Ann Tigone
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anntigone.bsky.social
Ann Tigone
@anntigone.bsky.social
2K followers 3.7K following 4.6K posts
Poet. Movie geek. Dramatic but lazy. Wistfully nonchalant. Passionately disinterested in oxymorons.
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anntigone.bsky.social
Ann Tigone @anntigone.bsky.social · 9h
#poemsabout #undressed
Reposted by Ann Tigone
daveashleypoet.bsky.social
#poemsabout #undressed #viator #poem #promptcombo #desire
February 12, 2026 at 10:30 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
johnchmura.bsky.social
#PoemsAbout #Undressed @thebrokenspine.co.uk
I will put a reading in the comments:
SURPRISE, ARIZONA, surprise, America! Don’t be shocked when your inalienable rights are gutted and docked, when your wounds fester undressed to pay for those considered more blessed and Trump invokes without cause the (White) Supremacy Clause and the only protections you can Depend on to Prevail are His Heinous’s undies in the diaper pail, and though that shit may be classified the stink in the West Wing has ossified. This is the new Middle Passage, when we the people buy mega maga warehouses and the American Eichmann, Todd Lyons, doesn’t lie when he says he’s gonna store and mail people like products, and Captain Kristi Nemo dreams she’s sailing the brown bodies south, 20,000 leagues under the law, selling their souls to buy more storage, jettisoning babies like ballast. And human beings are dying and worse, conditions that mimic the sinful ships in the hold of a past far from perfect we believed we had buried in the history books now banned or burned so the children won’t learn of the Clotilda, the Brookes, the Zong, the Wanderer. What’s going on, when far too far from our truths we have wandered and far too much of our treasure is squandered?
February 13, 2026 at 5:21 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
fiftywords.bsky.social
What happens to a saucy postcard when the woman walks out on the gag? #PoemsAbout #Undressed Thanks to @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk
Well, Blow Me She wasn't undressed. She was undone by the breeze. The wind off the promenade had ideas of its own, lifted hems, loosened discipline, persuaded buttons to reconsider their loyalties. Nothing scandalous. Only clothing, briefly indiscreet. A hat went first, cartwheeling toward the pier. Then a towel, suddenly independent, falling to the sand. He stood nearby trying to behave like a lighthouse, upright, firm, wishing for a stronger gust. "Terribly draughty," she said, holding everything in place with one heroic elbow. Even her bathing suit was inclined to misbehave. Just a temporary rearrangement of respectability. A bit of pink will make the boys wink. And when the wind had quite finished, she stepped out of the postcard, and now laughs when the pen is in his hand.
February 13, 2026 at 6:01 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
janpsolivagant.bsky.social
🙏 @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk #PoemsAbout #Undressed

#poetry: ©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025

#TheGaze #Depression #Adolescence #Vulnerability #IngmarBergman #FannyandAlexander
The Gaze Puberty has pounced, Painting my Gauche, Bumbling, Graceless Eleven-year-old self in Ever more egregious, Hormonal hues. A Year passes. We move. Felixstowe Beach, Summer 1983 - Perhaps the last time I would Look good in skinny jeans. Buoyant, voluble interludes Between bouts of familial dysfunction Punctured by a Presence that Only I seem to be aware of. Stranger: pallid, corpulent, Puffy-faced, blank-eyed Forty-year-old mother, Unseasonably clad in Black and brown layers – Mute, motionless, Expressionless, with Evident hair loss. My barely acknowledged Horror, revulsion at finding myself on a Noisy, crowded beach in Summer has likely found its Fleshy form. Simile, analogy Elude me. Incongruity: Not the woman, but the Mirth, Conviviality. Weegee. Coney Island, 1940. Girl flashes a smile at the Camera, while her Drowned boyfriend is tended to by Lifeguards. Muscled, young-buck Rubberneckers glare back at the viewer, Some perhaps in years to come: Corpses themselves – Shot up, charred, washed up - on Utah, Omaha, Iwo Jima beaches. Then I myself am Rubbernecked. Executing a maladroit Manoeuvre under a bathing towel, Changing into or out of trunks, I lock eyes with The Gaze. Her husband, children, My siblings, parents Dissolve into shits and giggles at my Twelve-year-old awkwardness. The Gaze is of those Sunk up to their oxters in Quicksand or slurry, no longer Struggling – but surrendering. Eyes glazed, resigned, but not vacant. I feel Her Gaze is parsing some Hidden portion of my psyche. Three years later, I meet The Gaze again, Watching Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander. © Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025 This time, I’m a teenage Alexander Ekdahl, face to face with Aunt Elsa who – Toad-like, mute, Immobile, bed-ridden - Bodies forth the joyless, oppressive Atmosphere of the Bishop’s house. That year, I’m riveted to my own bed for Days on end by some Malignant sadness. Until my mother literally shakes me Out of it. Years of dysthymia, dislocation, Desolation follow. I scrape through School badly bruised, travel, drift, Make it to university at twenty-one. First-classed, but adrift again, I am Blindsided by the first episode of Major depression at twenty-five - Classic age of onset, apparently. Decades of recurrent bouts ensue. What did The Gaze see all those Years ago? And who was She? Shadow? Kindred Spirit? Malign Twin? Familiar? Witch trapped by a wicked spell? Or simply a clinically depressed Mother on the cusp of midlife? I often feel I was cursed-blessed by That Gaze. Was it imparting some secret Knowledge to my twelve-year-old Self? The Evil Eye, it seems, is Not Always Malevolent. © Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025
February 13, 2026 at 6:46 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
fhpowellwriter.bsky.social
#PoemsAbout #Undressed

@thebrokenspine.co.uk

@alanparrywriter.co.uk
February 13, 2026 at 7:05 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
jenthorne.bsky.social
@thebrokenspine.co.uk

This is the first of two poems I've written for #PoemsAbout #Undressed

#Poetry
Glass The mirror waits outside the bathroom, a cold, unblinking witness. I step into its gaze, light peeling from wet paper skin. Tattoos swim at the surface, belonging to someone else. This undressed figure before me, a scarred, inked map to nowhere, breathing without permission, a creature stitched together from choices I never claimed. My hands hover, useless, their touch foreign. Ribs rise and fall to a rhythm that isn’t mine. The face stares back, eyes like borrowed hollows. I feel myself slipping sideways, out of the bone-and-flesh cage that recoils from warmth. Who owns this shape? Who carved these marks? Who taught this body to flinch from anyone who reaches? I am naked, but not exposed. Only the ghost inside this body, forehead pressed to glass, trying to remember how to live in something I never chose.
February 13, 2026 at 7:30 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
rotherwrites.bsky.social
It's Friday, and #PoemsAbout. Welcome all who write, read, like, comment, share.
I went down a dark path this week for #Undressed, the outcome of watching a documentary series about propaganda; vulnerability from the wrong angle.
After a hasty Thursday rewrite something more mellow emerged.
Kintsugi my thorns swallowed hard spur and wound coiled knotted dug over down plaited a crown sharpness melted scars healed tears forged wabi-sabi lustre fracture and flaw imperfect beauty my gift © Glenn Barker February 2026
February 13, 2026 at 8:04 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
andywilliamson.com
Here's a poem I wrote for this week's #poemsabout #undressed. Thanks @thebrokenspine.co.uk & @alanparrywriter.co.uk for the prompt and everyone for already amazing contributions! #poems #poetry #poetrycommunity
# Sylph You move through half-night, shedding layers. Unseen. Untouchable. Feeling your presence, your almost touch weighs heavy on me as I lie anticipating. You before me, motionless in the stilled night. I feel for my breath. And your breath, warm against my cold skin, calling me toward day’s unknowing.
February 13, 2026 at 8:57 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
davidbirch.bsky.social
Intriguing #PoemsAbout prompt today #Undressed, so it will be fascinating to see what the #PoetryCommunity makes of it. Here's my response, a sideways take on the oldest story of all. Many thanks @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk
February 13, 2026 at 9:06 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
zoomburst.substack.com
#PoemsAbout #Undressed
we decided to undress Each garment was dropped carelessly to the floor as we revealed the secrets of our flesh It took some time Our movements not being as nimble Our limbs not as lithe as before Stiff, feeble fingers fumbled adolescently with buttons, belts and clasps. Until we stood before one another Shrivelled Sagging Slack and In the buzzing glow of the electric fire. Beautiful
February 13, 2026 at 9:28 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
pvcannon.bsky.social
For #PoemsAbout #Undressed
with thanks to @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk
February 13, 2026 at 12:04 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
zentinl.bsky.social
For #PoemsAbout #Undressed. Bows to @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poetrycommunity #poetry #poems #blueskypoets #blueskypoetry
February 13, 2026 at 1:54 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
poetry-with-hart.bsky.social
The second of the two I wrote this week for #poemsabout #undressed. I believe it also incorporates a #horrorprompt from earlier this week of #silentrage, if I'm not mistaken.

@thebrokenspine.co.uk
@alanparrywriter.co.uk

#poem #poetry #poetrycommunity #skypoem #skypoetry
The mirror judged in silence her eye seeing all of me in her glass pain asking without speaking as to why I stood before her, masked and hidden from her gaze. I tried to tell her it was necessary, but necessary for who? I tried to answer it kept me safe but she knew, I was as much a danger to me as anyone else so it was a lie too. I tired to say it was habit, my mother and her mother, we all wore masks carefully constructed calm compliments to the ancestral mask making matron tying our expressions to the needs of others, eyes are the mirrors of the souls, don’t you know? And the mirror laughed a trill of glass striking silver as if to dare me, for once take the mask off. So I did… at least… I tried. But another was under the first and then another and another all with different nicknames different roles different selves to be. I ripped and tore tore and ripped plaster cracking paper mâché crumbling clay paint chip drop smash crack, till finally the last mask shattered concrete on the floor and the face that stared back at me in the mirror’s eye was nothing more than a silent rage.
February 13, 2026 at 2:08 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
poetry-with-hart.bsky.social
Beyond naked,
what exists?
You undress me
yet parts remain
hidden, no one
must ever see.

(Reworked a scrapped start for today's prompts. Kinda fits as a micro eh?)

@blackboughpoetry.bsky.social
@thebrokenspine.co.uk

#fragmentsfriday #poemsabout #undressed #micropoem #micropoetry #poem #poetry
February 13, 2026 at 2:55 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
poetryman1.bsky.social
Here I am, over here! Some good ones this week!

@alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk

#poemsabout #undressed
February 13, 2026 at 4:39 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
rayhourigan.bsky.social
Daylight undressed in
Twilight layers, revealing
Midnight skin beneath.
#PoemsAbout #undressed #haiku #senryu #poem #writing #writingcommunity
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
@alanparrywriter.co.uk
February 13, 2026 at 8:27 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
I heard a voice
upon the wind
it echoed from
somewhere
in the distance

it spoke of things
I'd always wanted
said come
live your dreams

I smiled & said
then my dreams
become whats
in front of me
& other dreams
will call to me
upon the wind

so I'll say here
& leave
my dreams
to dreaming

#mpprompt
malformed-poetry.bsky.social Malachy Moran @malformed-poetry.bsky.social · 4h
Today's #poetryprompt:

Write me a poem about something heard far off in the distance.

#MPPrompt
I repost replies.
Follow for daily prompts
February 13, 2026 at 3:40 PM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
anntigone.bsky.social
To admit the light
A hardened soul learns to yield
Removing armour.

#haikufeels #admit #senryu #haiku
February 13, 2026 at 1:00 PM
anntigone.bsky.social
I lay
within your arms
as if held
by strong
& gentle wings

I got lost
within your kiss
as if the heavens
themselves,
pressed softly
against my lips

I surrendered
without fear,
as if my faith
were a guiding light
straight to your heart.

#sensewrds
Prompt 184
Cozy
Doubtful
Feathers
February 13, 2026 at 11:00 AM
Reposted by Ann Tigone
robertthe.bsky.social
In wanting sunlight
her lips ripen for a kiss
bursting forth with joy

#DailyHaikuPrompt
#ripen
February 13, 2026 at 12:15 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
Raindrops were falling
into the lacuna of me
but you replaced them
with glowing constellations

No easy feat to destroy
several of my jagged edges
bringing them back
to corners round & fluffy

but nothing could tame
my feral soul,
shes dances still,
but not in rain—

'neath contellations.
February 13, 2026 at 10:05 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
A social nightmare
Cold silence, neightbour's flat stare
My joke, way too dark.

#haikuhorrorprompt #FlatStare
#haiku #senryu
February 13, 2026 at 9:09 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
Showed him the scars, said
I want to know what love is
He kissed every one.  

#bedroomeyes #IWantToKnowWhatLoveIs
#haiku #senryu
@oldsoulprose.bsky.social
February 13, 2026 at 9:01 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
That polite unease
Painted smile through gritted teeth
Standard party face. 

#weirdmicro #PoliteUnease #haiku #senryu
February 13, 2026 at 8:50 AM
anntigone.bsky.social
Somewhat gentler sting
To the chill wind, spring clipping
Its icicle wings.

#DailyHaikuPrompt #Wind #Chill #haiku #senryu
February 13, 2026 at 8:49 AM