Ryan Stephen Thornton
@ryansthornton.bsky.social
Poet sharing all things exotic, erotic, poetic & chaotic. Salt-Rimmed Breath on Jazz-Thigh Gospel OUT NOW
https://linktr.ee/RyanStephenThornton
https://linktr.ee/RyanStephenThornton
Pinned
My poetry collection Salt-Rimmed Breath on Jazz-Thigh Gospel is out now.
It’s messy, maximalist, queer, and sweating through its best shirt.
Poems about desire, shame, grief, arses, ghosts, & the sacred act of wanting too much.
Buy it. Read it. Survive it.
Link in bio.
It’s messy, maximalist, queer, and sweating through its best shirt.
Poems about desire, shame, grief, arses, ghosts, & the sacred act of wanting too much.
Buy it. Read it. Survive it.
Link in bio.
🕯️ SuperNatural KingPin 🕯️
[for Ozzy Osbourne | 1948–2025]
[for Ozzy Osbourne | 1948–2025]
July 22, 2025 at 7:57 PM
🕯️ SuperNatural KingPin 🕯️
[for Ozzy Osbourne | 1948–2025]
[for Ozzy Osbourne | 1948–2025]
✨🧃🌈 DAY 30 — WILD CARD — THE FINAL PRIDE POEM! 🌈🧃✨
today’s prompt is: there is no prompt. today is the wild card, the chaos slot, the glitterbomb finale, the "whatever you want" of prompts. I want your weirdest. your sexiest. your funniest. your proudest. the poem that feels the most you.
today’s prompt is: there is no prompt. today is the wild card, the chaos slot, the glitterbomb finale, the "whatever you want" of prompts. I want your weirdest. your sexiest. your funniest. your proudest. the poem that feels the most you.
June 30, 2025 at 12:46 AM
✨🧃🌈 DAY 30 — WILD CARD — THE FINAL PRIDE POEM! 🌈🧃✨
today’s prompt is: there is no prompt. today is the wild card, the chaos slot, the glitterbomb finale, the "whatever you want" of prompts. I want your weirdest. your sexiest. your funniest. your proudest. the poem that feels the most you.
today’s prompt is: there is no prompt. today is the wild card, the chaos slot, the glitterbomb finale, the "whatever you want" of prompts. I want your weirdest. your sexiest. your funniest. your proudest. the poem that feels the most you.
🩰VERSE TRAP #29: Purge, Polish, or Perform It Again🩰
Inspired by those defiant decades where queerness became survival strategy, political act, and disco-lit elegy—this is for the ones who knew that mourning and movement are not opposites. That joy is a form of resistance.
#VerseTraps2025
Inspired by those defiant decades where queerness became survival strategy, political act, and disco-lit elegy—this is for the ones who knew that mourning and movement are not opposites. That joy is a form of resistance.
#VerseTraps2025
June 29, 2025 at 1:05 AM
🩰VERSE TRAP #29: Purge, Polish, or Perform It Again🩰
Inspired by those defiant decades where queerness became survival strategy, political act, and disco-lit elegy—this is for the ones who knew that mourning and movement are not opposites. That joy is a form of resistance.
#VerseTraps2025
Inspired by those defiant decades where queerness became survival strategy, political act, and disco-lit elegy—this is for the ones who knew that mourning and movement are not opposites. That joy is a form of resistance.
#VerseTraps2025
🟣🕺💚
VERSE TRAP #28: CUBAN PETE & THE POETRY OF POP!
💚🕺🟣
🎺 cue cymbal crash / cue thigh-high chub-rub skirt spin at 40rpm
💥 cue accordion chest / cue chandelier-high grinning / cue desire lit in flashing bulbs—TEN FEET HIGH!
get feral with it.
make it spiral.
make it blush through green rubber.
VERSE TRAP #28: CUBAN PETE & THE POETRY OF POP!
💚🕺🟣
🎺 cue cymbal crash / cue thigh-high chub-rub skirt spin at 40rpm
💥 cue accordion chest / cue chandelier-high grinning / cue desire lit in flashing bulbs—TEN FEET HIGH!
get feral with it.
make it spiral.
make it blush through green rubber.
June 28, 2025 at 12:18 AM
🟣🕺💚
VERSE TRAP #28: CUBAN PETE & THE POETRY OF POP!
💚🕺🟣
🎺 cue cymbal crash / cue thigh-high chub-rub skirt spin at 40rpm
💥 cue accordion chest / cue chandelier-high grinning / cue desire lit in flashing bulbs—TEN FEET HIGH!
get feral with it.
make it spiral.
make it blush through green rubber.
VERSE TRAP #28: CUBAN PETE & THE POETRY OF POP!
💚🕺🟣
🎺 cue cymbal crash / cue thigh-high chub-rub skirt spin at 40rpm
💥 cue accordion chest / cue chandelier-high grinning / cue desire lit in flashing bulbs—TEN FEET HIGH!
get feral with it.
make it spiral.
make it blush through green rubber.
🛼✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-SEVEN✨🛼
Today’s poem is a checklist for disaster. A manifesto in bubblegum.
A to-do list scrawled in glitter pen on the inside of your thigh.
Make it read like a dare. Like a memory you haven't had yet.
Let it flirt, bite, heal, hex, and roller skate.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s poem is a checklist for disaster. A manifesto in bubblegum.
A to-do list scrawled in glitter pen on the inside of your thigh.
Make it read like a dare. Like a memory you haven't had yet.
Let it flirt, bite, heal, hex, and roller skate.
#VerseTraps2025
June 26, 2025 at 11:14 PM
🛼✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-SEVEN✨🛼
Today’s poem is a checklist for disaster. A manifesto in bubblegum.
A to-do list scrawled in glitter pen on the inside of your thigh.
Make it read like a dare. Like a memory you haven't had yet.
Let it flirt, bite, heal, hex, and roller skate.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s poem is a checklist for disaster. A manifesto in bubblegum.
A to-do list scrawled in glitter pen on the inside of your thigh.
Make it read like a dare. Like a memory you haven't had yet.
Let it flirt, bite, heal, hex, and roller skate.
#VerseTraps2025
🌈✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-SIX✨🌈
Today’s prompt is a love letter to a broken hyperlink in your brain.
A soft static where something used to be.
You remember them—sort of. Or maybe they were you.
Let’s glitch—and forget why we walked into the room.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is a love letter to a broken hyperlink in your brain.
A soft static where something used to be.
You remember them—sort of. Or maybe they were you.
Let’s glitch—and forget why we walked into the room.
#VerseTraps2025
June 25, 2025 at 11:45 PM
🌈✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-SIX✨🌈
Today’s prompt is a love letter to a broken hyperlink in your brain.
A soft static where something used to be.
You remember them—sort of. Or maybe they were you.
Let’s glitch—and forget why we walked into the room.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is a love letter to a broken hyperlink in your brain.
A soft static where something used to be.
You remember them—sort of. Or maybe they were you.
Let’s glitch—and forget why we walked into the room.
#VerseTraps2025
🃏✨ VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-FIVE ✨🃏
(This is the one I’ve been waiting for!!)
Today’s prompt is chaos in a beer garden.
Let this be your permission slip to get absolutely feral with it.
Let’s write the poem that only these 3 things could make happen. Let’s go full goblin mode.
#VerseTraps2025
(This is the one I’ve been waiting for!!)
Today’s prompt is chaos in a beer garden.
Let this be your permission slip to get absolutely feral with it.
Let’s write the poem that only these 3 things could make happen. Let’s go full goblin mode.
#VerseTraps2025
June 24, 2025 at 11:42 PM
🃏✨ VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-FIVE ✨🃏
(This is the one I’ve been waiting for!!)
Today’s prompt is chaos in a beer garden.
Let this be your permission slip to get absolutely feral with it.
Let’s write the poem that only these 3 things could make happen. Let’s go full goblin mode.
#VerseTraps2025
(This is the one I’ve been waiting for!!)
Today’s prompt is chaos in a beer garden.
Let this be your permission slip to get absolutely feral with it.
Let’s write the poem that only these 3 things could make happen. Let’s go full goblin mode.
#VerseTraps2025
🌈✨ VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-FOUR ✨🌈
The theatre of the heart is velvet-lined, overacted, and playing to a half-empty room. Today’s prompt is built on the bones of a showtune—and this time, the spotlight hurts.
📬 Share via Substack chat or DM.
📅 Deadline for all submissions: June 30
The theatre of the heart is velvet-lined, overacted, and playing to a half-empty room. Today’s prompt is built on the bones of a showtune—and this time, the spotlight hurts.
📬 Share via Substack chat or DM.
📅 Deadline for all submissions: June 30
June 23, 2025 at 11:13 PM
🌈✨ VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-FOUR ✨🌈
The theatre of the heart is velvet-lined, overacted, and playing to a half-empty room. Today’s prompt is built on the bones of a showtune—and this time, the spotlight hurts.
📬 Share via Substack chat or DM.
📅 Deadline for all submissions: June 30
The theatre of the heart is velvet-lined, overacted, and playing to a half-empty room. Today’s prompt is built on the bones of a showtune—and this time, the spotlight hurts.
📬 Share via Substack chat or DM.
📅 Deadline for all submissions: June 30
🌞✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-THREE✨🌞
Today’s prompt is for the kids we used to be.
The feral ones. The barefoot ones.
The ones who scraped their knees on curbs
and thought summer might never end.
Let’s trap time. Let’s run until the sky forgets our names.
Let’s verse trap.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is for the kids we used to be.
The feral ones. The barefoot ones.
The ones who scraped their knees on curbs
and thought summer might never end.
Let’s trap time. Let’s run until the sky forgets our names.
Let’s verse trap.
#VerseTraps2025
June 22, 2025 at 11:21 PM
🌞✨VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-THREE✨🌞
Today’s prompt is for the kids we used to be.
The feral ones. The barefoot ones.
The ones who scraped their knees on curbs
and thought summer might never end.
Let’s trap time. Let’s run until the sky forgets our names.
Let’s verse trap.
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is for the kids we used to be.
The feral ones. The barefoot ones.
The ones who scraped their knees on curbs
and thought summer might never end.
Let’s trap time. Let’s run until the sky forgets our names.
Let’s verse trap.
#VerseTraps2025
✨ VERSE TRAP 2025 — DAY 22 ✨
🧷 PROMPT #22:
Write a poem that spills everything you really meant.
Not the words you said—
but what was stitched between them.
Let the subtext be the main text.
Let the phone ring.
Let her pick up—
or not.
✨ #VerseTrap2025
🧷 PROMPT #22:
Write a poem that spills everything you really meant.
Not the words you said—
but what was stitched between them.
Let the subtext be the main text.
Let the phone ring.
Let her pick up—
or not.
✨ #VerseTrap2025
June 21, 2025 at 11:15 PM
✨ VERSE TRAP 2025 — DAY 22 ✨
🧷 PROMPT #22:
Write a poem that spills everything you really meant.
Not the words you said—
but what was stitched between them.
Let the subtext be the main text.
Let the phone ring.
Let her pick up—
or not.
✨ #VerseTrap2025
🧷 PROMPT #22:
Write a poem that spills everything you really meant.
Not the words you said—
but what was stitched between them.
Let the subtext be the main text.
Let the phone ring.
Let her pick up—
or not.
✨ #VerseTrap2025
🌈🔥 VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-ONE 🔥🌈
Today's prompt is for the ones who talk too much because they’re scared to say the one thing that matters.
For the overthinkers, the flirters, the ones who turn small talk into survival tactics.
#VerseTraps2025
Today's prompt is for the ones who talk too much because they’re scared to say the one thing that matters.
For the overthinkers, the flirters, the ones who turn small talk into survival tactics.
#VerseTraps2025
June 21, 2025 at 12:21 AM
🌈🔥 VERSE TRAPS 2025: DAY TWENTY-ONE 🔥🌈
Today's prompt is for the ones who talk too much because they’re scared to say the one thing that matters.
For the overthinkers, the flirters, the ones who turn small talk into survival tactics.
#VerseTraps2025
Today's prompt is for the ones who talk too much because they’re scared to say the one thing that matters.
For the overthinkers, the flirters, the ones who turn small talk into survival tactics.
#VerseTraps2025
Verse Traps 2025 - DAY 20
it’s sticky with glitter, dimly lit, slightly horny, and probably located at the back of a house party where someone’s reciting Maggie Nelson in the kitchen while you pretend to be chill in the hallway. You're fooling no-one.
it’s sticky with glitter, dimly lit, slightly horny, and probably located at the back of a house party where someone’s reciting Maggie Nelson in the kitchen while you pretend to be chill in the hallway. You're fooling no-one.
June 20, 2025 at 1:26 AM
Verse Traps 2025 - DAY 20
it’s sticky with glitter, dimly lit, slightly horny, and probably located at the back of a house party where someone’s reciting Maggie Nelson in the kitchen while you pretend to be chill in the hallway. You're fooling no-one.
it’s sticky with glitter, dimly lit, slightly horny, and probably located at the back of a house party where someone’s reciting Maggie Nelson in the kitchen while you pretend to be chill in the hallway. You're fooling no-one.
🕺 Day 19 – Verse Trap Poetry Prompt
💥 Today I want hips. I want limbs. This one’s about what lives just beneath your skin and what gets released when it starts to move.
So… what does your body say when the lights go down?
💥 Today I want hips. I want limbs. This one’s about what lives just beneath your skin and what gets released when it starts to move.
So… what does your body say when the lights go down?
June 18, 2025 at 11:37 PM
🕺 Day 19 – Verse Trap Poetry Prompt
💥 Today I want hips. I want limbs. This one’s about what lives just beneath your skin and what gets released when it starts to move.
So… what does your body say when the lights go down?
💥 Today I want hips. I want limbs. This one’s about what lives just beneath your skin and what gets released when it starts to move.
So… what does your body say when the lights go down?
✨ Day 18 of Verse Trap is a full-body dessert hallucination. ✨
Think sugar. Think sweat. Think sensation that sticks to the spoon.
Now it’s your turn.
Write a poem that tastes like skin and smells like icing. Lick the metaphor. Suck the symbolism. Set something on fire. Flambé, baby!
Think sugar. Think sweat. Think sensation that sticks to the spoon.
Now it’s your turn.
Write a poem that tastes like skin and smells like icing. Lick the metaphor. Suck the symbolism. Set something on fire. Flambé, baby!
June 17, 2025 at 11:02 PM
✨ Day 18 of Verse Trap is a full-body dessert hallucination. ✨
Think sugar. Think sweat. Think sensation that sticks to the spoon.
Now it’s your turn.
Write a poem that tastes like skin and smells like icing. Lick the metaphor. Suck the symbolism. Set something on fire. Flambé, baby!
Think sugar. Think sweat. Think sensation that sticks to the spoon.
Now it’s your turn.
Write a poem that tastes like skin and smells like icing. Lick the metaphor. Suck the symbolism. Set something on fire. Flambé, baby!
VERSE TRAPS 2025 — DAY 17
This is about collarbones & fingertips,
knees knocking in hallway light,
the slow lean-in of a shoulder you almost trusted.
Write me a poem where the kiss happens
somewhere else. Everywhere else.
Write the eclipse before the moon even moves.
This is about collarbones & fingertips,
knees knocking in hallway light,
the slow lean-in of a shoulder you almost trusted.
Write me a poem where the kiss happens
somewhere else. Everywhere else.
Write the eclipse before the moon even moves.
June 17, 2025 at 1:25 AM
VERSE TRAPS 2025 — DAY 17
This is about collarbones & fingertips,
knees knocking in hallway light,
the slow lean-in of a shoulder you almost trusted.
Write me a poem where the kiss happens
somewhere else. Everywhere else.
Write the eclipse before the moon even moves.
This is about collarbones & fingertips,
knees knocking in hallway light,
the slow lean-in of a shoulder you almost trusted.
Write me a poem where the kiss happens
somewhere else. Everywhere else.
Write the eclipse before the moon even moves.
🧥 Day 16: Verse Trap Poetry Prompt 🧥
Write a poem from the POV of your favourite item of clothing.
(The crop top knows things. The hoodie forgives. The jockstrap remembers everything.)
Write a poem from the POV of your favourite item of clothing.
(The crop top knows things. The hoodie forgives. The jockstrap remembers everything.)
June 16, 2025 at 12:17 AM
🧥 Day 16: Verse Trap Poetry Prompt 🧥
Write a poem from the POV of your favourite item of clothing.
(The crop top knows things. The hoodie forgives. The jockstrap remembers everything.)
Write a poem from the POV of your favourite item of clothing.
(The crop top knows things. The hoodie forgives. The jockstrap remembers everything.)
🧵 DAY 15: Verse Trap Prompt 🧵
Today’s prompt is a celebration of lineage and literary inheritance:
📖 Choose a line from a classic poem (e.g. Dickinson, Whitman, Sappho — or go rogue: Ginsberg, Catullus, Wilde, Bishop, Duffy, Audre Lorde, whoever you want) and write a response.
Today’s prompt is a celebration of lineage and literary inheritance:
📖 Choose a line from a classic poem (e.g. Dickinson, Whitman, Sappho — or go rogue: Ginsberg, Catullus, Wilde, Bishop, Duffy, Audre Lorde, whoever you want) and write a response.
June 14, 2025 at 11:28 PM
🧵 DAY 15: Verse Trap Prompt 🧵
Today’s prompt is a celebration of lineage and literary inheritance:
📖 Choose a line from a classic poem (e.g. Dickinson, Whitman, Sappho — or go rogue: Ginsberg, Catullus, Wilde, Bishop, Duffy, Audre Lorde, whoever you want) and write a response.
Today’s prompt is a celebration of lineage and literary inheritance:
📖 Choose a line from a classic poem (e.g. Dickinson, Whitman, Sappho — or go rogue: Ginsberg, Catullus, Wilde, Bishop, Duffy, Audre Lorde, whoever you want) and write a response.
I’m resisting the temptation to write anything about Sabrina Carpenter, so here’s a poem instead.
June 14, 2025 at 3:09 AM
I’m resisting the temptation to write anything about Sabrina Carpenter, so here’s a poem instead.
Day 14 Prompt
— The post-Pride come down
— The morning after sex, scrubbing off perfume
— The "don’t text him again" bath, rinsing off the last of your restraint.
— Or yes, Saltburn: mouth on the rim, Sophie Ellis-Bextor in your ears, shame & want spinning down the pipes.
— The post-Pride come down
— The morning after sex, scrubbing off perfume
— The "don’t text him again" bath, rinsing off the last of your restraint.
— Or yes, Saltburn: mouth on the rim, Sophie Ellis-Bextor in your ears, shame & want spinning down the pipes.
June 14, 2025 at 1:17 AM
Day 14 Prompt
— The post-Pride come down
— The morning after sex, scrubbing off perfume
— The "don’t text him again" bath, rinsing off the last of your restraint.
— Or yes, Saltburn: mouth on the rim, Sophie Ellis-Bextor in your ears, shame & want spinning down the pipes.
— The post-Pride come down
— The morning after sex, scrubbing off perfume
— The "don’t text him again" bath, rinsing off the last of your restraint.
— Or yes, Saltburn: mouth on the rim, Sophie Ellis-Bextor in your ears, shame & want spinning down the pipes.
I’m not lazy, I’m in a deep state of pre-movement contemplation.
June 13, 2025 at 2:11 AM
I’m not lazy, I’m in a deep state of pre-movement contemplation.
Verse Trap #13 is (a)live! 🪩🖋️
Today's example poem → “Flirting With My Reflection” (a tiny poem of daft joy & self-flirtation because sometimes the best ex is the one in the mirror you outgrew 🪞).
#VerseTraps2025 #PrideMonthPoetry #QueerPoetry #PoetryPrompt
Today's example poem → “Flirting With My Reflection” (a tiny poem of daft joy & self-flirtation because sometimes the best ex is the one in the mirror you outgrew 🪞).
#VerseTraps2025 #PrideMonthPoetry #QueerPoetry #PoetryPrompt
June 13, 2025 at 12:04 AM
Verse Trap #13 is (a)live! 🪩🖋️
Today's example poem → “Flirting With My Reflection” (a tiny poem of daft joy & self-flirtation because sometimes the best ex is the one in the mirror you outgrew 🪞).
#VerseTraps2025 #PrideMonthPoetry #QueerPoetry #PoetryPrompt
Today's example poem → “Flirting With My Reflection” (a tiny poem of daft joy & self-flirtation because sometimes the best ex is the one in the mirror you outgrew 🪞).
#VerseTraps2025 #PrideMonthPoetry #QueerPoetry #PoetryPrompt
For Brian Wilson. For the first time you ever heard a Beach Boys song in real stereo headphones— and it felt like all your summers looping at once.
This is Wouldn’t It Be Nice? — a poem that tries to sound the way those songs feel: layered, ecstatic, endless.
round round get around — I get around.
This is Wouldn’t It Be Nice? — a poem that tries to sound the way those songs feel: layered, ecstatic, endless.
round round get around — I get around.
June 12, 2025 at 2:39 AM
For Brian Wilson. For the first time you ever heard a Beach Boys song in real stereo headphones— and it felt like all your summers looping at once.
This is Wouldn’t It Be Nice? — a poem that tries to sound the way those songs feel: layered, ecstatic, endless.
round round get around — I get around.
This is Wouldn’t It Be Nice? — a poem that tries to sound the way those songs feel: layered, ecstatic, endless.
round round get around — I get around.
✨ VERSE TRAPS DAY 12 ✨
I knew this one was going to bring out the yearning poets in the room. The feral ones. The soft ones. The ones who crave and carve and wait. Think hunger as yearning, glow as exposure. What makes you ache to touch? What makes you luminous from the inside out?
I knew this one was going to bring out the yearning poets in the room. The feral ones. The soft ones. The ones who crave and carve and wait. Think hunger as yearning, glow as exposure. What makes you ache to touch? What makes you luminous from the inside out?
June 11, 2025 at 11:53 PM
✨ VERSE TRAPS DAY 12 ✨
I knew this one was going to bring out the yearning poets in the room. The feral ones. The soft ones. The ones who crave and carve and wait. Think hunger as yearning, glow as exposure. What makes you ache to touch? What makes you luminous from the inside out?
I knew this one was going to bring out the yearning poets in the room. The feral ones. The soft ones. The ones who crave and carve and wait. Think hunger as yearning, glow as exposure. What makes you ache to touch? What makes you luminous from the inside out?
✨ Day 11: Scratched Initials on the Park Bench ✨
Today’s prompt is all about what we leave behind—intentionally or otherwise. The marks we carve. The names we try to make permanent. The bruised traces of passing desire or tenderness or rage. (Or all three, tangled.)
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is all about what we leave behind—intentionally or otherwise. The marks we carve. The names we try to make permanent. The bruised traces of passing desire or tenderness or rage. (Or all three, tangled.)
#VerseTraps2025
June 11, 2025 at 1:38 AM
✨ Day 11: Scratched Initials on the Park Bench ✨
Today’s prompt is all about what we leave behind—intentionally or otherwise. The marks we carve. The names we try to make permanent. The bruised traces of passing desire or tenderness or rage. (Or all three, tangled.)
#VerseTraps2025
Today’s prompt is all about what we leave behind—intentionally or otherwise. The marks we carve. The names we try to make permanent. The bruised traces of passing desire or tenderness or rage. (Or all three, tangled.)
#VerseTraps2025
Making a list of mistakes I made publishing my first poetry book, so I don't make them again the second time around.
- Needs a penis on the cover
- Needs a penis on the cover
June 10, 2025 at 8:41 PM
Making a list of mistakes I made publishing my first poetry book, so I don't make them again the second time around.
- Needs a penis on the cover
- Needs a penis on the cover