A POEM A DAY

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One Poem Only

Maggie Devers
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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. -19 Ч

    Wonder by Kerena Joseline | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. WonderKerena JoselineAfter Tuvia RubinerIf after everything that has happened you can still hold your heavy heart with all the strength you have left, and brave one day at a time,if you can still hear those orange- breasted rufous treepies singing on the electric lines at dawn,and the sparrows with their yellow beaks...don't be surprised that happiness is watching the answer to your prayers sleeping beautifully beside you,is feeling the warmth of sunrays entering your living room like hands reaching out to comfort you,is gawking at the sky turning into a riot of gold,is drinking in with delight all the tiny details of this incredible world bursting with a million miracles every second.Take heart, you do not know when and where happiness will flood over you. More from Kerena Joseline ↓ @kerena.j.c 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 shows us what we need. Thank you for being part of the experience. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  2. -1 ДН.

    Dystopian Dirges (United Healthcare) by Amelia Wicker | 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. Dystopian Dirges (United Healthcare)Amelia WickerRubbish or treasureWho is to measureThe value of a life cast aside?Nickeled and dimedWithout reason or rhymeDelayed and denied a day’s breathWho lives and who dies?Who’s the lord of the flies?This dystopian surmise too grim to speakFalse gods of profit and powerClaiming souls by the hourGrowing strong from the plight of the weakNo penance for crimes68,000 timesNew dirges ring with each blink of an eyeMercenary marionettes lieDeaf to the bereft criesAscension ripe for the fall after prideWhen a carpenter by tradeFierce and tender will say“I was thirsty, you gave me no drink”“But sir, we never met”How conveniently they forgetThey met Jesus in the least of all these More from Amelia Wicker ↓ @poison.or.grapes_poetry 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 sustains. Thank you for supporting the podcast. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  3. -2 ДН.

    Les Ondines by Claire Shalhope | One Poem Only

    A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud. Les OndinesClaire ShalhopeI devote myselfinto secret gardensWhere grey stoneis covered in soft ivythat are full of whispersof your demurralFleshy moss that sitsbeneath my toes,feeds my woes,and fumbleswith our inhibitionsThe scarlet rose thornsmay prick my thumb,But you'll obligeto taste my bloodHow senseless am Ito become insouciantAs the sun's beamsgolden light of myself-condemnationso I carve our initials into the old oakBut a Fortnight ago,all our woven trovesand glances piercingeach of our souls.Sweet honeysuckles growon twisted branchesTo roam our covesof endearmentI uncover your guiseour enthrallment deniesone another.How delicately the waterripples upon your waist,Where our stillness interlacedtroeping our patienceOur dalliance shinesluminescent in thetourmaline skiesfate delivers solaceIn our honeyed oasisAs the wistful naiads tokens More from Claire Shalhope ↓ @claires.creatives 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 reminds us what matters. Thank you for listening. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  4. -3 ДН.

    Homecoming by Kara Dobias | 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. HomecomingKara DobiasThe world wants to be kind, I think.But too often, we are warned of its dangersbefore we can meet its light.I learned to live in the shadowof others’ fear and felt it manifestas my own,self-censoring the softestparts of me out of safety,but I’m becoming something new.I don’t want to be good so much as brave.To make the agreement to be disagreeablewhen it counts.If I am to be beholden to anything,let it betruth,so that I may stand as a pillar of a womanyou can lean on.I’ll lay myself bare,and for once, not worry aboutthe consequences.Instead, I’ll choose to embracethe perfect contradictionI know myself to be.The very version of me I learnedto outrun.You can only ignore the gnawing of your soul for so long.So, who have I been denying myself for?An internal tug-of-war that has stood onlyto hurt me.To be a beacon of sincerity,I must show you my true face.I’m easily disillusioned by the mundane.The creator runs deep in my marrow.Left an untapped well,I become undone.I need something I can pour into.That’s the only wayI feel whole.I was never meant to live within the boundsof a limited imagination.I came here to break the mold.This is the end of my season of seeking.No more performing to be palatable.I give myself permission to feel safein being seen.Let opinions fall where they may.I’d rather inspire confusionthan be a vessel for unfulfilled dreams.Finally, I’ve come hometo me. More from Kara Dobias ↓ @karadobias on Instagram@karadobias on SubstackHer book, Alive, 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 sustains. Thank you for supporting the podcast. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    3 мин.

  5. -4 ДН.

    “Once a palm reader told me” by Ariel Kasha | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. “Once a palm reader told me”Ariel KashaOnce a palm reader told memy head and my heart linelay completely intertwinedShe called it "steamy palms"no separation between the two.she said it makes me an incredible loverbut I would never be able to experience a casual connection.I asked if I could unzip my heart from skin and place it on icethe drive through sex line seems so easy.unfortunately my body does not seem to digestsynthetic meatfast food is deadand i want to eat lifebut my heart has stitchesand I am weary of sewingshe shook her head,a taste will never sufficea soul that was made to devourand be swallowed whole.turns outshe wasa very good palm reader. More from Ariel Kasha ↓ @arielkashaceli on InstagramHer book, Luna di Sirena: Love Letters from the Tide, 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. Feed yourself poetry every day. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  6. -5 ДН.

    Cradle by Meagan Sexton | 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. Cradle Meagan Sexton I feel storm-woven into exhale,loud rage of drumpreludes river current tears. Lightening unlids origami eyes—folded corners open as wings of swan take flight to the light.Repression dissipates with release—we speak in tongue of stardust,tender bouts of longing lift by sigh.Fingertips brush skin in feathered silence;this sheen of want cocoons stability. I rainin contemporary know,a rumble of reached echo held like the breath of reason;a cradle of taut vision. More from Meagan Sexton ↓ @soul.spills10 on Instagram@meaganswrites on SubstackHer books, Riptides and Rapture and A Sliding Light, are 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. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  7. -6 ДН.

    Tower Moment by Belly Lux | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. Tower MomentBelly Luxa little aftercarea little Sugar For The Pillplaying low in the backgroundCarharrt and red lace in puddlesbut there is no sun left for meand no more sunday kind of loveTobacco Vanille and one meal a dayit’s the year of the skin, the year of rejectionour world is locked up and my lips are zippedbecause it’s bad luck when more people knowso i stitch my guts back insideand i keep it all within memonogamy is out of seasonyet i’m loyal to the fantasy alonei’m drawn out by the divine timingi’m seeing numbers, patterns, and signsand in a collision of planets, in saturns returnthe universe pulls us back together in one last efforti see you, and in my nature, i smile,my heart reaching out more than everi see you come, i see you go, and i forgive the fluidityit’s a tower moment for me, for usrealising the only control i have is over myselfit all boils down to just one thing, it’s my one lifewhat will i do with it? and what is it that i want? More from Belly Lux ↓ @bellylux 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. Feed yourself poetry every day. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    2 мин.

  8. 11 АПР.

    On the Roof I See by Mirela Salihovic | One Poem Only

    One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. On the Roof I SeeMirela SalihovicMy little sister and I,When we’re in the tent,love to play a game.We call it:"On the roof I see..."And whoever’s turn it issays what they see on the tent’s roof.On the roof I see…Birds of all sizes.They land on the tent roofand tiptoe across the canvaswith their tiny feet.They wander back and forth.I hear them chirping.Winter is coming.It will be cold under the tent.Mom will bring more blankets and quiltsfrom the humanitarian aid.Father’s friend Ahmedused to sell beautiful quiltsin his little shopat the end of the street.Before they threw rocks at itand destroyed it.The birds fly off to warmer places.On the roof I see…Raindrops.They sparkle in the morning sunlike crystals.On the roof I see…Leaves falling from the treesin autumn.Our old mulberry tree didn’t survive the shell.My sister and Ihid in its trunkwhen we played hide-and-seek.We would hang from its branches.Mom made homemade jamfrom its white clusters.On the roof I see…The moon and stars.The tent’s roof is see-through,so at night,when the sky is clear,you can see the moon and stars.On the roof I see…Mom dustingand bird droppings.On the roof I see…The roof of our old house.Dad says:"When the war is over, we’ll come backand rebuild everything.With our own hands."On the roof I see…I want to believe my dad.I want to go back to elementary school.If there were no war,I’d be in seventh grade.I want to play hide-and-seek againwith my sisterand hide in the old mulberry tree.I want to see my best friend, Omar.I wish we could play with paper airplanes.The ones flying above us nowaren’t as fun.And when I hear the sound of those airplanes nearby,I hold my sisterand lay her head on my chest.And I tell her that on the roof I see…Flowers of every colorgrowing from the tent’s canvas,as if from the earth itself. More from Author ↓ @salihowitch 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 shows us what we need. Thank you for being part of the experience. Mentioned in this episode: Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO. #WriteAfterOPO

    3 мин.
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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.

Информация

  • Автор
    Maggie Devers
  • Годы выхода
    2025 - 2026
  • Выпуски
    363
  • Ограничения
    С ненормативной лексикой
  • Авторские права
    © Maggie Devers
  • Сайт подкаста
    One Poem Only
  • Поставщик
    Maggie Devers