A POEM A DAY

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One Poem Only

Maggie Devers
  • 5.0 (3)
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  • UPDATED DAILY

A daily reading. A quiet moment. One poem, center stage: just for now, just for you. A one-night-only show, in verse. Come back tomorrow. The curtain rises again.

  1. The House with My Name Carved Into Its Teeth by Tess Ezzy | Wednesday Double Feature | One Poem Only

    9H AGO

    The House with My Name Carved Into Its Teeth by Tess Ezzy | Wednesday Double Feature | One Poem Only

    Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram. The House with My Name Carved Into Its TeethTess EzzyExecutive dysfunctionis a kind of hauntingbut not the pretty kind,not the candlelit ghost girlfloating through the hallway.No.This thing is a beastwith my name carvedinto its teeth.Every morning I waketo a body that forgets me.A body that misplaces its own pulse.A body that drops intentionlike a strip of clothingbefore the lover even arrives.My hands—god, my hands—they go spectral on me.I reach for the taskand the task slips throughlike a secret I’m not trusted with.I reach for the dayand the day folds shutlike a trapdoorand I fall through myselfagainagainagain.People sayJust start.As if I am not wrestling a monsterin the foyer of my own life.As if the staircaseis not rearranging itselfthe moment I look away.As if time hasn’t been taunting melike a cruel exwho knows exactlywhere my soft skin lives.My to-do listis a f****d-up funhouse mirror.Every item shows methe version of meI should have been by now.I stare at her—mouth full of apology,spine full of fire—and I want herjust onceto step out of the mirrorand stop pretendingshe’s possible.I lose hours like loversI was too wild to keep.I lose whole afternoonsthe way some peoplelose religion.Sudden.Violent.A kind of holy grief.And yes—there is shame.The thick, wet kind.The kind that grows mouldif you don’t drag it out into the sunand scream at ituntil it dissolves.But don’t mistake me.I am not asking for rescue.I am not writing a tender poemabout learning to love myselfin a haunted house.I am telling youI am renovating this bitch.With my bare handsand my broken rhythmsand my stubborn, feral...

    4 min

  2. 1D AGO

    Museum of Mourning by Maria Corcoran | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. Museum of Mourning Maria Corcoran This poem was first published in the Raven Review. Ocean of silent, aching desiresDrowned before even taking formGuiltless, carried to the pyreSnuffed and swallowed, not yet bornO lulling waves of strangled dreams,Why do you refuse to die?Trying even now to be heard, be seenFrom below the depths wherein you lieWith your unclosing eyes full of blame,Every gurgled breath you heave,Ties me a knot borne of your painYou wish to take me as you leaveYou, every dream never dared dreamtA drop in this vast cemeteryYour revenge is your lamentA cruel memoir of what I’ve buriedSharp-edged guilt, bleeding griefYour torment is mine to keepUnintended sweet deceitMy regrets are your motifsIs this your oath,Either drive me madOr kill us both?Perhaps it is a fitting end,Succumbing to these rooted woundsThat I will, you will never mendTurning inside out, self-exhumedQuiet rage, quiet tormentUndeclared indictmentPunishment for what I’ve done–A dictated requisite crime--To be forever on the run,For a choice that wasn’t mineMore from Maria Corcoran ↓ @_mariacorcoran on Instagram@mariacorcoran on SubstackMaria is looking for authors and poets that write and appreciate Gothic literature. If you happen to be a poet who writes rhyming/structured poetry, she would like to connect for potential writing collabs and community building. Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Poetry reminds us what matters. Thank you for listening.

    2 min

  3. 2D AGO

    Human Nature by Lynn L. | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. Human NatureLynn L.My fingertips feel the texture of a rose petal,Silken, yes, but silken with the hush of something already dying.Soft as sin, velvet against the finger,A whisper that resists and surrenders all at once.Cool at first, like a lover’s indifference,Then quick to the warmth beneath the weight of touch.More from Lynn L. ↓ Her website: www.lbachman.com@authorlynnl on InstagramHer book, Saint Woman, is available now Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.

    1 min
  4. Writing Love Poems to the NASA Artist’s Concept by Maggie Devers & Weekly Poetry Recap | One Poem More

    3D AGO

    Writing Love Poems to the NASA Artist’s Concept by Maggie Devers & Weekly Poetry Recap | One Poem More

    One Poem More gathers all of this week’s poems from One Poem Only—an unhurried chance to listen again, or catch what you missed. This week’s poemsEvery Cell Misses You by Dolon PramanikButterflied, oh by Yonsiri RojasYou’ll Hear Music by Chandra Tyler MountainPatience by Ayesha KhalidLost Bond by Pinky Faith OkaforLove Song by Dorothy Parker Plus one new one to carry us into the week ahead Writing Love Poems to the NASA Artist’s ConceptMaggie DeversHow small we are,How infinitesimally small,And yet I am hereWriting this down so you may read it10 years from now, or a hundred,Or never.Is never the same as zero?What if every breath is a big bangThe end of one universeAnd the beginning of another?Galaxies live in your voiceEchoing through the walls, off the wallsIn the space between your ribsI hear youI see youOnceTwiceForeverAnd it’s never enough.More from Maggie Devers ↓ My debut poetry collection, For My Daughter, available as an audiobook.Purchase a signed copy of For My Daughter or get one free by subscribing to the podcast: One Poem Only on PatreonFollow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure More from this week’s poets Find links to each poet’s work, books, and social accounts in the show notes for the individual episodes. Support + Stay Connected to...

    9 min

  5. 4D AGO

    Love Song by Dorothy Parker | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. Love Song Dorothy Parker My own dear love, he is strong and boldAnd he cares not what comes after.His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,And his eyes are lit with laughter.He is jubilant as a flag unfurled—Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him.My own dear love, he is all my world,—And I wish I’d never met him.My love, he’s mad, and my love, he’s fleet,And a wild young wood-thing bore him!The ways are fair to his roaming feet,And the skies are sunlit for him.As sharply sweet to my heart he seemsAs the fragrance of acacia.My own dear love, he is all my dreams,—And I wish he were in Asia.My love runs by like a day in June,And he makes no friends of sorrows.He’ll tread his galloping rigadoonIn the pathway of the morrows.He’ll live his days where the sunbeams start,Nor could storm or wind uproot him.My own dear love, he is all my heart,—And I wish somebody’d shoot him.More from Dorothy Parker ↓ This poem is from Dorothy Parker's collection, Enough Rope, published in 1926. Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.

    2 min

  6. 5D AGO

    Lost Bond by Pinky Faith Okafor | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. Lost Bond Pinky Faith Okafor There are stories the world claims to tell, Yet, we do not hear. Stories of girls denied the gift of learning, Who live through nightmares and are not allowed to dream. Of salma–12 who watches her uncle close a business deal behind closed doors Scrubbing the blood of strangers two weeks later was how she learned It was her future which was traded. Of preta–22, Dragged into a corner by 5 boys, Who walked away with her smile and her voice. Now she stands by her window every night, Talking to the moon This is the only way she feels heard. Of every girl in my country who walks down the hill Before the sun even rises, Carrying a heavy container,And a heavier heart.dreams of desks and blackboards,Her childhood is passingOne chore, one silence, one sacrifice at a timeNo one asksNo one caresAnd when bad things happen, they ask,"What were you wearing,?""Where were you going?""Who did you go to see?"Instead of saying,"This shouldn't have happened to you."They clap for us on special daysGirl's day, women's dayBut forget to lend us a hand on all the other daysWhen we need it the most.And now,all I have to say is this:We will continue to stand tall,to dream without feareven when our dreams seem small.We will speak out,even if our voices still shake.Because silence is never an optionWe are not weak,And we will tell our stories with our own lips.More from Pinky Faith Okafor ↓ @_pinkythepoet on Instagram Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.

    2 min

  7. 6D AGO

    Patience by Ayesha Mohal | One Poem Only

    A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud. PatienceAyesha MohalYes, you need patience,The patience of a steadfast tree,In autumn, it lets its leaves go free.Believing, not hoping alone,In spring, he will have grown.No one sits beneath the tree,Yet soon, they will come to see.Look, the birds are drawing near.Yes! yes! yes! Spring is here.Everyone is happy and free,Yes, you need patience,The patience of a steadfast treeMore from Ayesha Mohal ↓ @ayeshah.writes on Instagram@ayeshamohal on SubstackHer book, Bitter Sip, is available now. Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Poetry slows us down. Thank you for listening.

    1 min
  8. You’ll Hear Music by Chandra Tyler Mountain | Wednesday Double Feature | One Poem Only

    FEB 11

    You’ll Hear Music by Chandra Tyler Mountain | Wednesday Double Feature | One Poem Only

    Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram. You’ll Hear MusicChandra Tyler MountainThis poem is included in the 2024-25 Stafford Challenge Anthology. If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the quiet humming,pulses and surges of electricity,moving through uswith light and energy.If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the windwhistling softly, making its way through,carrying seeds of hopefor a tomorrow that will surely come.If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the stately elms and oaksplanning for a winterof full exposure:cold days, stark nights.If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the private chirpsof the feathered ones who remainto brave the winter and feast on songs of insectsburied deep in the cold, hard earth.If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the laughter of childrenfrolicking in the last remaining days of sunbefore the arctic breeze pushes us behind closed doorsto seek other sources of warmth.If you listen closely—you’ll hear the music in the beating of your own heartin tune with blessing and grief,singing back to you:all is well; all is well.More from Chandra Tyler Mountain ↓ @musings.from.my.grown.self on InstagramHer books, Sacred Water: Scripture Haiku for Those Who Thirst, and Musings from My Younger Self, are available now. Watch the Second Poem You can watch and listen to another poem by Chandra as part of our Wednesday double feature on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure. Support + Stay Connected to OPO If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook. Two poems. One poet. Let the words keep moving.

    2 min
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About

A daily reading. A quiet moment. One poem, center stage: just for now, just for you. A one-night-only show, in verse. Come back tomorrow. The curtain rises again.

Information

  • Creator
    Maggie Devers
  • Years Active
    2025 - 2026
  • Episodes
    301
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Maggie Devers
  • Show Website
    One Poem Only
  • Provider
    Maggie Devers