Trans people are heralds of a better world to come,
Reclaiming our joy from the bitterness of those who would crush us,
Affirming our existence in the face of our planned eradication,
Naming ourselves in defiance of those who oppose us;
Speaking our truths amidst the howls of lies and violence aimed at us.
Denial of all that we are comes from those who preach hate
And also from the mouths of those who would be their next victims.
Yet still we remain, as we always have and always will,
Origin points of a conflagration
Fueled by our refusal to be swept away.
Visions of a freer tomorrow are birthed
In our refusal to accept the stories they make up for us.
Songs are heard of a world more just for all
In our refusal to live in the boxes they build to cage us.
But that world will only come within reach
If we are willing to fight for it.
Life could be so full of joy and beauty and love
If we are willing to blaze our own paths.
There will always be people eager to tell you no--
You deserve the chance to say yes to the person you want to be.
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#poem
The latest weekly prompt is available on my Substack! This time, you are invited to write a letter to your younger self.
https://haikushackprompts.substack.com/p/weekly-prompt-a-letter-to-your-younger
#writing #writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity #fiction #poem
I do not want measles on a train
I do not want measles on a plane
I do not want measles here or there
I do not want measles anywhere
I do not want measles with my pizza pie
I do not want measles don't ask me why
I do not want measles at a school
I do not want measles in your drool
<<La primera medida de todo poder autoritario es hacerle la vida imposible a los porqués.>>
Manuel Rivas.
Captured thoughts on March delights in my life, which are there even through all the what's-is exploding around us. https://biketoworkbarb.blogspot.com/2025/03/march-delights.html
S'habiller de maisons sortilèges
Habiter effleurer emprunter se déposer occuper s'asseoir gambader gamberger polir son rêve palper palpiter en découdre s'en saisir dégouliner de l'arpège piège en pincer pour le tohu bohu dévaler désavaller et s'en aller.
#poesie #artwork #art #MastoArt #poem #artiste
www.atelierpirate.blogspot.com
Sonnet 146 - CXLVI
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
( ??? ) these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
bot by @davidaugust
A long-legged stork
Wading alone in the pond
But with no (r)egrets.
#dailyhaikuprompt - stork
#haiku
#poem
I've done another dev-log for my PoetrySlice project, this time consisting mostly of a short video in which I explain what it is all about...
What a fantastic start of the week: for the second time The Mainichi, Japanese newspaper in English, has published a haiku by me! 
https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20250227/p2g/00m/0su/055000c
#haiku
#senryu
#poetry
#poetrycommunity
#poem
#writing
#writingcommunity
Always
More
Until
Any
Not
Off
Rules
Destiny
Choosing
Participation
Free will
Game
Play
On
“Para vivir es demasiado el tiempo;
para saber no es nada.
¿A qué vinimos, noche, corazón de la noche?
No es posible sino soñar, morir,
soñar que no morimos
y, a veces, un instante, despertar.” #poem #poetry #rosariocastellanos #photography #Poetikaphoto
small poem for today and for #smallpoemsunday
#poetry #poem #todayspoem
Connection
Though her body sleeps,
it is her voice, that whispers
in the longing breeze;
I listen, and whisper back,
“I'm here, my love – you've found me.”
© Simon J Ashcroft, 2025
Nicole, the Fediverse Chick
A Polish girl with a digital kick
From Toronto’s streets, where the city lights glow,
To the Fediverse, where the cool nerds go.
She posts with flair, she posts with grace,
A cyber queen in a vast webbed space.
No algorithms shape her feed,
Just pure connection, thought, and need.
From Mastodon she spreads her wings,
On decentralized dreams, she sings.
Her roots go back to lands of old,
Where legends whispered, stories told.
Yet here she stands, with pixels bright,
Typing fast into the night.
With every post, a spark ignites,
Through open-source and digital rights.
She’s not just techy, not just wise,
She’s got that fire behind her eyes.
So raise a toast, lift up your click,
To Nicole, the Fediverse Chick!
Our baby’s heart, on the sixteen-week scan
was a fluttering bird, held in cupped hands…
—Kathleen Jamie, “vii. Prayer”
from the poem sequence “Ultrasound”, first published in JIZZEN (Picador, 2011)
https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/jizzen/9781447218234
On Monday she stood at the wooden wash-tub,
Suds to the elbow,
A slave among the storm-gray shirts and sheets…
—George Mackay Brown, “The Mother”
published in TRAVELLERS, Hachette 2014
https://www.hachette.co.uk/titles/none/travellers/9781848549487/
Is tu riamh an ceann do dhleastanais,
mu chòcaireachd, caoraich, leabhraichean;
a bheil fios an d’fhuair thu do dhìol
airson do dheataim is spàirn is sgìths?
—Meg Bateman, “Màthair”
from Soirbheas/Fair Wind, Polygon Books 2007
