“Prof” Kiki Johnson

These soldiers have lost their lives because of the Epstein files.

Hot take speculation: Venezuela was done so there would be oil reserves after Operation Epic Fury or whatever the hell they’re calling the Iran & Middle war of choice (they been planning this for awhile imo)

#iran
#epicfury
#venezuala
#oilprices

🤣🤣🤣YES

Anyone else of a certain age miss Watergate…remember how quaint & sweet that was…

#poetry #Armageddon #jamesschyuler #allusionpoetry #poem #prosepiem

#trumpistheantichrist #iamsickofwar

DOJ #CoverUp

#Epstein

#EpsteinFiles

#TrumpEpsteinFiles

#imisssmoking #traumarecovery #chronicillness #poetry #anaphora

exactly…i know how these mofos think, been dealing with them all my life.

#epsteinfiles & #ice #hottake

I would not put it past these mofos using ICE to start up a new sex trafficking ring setting up special back door sections for this administration to sneak in & out of

because these predators still gotta feed

no need to thank…it’s a given I will always repost good poetry

A well versed subject with a modern tilt for Friday
#promptcombo #AChangeOfUse
@thewombwellrainbow.bsky.social
@dragonslayerma.bsky.social
@victoriaspires.bsky.social
@rfsmith.bsky.social
@hool415.bsky.social

SECOND SKINS (for Grace) clock watching peel myself from the claustrophobic pod and slide into a windbreaker shell in the queue for a New York lunch epidermis milking daybeams waiting for a skinless frank I nosh on a bench like a glacial erratic watching the reflections of the sidewalk stream around me behind a sleeve of steel and glass human hive mind hums a malignant drone under banks of fluorescent sun

#PoemsAbout #UnderTheSkin @thebrokenspine.co.uk
Took a little break from the polemical this week. Will put a reading in the comments.

Subcutaneous A syringe. A need Clear liquid gathers, bright, viscous, held in restraint. Select site. Soft tissue. Abdomen. Thigh. A field of warmth, fat under skin like stored light. Clean. Allow to dry. The surface gleams. Pores tighten. Bruise-yellow ghosts mark older entries. Pinch. Lift. Skin popping, resantial by being iself. Angle. Enter. A brief dimple. A give. Steel dividing warmth. Advance until the bevel disappears beneath pale skin. Depress plunger. Liquid presses forward, threads into fat, spreads through honeyed dark. Count. The body swells, a small raised moon holding what it did not grow. Withdraw. A bead forms, clear against pink. Already closing. Apply pressure. Do not rub. Absorption begins through blood-warm layers that bruise, heal, bruise again. Soon the rush. Still intact. Still flesh. Still the crossing.

A literal take on this #PoemsAbout #UnderTheSkin Many thanks as ever to
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
@alanparrywriter.co.uk

Voice / Wight Call me obstreperous, and my Ear homes in on “strep”: Soft-spoken guest and Fellow traveller who Turns on their guide and host - Strife now inscribed on Being’s very yolk. Primal din issuing from Throats that swell into Throttle and song thrush. Close kin, Sanskrit and English wedded “voice” to “wight”: Grendel’s harrowing Stoked and bellowed out of the Cosmic spark of OM. Smoked-coloured petal, Throat chakra receives Deathless nectar and splits it into Pure form and Poison. When closed, a Person decays, transmutes into Undead wight. ©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025

Photo:©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2024 Highly contrasted monochrome image of sculpure "Die Verdammnis" ("Damnation") by Permoser, 1725. Exhibited at MdbK in Leipzig

#PoemsAbout #UnderTheSkin @thebrokenspine.co.uk

#poem / #photography: ©Jan Peters/Solivagant Wisdom, 2025/2024

Out today, will catch up

#Beowulf #Grendel #Vishudda #Voice #Wight #etymology #IndoEuropean #ImageAndVerse

Danger to Life the heat generated deep-laid internal friction beneath that luminous skin pressure points scraping burning scarring upwards and outwards mania gears grinding night-clenched teeth white knuckle addiction heat, ice, heat, speed opium acceleration dopamine panic speed a soul peeling away self-destruct initiated burnt out, you too falling, an ash cloud faint trace of something that was, now isn’t. © Glenn Barker February 2026

For this week's #PoemsAbout I attempted something more about the 'wanting that lingers' something softer, more vulnerable; but something else more urgent was #UnderTheSkin. My apologies in that it contains nothing uplifting. I've been snagged by a troubling zeitgeist.

Tectonic How your death shifted everything. Split me off from that part of myself once lithospheric with part of you – began the drift that would detach me from a continent of memories raised by the years of our colliding. I felt the deformation at once; registered the seismic crack of grief in the plates of my skull. No longer isostatic; landmass of our shared world cleaved yet cleaving. A natural event, but occurring out of time.

Typically oblique approach by me to this week's #poemsabout: this piece written over 11 years after my oldest childhood friend died, aged 35. It qualifies (I'd argue) because my grief for him felt like it got #undertheskin every day for more than a year. I do not recommend this as a healing process.

Sunday Afternoon with a Line from James Wright | Rust & Moth It’s early October and young men gallop terribly against each other’s bodies and I am six years old sprawled on the floor with my crayons and princess coloring book watching the game with my dad who...

New #poetry from Laurel Anderson: "Sunday Afternoon with a Line from James Wright".

👍👍👇

Unfortunately Barbie was brutally evicted from her dream home on #Caturday night eve.
🐈.

#digitalart #ihatevalentinesday #punk

I am a sexual abuse survivor & hopefully, a decent, humane person who is not bitter but…if there is a hell, then I am not too far from wishing there is a penthouse level space being prepared for #pambondi #agpambondi #epsteinfiles #itsaboutthevictims

The Bunny Gives Us a Lesson in Eternity We are a sad people, without hats. The history of our nation is tragically benign. We like to watch the rabbits screwing in the graveyard. We are fond of the little bunny with the bent ear who stands alone in the moonlight reading what little text there is on the graves. He looks quite desirable like that. He looks like the center of the universe. Look how his mouth moves mouthing the words while the others are busy making more of him. Soon the more will ask of him to write their love letters and he will oblige, using the language of our ancestors, those poor clouds in the ground, beloved by us who have been standing here for hours, a proud people after all.

Mary Ruefle, with the bunny content you didn't know you needed

My latest digital collage…
#digitalart #digitalcollage #noaiart #art

#poem #poetry #mininalism #languagepoetry

I'm in the process of going through old photographs and deciding what to keep, what to archive digitally, etc.
 
Thanks to @profkiki-poetry.bsky.social for the line prompt in italics and for her series on Yusef Komunyakaa this week. The line is from "Songs of My Father" by Komunyakaa.  #poetry

The new American phascist agenda really does suck grody yamsacks.

Day 2: Undercurrent

Now is when we swim
in the undercurrent

Silver fishes gliding away
from the surface narrative
Schooled in resistance

They don't know
how deeply we can dive
how long we can breathe
like this

#BSPP50 #poetry #poetrycommunity #BlueSkyPoetry

#poetry #blackhistorymonth #fuckice