Robert J. W.
@robertjw4688.bsky.social
Poet, writer, artist, mental health warrior/advocate
Pinned
Robert J. W.
@robertjw4688.bsky.social
· Aug 21
TODAY IS THE DAY! My new #poetry collection, The Line Breaks Between Lives, is out now! I've put so much effort into this one; it's beautiful, it's ugly, it's witty. It bares teeth and blooms flowers!
www.amazon.com/Line-Breaks-...
www.amazon.com/Line-Breaks-...
Reposted by Robert J. W.
If you're not still learning and growing, you're already dead.
January 17, 2026 at 10:34 AM
If you're not still learning and growing, you're already dead.
I've been doing this new (to me) thing where, immediately after waking, I go on my porch with a cup of water and just ground myself for a few minutes. I think it's helping!
#emoetry #uncertainty #vss365 #heartfelt #poetry
#emoetry #uncertainty #vss365 #heartfelt #poetry
January 15, 2026 at 2:11 PM
I've been doing this new (to me) thing where, immediately after waking, I go on my porch with a cup of water and just ground myself for a few minutes. I think it's helping!
#emoetry #uncertainty #vss365 #heartfelt #poetry
#emoetry #uncertainty #vss365 #heartfelt #poetry
January 11, 2026 at 1:50 PM
I bit the bullet and made a Substack page! Feel free to follow if you're interested!
www.substack.com/@robertjw4688
www.substack.com/@robertjw4688
Robert J. W. | Substack
www.substack.com
January 9, 2026 at 5:19 PM
I bit the bullet and made a Substack page! Feel free to follow if you're interested!
www.substack.com/@robertjw4688
www.substack.com/@robertjw4688
SURVIVE AND THRIVE
Adorn yourself
in the purity of sky
and whisper your everything
to the nonchalant wind.
You are the savior
that frolics through
the daydream of the universe
and with the knowledge
of a healing wound,
you write
"survive and thrive"
in the smoky air.
#vss365 #emoetry #poetry
Adorn yourself
in the purity of sky
and whisper your everything
to the nonchalant wind.
You are the savior
that frolics through
the daydream of the universe
and with the knowledge
of a healing wound,
you write
"survive and thrive"
in the smoky air.
#vss365 #emoetry #poetry
January 8, 2026 at 2:34 PM
Reposted by Robert J. W.
she was a poet
among other things
where do the poems
go when the poet
has been killed?
I picture the snow
in Minnesota
falling on a lake
and want to write
her name—
Renee—
on its cold
white page
among other things
where do the poems
go when the poet
has been killed?
I picture the snow
in Minnesota
falling on a lake
and want to write
her name—
Renee—
on its cold
white page
January 8, 2026 at 12:59 AM
she was a poet
among other things
where do the poems
go when the poet
has been killed?
I picture the snow
in Minnesota
falling on a lake
and want to write
her name—
Renee—
on its cold
white page
among other things
where do the poems
go when the poet
has been killed?
I picture the snow
in Minnesota
falling on a lake
and want to write
her name—
Renee—
on its cold
white page
January 7, 2026 at 1:55 PM
Reposted by Robert J. W.
It's hard to contain
their mess with words
the old ones hold
too much respect
while the new ones flap
like car store balloons.
Can someone
lend me a word
that fits?
This feeling we have
this feeling—
this awful, modern,
bewildered trip
of sliding through vomit
while checking
our phones.
their mess with words
the old ones hold
too much respect
while the new ones flap
like car store balloons.
Can someone
lend me a word
that fits?
This feeling we have
this feeling—
this awful, modern,
bewildered trip
of sliding through vomit
while checking
our phones.
January 7, 2026 at 1:32 PM
It's hard to contain
their mess with words
the old ones hold
too much respect
while the new ones flap
like car store balloons.
Can someone
lend me a word
that fits?
This feeling we have
this feeling—
this awful, modern,
bewildered trip
of sliding through vomit
while checking
our phones.
their mess with words
the old ones hold
too much respect
while the new ones flap
like car store balloons.
Can someone
lend me a word
that fits?
This feeling we have
this feeling—
this awful, modern,
bewildered trip
of sliding through vomit
while checking
our phones.
January 5, 2026 at 2:13 PM
I refuse to play a fiddle.
I'll continue to play my games
with a smile
and invite you in
so you can see
that buried beneath
the pundits and doomsayers
is an angel's poem
that we can read
until the heart softens
and drapes over the world.
#poetry
I'll continue to play my games
with a smile
and invite you in
so you can see
that buried beneath
the pundits and doomsayers
is an angel's poem
that we can read
until the heart softens
and drapes over the world.
#poetry
January 4, 2026 at 3:14 PM
I refuse to play a fiddle.
I'll continue to play my games
with a smile
and invite you in
so you can see
that buried beneath
the pundits and doomsayers
is an angel's poem
that we can read
until the heart softens
and drapes over the world.
#poetry
I'll continue to play my games
with a smile
and invite you in
so you can see
that buried beneath
the pundits and doomsayers
is an angel's poem
that we can read
until the heart softens
and drapes over the world.
#poetry
Another poem that exceeds the character limit but I feel this is one of my more important messages. I also feel it'll strike some nerves but oh well. We must have hope or they will win.
#poetry
#poetry
January 3, 2026 at 6:54 PM
Another poem that exceeds the character limit but I feel this is one of my more important messages. I also feel it'll strike some nerves but oh well. We must have hope or they will win.
#poetry
#poetry
Reposted by Robert J. W.
the remains of fear
d e p a r t
when we speak of love;
eyes sparkle—
a profusion of colour;
we d r i f t—
as we float, every current
stronger
than before
into oceans of blue.
#poetry
d e p a r t
when we speak of love;
eyes sparkle—
a profusion of colour;
we d r i f t—
as we float, every current
stronger
than before
into oceans of blue.
#poetry
January 3, 2026 at 6:50 PM
the remains of fear
d e p a r t
when we speak of love;
eyes sparkle—
a profusion of colour;
we d r i f t—
as we float, every current
stronger
than before
into oceans of blue.
#poetry
d e p a r t
when we speak of love;
eyes sparkle—
a profusion of colour;
we d r i f t—
as we float, every current
stronger
than before
into oceans of blue.
#poetry
Swallowed keys
churn the stomach
into frost.
The repeated motions
of survival
dilute life
until only pennies
rise to the surface.
There is no glory
in the shivering white flag.
Maybe tomorrow,
the air will flow
instead of weighing down
like a cement world.
#poetry
churn the stomach
into frost.
The repeated motions
of survival
dilute life
until only pennies
rise to the surface.
There is no glory
in the shivering white flag.
Maybe tomorrow,
the air will flow
instead of weighing down
like a cement world.
#poetry
January 3, 2026 at 2:42 PM
Swallowed keys
churn the stomach
into frost.
The repeated motions
of survival
dilute life
until only pennies
rise to the surface.
There is no glory
in the shivering white flag.
Maybe tomorrow,
the air will flow
instead of weighing down
like a cement world.
#poetry
churn the stomach
into frost.
The repeated motions
of survival
dilute life
until only pennies
rise to the surface.
There is no glory
in the shivering white flag.
Maybe tomorrow,
the air will flow
instead of weighing down
like a cement world.
#poetry
Reposted by Robert J. W.
as if wrapped in an adumbrate of a poplar seed
a Winter fae darts and dives the light outside my window
a Winter fae darts and dives the light outside my window
January 3, 2026 at 2:19 PM
as if wrapped in an adumbrate of a poplar seed
a Winter fae darts and dives the light outside my window
a Winter fae darts and dives the light outside my window