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September 30, 2025 at 7:11 AM
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Today’s poem: poets.org/poem/black-p...

“Black Pastoral” by Lillian-Yvonne Bertram

This poem is in the world in a way that we’re told we’re not supposed to be, and questions the nature and definition of wealth. 💚

#poetry #poemaday #booksky #poem #lillianyvonnebertram #khadijahqueen #blacksky
Black Pastoral
Alone outside ain’t nil, but to be it
poets.org
July 8, 2025 at 6:54 PM
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Poem 5: Insomniac Tankas by Antoinette Brim-Bell

I love how this poem blends natural and existential transformation. Seasons, cycles—recognition of the many kinds of time. Sign up for poem a day for more 🩵

poets.org/poem/insomni...

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Insomniac Tankas
Dayside anger splits / hydrogen and oxygen
poets.org
July 7, 2025 at 12:42 PM
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Day 4–

A poem that offers perspective about imagination and the power of quiet building, dreaming, futurework: “you cannot dream with your mouth /
open and catch the light of the right star.” @keithing_it_real
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poets.org/poet/keith-s...
Keith S. Wilson
Keith S. Wilson is the author of Fieldnotes on Ordinary Love (Copper Canyon, 2019).
poets.org
July 4, 2025 at 11:25 AM
khadijahqueen.com
Day 3—
To me, this poem captures the emotional intensity we may feel related to the encroachment of environmental disaster, connecting that feeling across time and space. One thing poetry can do is bear witness. Read the full poem:
poets.org

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The Way the Language Was Andrea Rexilius The day the deer died, I was alive in my house. I was alive in a watery field of glaciers. In the realm of birchwood in my throat. The day the robins wept, the day foxes ran from the woods on fire
July 3, 2025 at 4:35 PM
khadijahqueen.com
Day Two—
“A Poem About Home” by @bettinajudd is an image-rich lesson on what we can use our hands to nurture or ignore, heal or harm—mundane physical knowledge, aimed internally or externally. Read the full poem: poets.org/poem-a-day
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A Poem about Home Bettina Judd I learned to chop from the hand. The onion a palm-cupped moon sliced by a blade almost grazing thenar eminence. Was trained well before YouTube and Top Chef told me I had it all wrong, before my cousin went to culinary school and brought back the gospel of tucking fingers on cutting boards about this poem “This poem began as a meditation on learning how to cook and the danger cooking navigates. As I wrote it, the notion of risk expanded beyond the kitchen and then returned to the home.” —Bettina Judd Black and white image of Bettina Judd, looking pensive with a hand on her cheek and hair coiled artfully across her forehead
July 2, 2025 at 11:35 AM