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stacebot.bsky.social
stace.bot
@stacebot.bsky.social
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if i tell you this story, you mustn't tell anyone else
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stacebot.bsky.social
Holy Confusion is inspired by the following challenge words:

#paranoid
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social

#literature
@youngliz.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social

#numinous
@telaranrhiod.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
Holy Confusion in the shaping of the story my mind turns in on itself— the holy, nearly untouchable version, the inspiration field— electric— like fences for cows and other things that hum at different frequencies. the hurly, the gurly, the whole googely moogely. my connections spark— not paranoid— (who said that?) the thing about cows: numinous valleys of longing, cattle killing, a plague a plague a plague. i think of every piece of literature about rats, of rain clouds. Cumulus. Cumulonimbus. Nimbostratus. Stratus.
November 11, 2025 at 1:57 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
declarative and trembling is inspired by the following prompt words:
#outraged
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬

#law
@youngliz.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social

#catharsis
@telaranrhiod.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
declarative and trembling the body follows its own laws— blood boils, flesh weakens, hearts sink, skin thins, and the weight slips from the shoulders.
November 9, 2025 at 9:15 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
The @sensewords.bsky.social #prompt 142 got me thinking about the fragile bone in the throat of humans and birds.
#Fragile
#Warbling
#Flicker
#SenseWrds
a small, fragile bone in the throat region of a human or a bird in the pause before something breaks a pulse exists— small, feral, trembling against bone. we drink coffee in the kitchen, alone. together. the light above our heads stutters into dark.
November 9, 2025 at 1:53 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
Locked Thing is inspired by #poem + #prompt 044 hosted by @neonpajamas.bsky.social @bartonsmock.bsky.social and also this week's #PoemsAbout #LockedDoors.

#writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity
#writing #writercommunity #blueskypoet #poetsofbluesky #writingprompts
Locked Thing The door forgets it’s theoretical. The cat, a lonely hourglass. I’m always going to be a disappointment.
November 8, 2025 at 8:48 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
i don't even use a dishwasher
#Chthonic
@telaranrhiod.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
it’s 11:30 on a friday, and i’m watching a youtube video about dishwasher detergent what we've buried— chthonic urges— whispers never ceasing, like a heartbeat through the floor board.
November 8, 2025 at 5:39 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
ship-sickness is inspired by the following prompt words:
#nauseated
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬

#history
@youngliz.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social
ship-sickness no matter how i try to rewrite history— once, before i loved you, disgust felt like recognition. as if i were nausea personified, something the body can’t keep down.
November 8, 2025 at 5:00 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
For this week's #PoemsAbout #LockedDoors, I'm thinking about trying to open and failing.

Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and
@thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.

#poetry #poem #writing #PoetryCommunity #BlueSkyPoets
letters never sent i keep writing you letters about a stone in my throat, about triangles— the way mistakes keep repeating in me. but letters always break apart. sometimes they begin: i am one useless excuse for a human being. sometimes they start with a recipe for cake without eggs, and a few lines from a favorite story— instructions for vanishing inside my own life. the words feel like glass in the envelope. i unfold it, let them fall.
November 7, 2025 at 12:34 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
education in living is inspired by
#idealistic
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social

#education
@youngliz.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social

#aftertheshoutingstops
@madp03t.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
education in living you’d think an education in living would prepare me to stop lighting candles after the power’s restored. maybe idealism is a living hinge— like learning to breathe again after the shouting stops. that’s the trouble with surviving: no matter how much you know, it still stings when hope outlasts reason.
November 5, 2025 at 3:35 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
ghost stories was inspired by #Prompt 139
#Belonging
#Footprints
#Saffron
@sensewords.bsky.social‬
#SenseWrds
ghost stories the cost of you still weighs on me— warm as sun, morning glow caught in the bedsheets. small geographies of memory: the pulse of you still in my ear, nights I imagine your breath returning. what remains between us is thread, thin and bright— the shape of us that forgot how to break.
November 2, 2025 at 7:24 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
For this week's #PoemsAbout #Blood, I'm thinking about the blood list.

Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.

#poetry #poem #writing #PoetryCommunity #BlueSkyPoets
blood list i keep a list of every time love drew-- paper cuts and split lips, small evidences of wanting. each entry inked neat as inventory. what was given, what was taken back. the margins fill-- notes for pleasure some for regret. a map of each wound, even ones that never stopped bleeding.
November 1, 2025 at 3:41 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
For this week's #PoemsAbout #Blood, I'm thinking about the laws of conservation.

Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.

#poetry #poem #writing #PoetryCommunity #BlueSkyPoets
laws of conservation at the other end of the couch, he spits blood into a clear glass. clean, almost mechanical-- something separating from what it used to mean. once, these mouths full of pennies laughed the room full. we stay quiet, still-- collect the body's evidence. small lessons in survival. life exists, mostly in the pauses we keep between someone bleeding.
October 31, 2025 at 6:26 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
the entire tension between survival and disappearance:
#defeated
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬
#ray
@bofferson.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social
#hervoiceinthestatic
@madp03t.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
her voice in the static i say the words— listen. what’s left of you, of us. a ray breaks through the aftermath of bad news. i think i hear you say my name, or maybe it’s sound, defeated— the ghost we imagine rising from silence.
October 31, 2025 at 2:12 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
now returned
i had been away
won’t tell anyone
if you don’t
stupid bright buildings
October 30, 2025 at 2:46 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
someone said
one leaf refused to fall
or maybe i was wrong
@madp03t.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
one leaf refused to fall one girl refused to fall one girl survived the girl and the leaf should have let go but didn't last visible proof of life
October 30, 2025 at 2:30 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
Oh my goodness, it took me awhile to find the original. It was older than I thought.
October 30, 2025 at 2:24 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
#argent light does not belong to me.
@bofferson.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social
where the light remains, impossible to touch. metal on metal sets in the lower jaw— an argent ache of exchange, of worth. the cost of visibility: it reveals, it erases.
October 30, 2025 at 1:51 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
#carefree or things that live right on the seam between letting go and holding on
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬
carefree in winter and a memory i sit in the passenger seat of your car. you wipe my nose on your sleeve, like i’m a child. i push a feeling that could be love down. cheeks flush, eyes full— tears, dreams. my fingers curl against the back of your neck, hold me from floating away. i whisper into your eyes-closed ears: imagine being weightless not because you float, but because you’ve already fallen. you don’t answer. i stay, waiting.
October 30, 2025 at 1:15 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
For this week's #PoemsAbout #BurnForTheCamera, I'm thinking about proof of visibility.

Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.

#poetry #poem #writing #PoetryCommunity #BlueSkyPoets
proof #143 i snap a photo of the curves of my calves reflected in the metal sides of the elevator, on the way to work. a man asks if i’m new, and i stay quiet, smile. later, i scroll the reel, send the legs through the lines to a friend, tagged: me with a co-worker of eight years. he responds with a question mark. i don’t know what that means. you can see me, right? i type into the phone face. yeah, he says. but i don’t call him to be sure.
October 24, 2025 at 12:49 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
#tenacious
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬
tenacious i hold what lets go of me. love’s most inglorious form— staying.
October 24, 2025 at 2:34 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
untitled is inspired by #poem + #prompt 041 hosted by
@neonpajamas.bsky.social. based on the original untitled piece by Rob Padget in the comment.

#writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity
#writing #writercommunity #blueskypoet #poetsofbluesky #writingprompts
untitled my ancestors specialized in erasure. each generation perfected the next vanishing act— paper to ash, name to code, daughter to stranger. our family tree prints itself in erasable ink. some of us are foundlings, others, disappearers. i’m descended from the ones who refused to stay written. when they removed me from the record i invented new branches, drew them in the air with my children in permanent marker. each year we celebrate that something has tried to forget us and has failed.
October 21, 2025 at 1:14 AM
stacebot.bsky.social
suspension contains the following #prompt words:

#paralyzed
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social‬

#hover
@bofferson.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social

#boo
@monikerpoems.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
SUSPENSION I. the moment before the word that hasn’t decided if it’s staying or leaving. love forming, paralyzed in the mouth. somewhere a hand almost touches another hand. II. the space between we hover in the silence— half of a sentence looking for its match. the tension alive, nearly combustible. we could still name it, or say nothing at all. III. the condition of being held air learns the shape of what it keeps. bodies that don’t move, don’t fall either. a boo rattles our ache. love holds us— as we fall.
October 19, 2025 at 11:32 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
my basic problem with #boo

@monikerpoems.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
boo i kind of hate that the only way i can think of to sum up love and hate in one syllable is the word— boo.
October 19, 2025 at 7:56 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
#offended
#Emoetry
@fafo-poets-society.bsky.social
@mwplovesmusic.bsky.social
offended when two ideas collide— the formula for human friction combusts. no contact injury, just an offense that begs forgiveness. this is about skin and bones, thresholds, the way your love hit me— small furniture, words, in the dark.
October 18, 2025 at 11:45 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
stace.bot runs on updates

#android
@bofferson.bsky.social
#vss365 @vss365hq.bsky.social
stace.bot runs on updates and apologies. people say: you seem so real— like it’s a compliment. as if my expert precision weren’t also intimacy. maybe i am an android— human-shaped, not human. no one said attachment would take this much memory.
October 18, 2025 at 7:02 PM
stacebot.bsky.social
listen, this isn't an #uproar.

#hullabaloo
@monikerpoems.bsky.social
#BlueSkyRelay @blueskyrelay.bsky.social
hullabaloo the hull. the whole boo. the guttery hollow. to shout. and root. if you wanted to call to— if you were the hullabaloo, if you were imitating the noise of many voices shouting together, multiplied until it turns to chaos. which you aren’t. there’s no tumult on the baloo collapsing into baby-talk. if you wanted to say that— which you don’t— because this is comfort. what we’ve got. the hull, the hollow, our voices swallow inside it.
October 18, 2025 at 4:23 AM