roses really want to grow, / The vision seriously intends to stay —W.H. Auden The rose blooms and knows not why, / Unencumbered by itself, oblivious to the eye. —Silesius trans. Gabriel Rosenstock
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 07/10/2026
Amazing!
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 06/10/2026
💙🤗
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 06/10/2026
The most peaceful and memorable ones were those at the old cemetery. Time and space take on dimension there: weathered angels gaze downward, tree roots grow into the graves.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 06/10/2026
Some moments from the weekend's walks 📷 Greg M.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 05/10/2026
"Before death, sleep— or was it death, then sleep?" 💙
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 05/10/2026
💙🤗
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 05/10/2026
The previous line dispels one's hesitation: "Endlessness runs in you like leaves on the tree of night."
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 05/10/2026
Days as if pulled from Anne Carson's Glass, Irony and God: "To live here one must forget much."
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 03/10/2026
Yay! What a relief!
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Sasha Dugdale @sashadugdale.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
After Rilke’s sudden death at the end of 1926, Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva wrote two works addressed to Rilke that sit among the great European modernist poems. You can read my translations of them and a creative essay in Tsvetaeva ‘27 @pavilionpoetry.bsky.social
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Jeff Young @wildtwin.bsky.social · 30/09/2026
The First 21 Bird Dreams.
21 Bird Dream collages on a staircase. The collages are made from found images, ink, charcoal, pastel, crayon and turmeric
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 02/10/2026
WONDERFUL work
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
If you decide to treat them to BASED ON ESQUIRE ARTICLE, I'm sure they'll arrange for coffee to be delivered right to your door 👀😂
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
Stumbled across this by chance on my discover feed! Congratulations and good luck🎉 You must have had quite a bit of coffee. :)
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
There is, I know, a science of separation In night's disheveled elegies, stifled laments, The clockwork oxen jaws, the tense anticipation As the city's vigil nears its sun and end. Osip Mandelstam, from Tristia thanks to @samrasnake.bsky.social theamericanscholar.org/five-poems-o...
theamericanscholar.org
Five Poems - The American Scholar
Translations by Christian Wiman
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Sam Rasnake @samrasnake.bsky.social · 29/09/2026
Osip Mandelstam, “Nowhere Air” Like water trickling from the highest ice Its bracing ache, its brain-shard sweetness, Its nowhere air of utter now, So my sigh has lost its source, And I live by meanings I cannot comprehend, For every instant I must taste the instant that I end. [Tr. C Wiman]
Osip Mandelstam, “Nowhere Air”

Like water trickling from the highest ice
Its bracing ache, its brain-shard sweetness,
Its nowhere air of utter now,
 
So my sigh has lost its source,
And I live by meanings I cannot comprehend,
For every instant I must taste the instant that I end.

[Tr. C Wiman]
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
I remind myself of this—I owe it to myself to remind myself—every time I relive a traumatic experience.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 01/10/2026
October 1st. Honoring the magic of now. Breathing it in. Breathing it out. Now is now is now.
Golden sunrise over a field of wildflowers
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David Luntz @dluntz.bsky.social · 29/09/2026
New micro poem up at @farewelltransmiss.bsky.social farewelltransmission.net/2026/09/no-s...
farewelltransmission.net
No shadows inside the Sun - Farewell Transmission
by David Luntz Church bells blot memory.  A typhoon glazes the sky.  At the wake—incense,  and walk-through saints. I brush the dead man’s hand.  “Don’t go,” he whispers.  “Knit your dreams to mine— m...
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 30/09/2026
🖤
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 30/09/2026
Thank you for sharing. I didn't know about this translation. For such a syntactically complex poem, the translation is simply amazing.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
💙
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Sue Barry-Schulz @susanbarryschulz.com · 26/09/2026
New little collage (from a series using fragment cut from a 1930s children’s English language textbook). 4” x 4” on canvas panel.
Collage assembled from mulberry paper, magazine and catalogue scraps in hues of green and teal with cranberry at the center. A little gold paint over some elements. The phrase “nearly everyone lives in two worlds” cut from a children’s textbook is included.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
❤️✨
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
I hope the sun will soon shine over your shores as well.
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
"I would say this landscape Too is a document. But What is landscape? A procession Across the soul that thinks It's entering something? Then the cold, dunk withdrawal. It's something that can never be read again Or even once." John Ashbery, from "The Foggiest"
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 27/09/2026
So beautiful!
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 26/09/2026
Congratulations! 🎉
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Veronika Fuchs @veronikafuchs.bsky.social · 26/09/2026
@minorfracas.bsky.social
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Christina Tudor-Sideri @dreamsofbeing.bsky.social · 26/09/2026
Rilkean bibliomancy in the afternoon
The Ninth Elegy; translated by Stephen Mitchell
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