September 6, 2025 at 12:47 AM
June 8, 2025 at 12:09 AM
March 23, 2026 at 11:00 PM
May 19, 2025 at 5:41 PM
June 3, 2025 at 1:20 PM
May 29, 2025 at 8:48 AM
I wish I could tell you
everything will be OK,
that the world isn’t on fire,
that love can fix
all the broken things—
but only one
of those things is true,
only love
(fierce and soft
& full of fury)
can salve,
can salvage,
can mourn,
can bear witness—
here, we hold each other,
how we get through.
everything will be OK,
that the world isn’t on fire,
that love can fix
all the broken things—
but only one
of those things is true,
only love
(fierce and soft
& full of fury)
can salve,
can salvage,
can mourn,
can bear witness—
here, we hold each other,
how we get through.
October 24, 2025 at 11:54 PM
May 25, 2025 at 8:56 PM
I am an ocean
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem
September 25, 2026 at 12:46 AM
I could sweetly ruin
us, both leaning toward
the deep, wild
hearts running
headlong into madness,
the only thing
that ever makes any sense,
but what then?
After?
What do we do with the dark
after the dark? How do we call
ourselves
by our names again,
pulled out of the fire
we lit with willing hands?
us, both leaning toward
the deep, wild
hearts running
headlong into madness,
the only thing
that ever makes any sense,
but what then?
After?
What do we do with the dark
after the dark? How do we call
ourselves
by our names again,
pulled out of the fire
we lit with willing hands?
June 9, 2025 at 1:41 AM
September 30, 2026 at 12:44 AM
How do I explain a fear
I can’t look at,
won’t name—
I can tell you
that it feels
like a hurricane
in my heart,
a force of nature
at war
with hope,
the way
I want to run
and sing
at the same time,
to ask a question
I don’t want the answer to—
what if it all breaks?
what if it already has?
#TinyPoem
I can’t look at,
won’t name—
I can tell you
that it feels
like a hurricane
in my heart,
a force of nature
at war
with hope,
the way
I want to run
and sing
at the same time,
to ask a question
I don’t want the answer to—
what if it all breaks?
what if it already has?
#TinyPoem
July 18, 2025 at 12:13 AM
Today, let yourself be rain,
tomorrow, the whole storm,
this is not the end,
just a stopping place—
plant hope,
plant your heart,
plant every fierce longing,
remember
how things grow:
with care,
with love,
with two hands—
one of mine
and one of yours
will do just fine.
#TinyPoem
tomorrow, the whole storm,
this is not the end,
just a stopping place—
plant hope,
plant your heart,
plant every fierce longing,
remember
how things grow:
with care,
with love,
with two hands—
one of mine
and one of yours
will do just fine.
#TinyPoem
November 7, 2024 at 1:38 AM
You know what you know,
& the rest is bone
& ghost,
a haze of menace
without power,
the pale pretense
of foolish hearts--
the dark may speak,
but it’s smoke,
here & not here,
an offering to a dead
god, bread & pomegranate,
apple & salt,
this is how you make magick:
word after word
& hope.
#TinyPoem
& the rest is bone
& ghost,
a haze of menace
without power,
the pale pretense
of foolish hearts--
the dark may speak,
but it’s smoke,
here & not here,
an offering to a dead
god, bread & pomegranate,
apple & salt,
this is how you make magick:
word after word
& hope.
#TinyPoem
March 30, 2026 at 12:02 AM
Sometimes, old ghosts
become new problems,
& I don’t know how
to decide:
disappear or dive in?
Should I shut the door
or offer my heart
like a pomegranate,
a mess of delicious
fruit—
I, too, am this,
a hurricane of question marks,
a storm-song of wonder
& wondering—
is this hope
or a haunting?
become new problems,
& I don’t know how
to decide:
disappear or dive in?
Should I shut the door
or offer my heart
like a pomegranate,
a mess of delicious
fruit—
I, too, am this,
a hurricane of question marks,
a storm-song of wonder
& wondering—
is this hope
or a haunting?
April 3, 2026 at 7:58 PM
Kick in any amount and tell me here, and I’ll write you your very own #TinyPoem.
Friends, if you've been following @michaeldthomas.bsky.social or @lynnemthomas.com you know that their daughter Caitlin is in a bad way. A small group of us have organized a fundraiser to help them be able to be entirely present with Caitlin.
Please give them some love & support.
Please give them some love & support.
Lynne & Michael Thomas, organized by Mary Robinette Kowal
It has been a long and exhausting road for Caitlin Thomas and her parents, Lynne & Michael… Mary Robinette Kowal needs your support for Lynne & Michael Thomas
gofund.me
April 17, 2024 at 10:23 AM
Kick in any amount and tell me here, and I’ll write you your very own #TinyPoem.
March 1, 2025 at 10:56 PM
#Today, another rainy
July day; daisy grows,
#throws off gravity.
#DailyHaikuPrompt #vssdaily #prompt #poem #poetry #poet #haiku #micropoem #tinypoem #skypoet #writing #community #photography #nature #bloomscrolling
July day; daisy grows,
#throws off gravity.
#DailyHaikuPrompt #vssdaily #prompt #poem #poetry #poet #haiku #micropoem #tinypoem #skypoet #writing #community #photography #nature #bloomscrolling
July 16, 2025 at 4:16 AM
#Today, another rainy
July day; daisy grows,
#throws off gravity.
#DailyHaikuPrompt #vssdaily #prompt #poem #poetry #poet #haiku #micropoem #tinypoem #skypoet #writing #community #photography #nature #bloomscrolling
July day; daisy grows,
#throws off gravity.
#DailyHaikuPrompt #vssdaily #prompt #poem #poetry #poet #haiku #micropoem #tinypoem #skypoet #writing #community #photography #nature #bloomscrolling
June 6, 2025 at 12:35 AM
What’s sets the song
in your heart alight?
What breaks
the siege of sadness
hounding like a wolf
at the door?
What harbor heals
of its own accord—
no pretense,just softness,
gentle fingers
when the world
is a rage
of riot
& ruin—
who tells you
it’ll be alright—
without
using those words?
#TinyPoem
in your heart alight?
What breaks
the siege of sadness
hounding like a wolf
at the door?
What harbor heals
of its own accord—
no pretense,just softness,
gentle fingers
when the world
is a rage
of riot
& ruin—
who tells you
it’ll be alright—
without
using those words?
#TinyPoem
January 2, 2026 at 3:56 AM
You want it all—
to sink your teeth
into the silence,but not feel alone,
to linger in the dark
without swallowing secrets,
to pull the moon down
from the sky,a gift
of luminous grace,
an offering
of sweet wine,
of smoke-song,
of heart-wild longing—
instead,you step away
& don’t
look back.
#TinyPoem
to sink your teeth
into the silence,but not feel alone,
to linger in the dark
without swallowing secrets,
to pull the moon down
from the sky,a gift
of luminous grace,
an offering
of sweet wine,
of smoke-song,
of heart-wild longing—
instead,you step away
& don’t
look back.
#TinyPoem
October 5, 2025 at 12:22 AM
I am an ocean
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem
September 25, 2026 at 12:38 AM
I am an ocean
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem
of curious secrets,
depths full of salt
and song, a longing heart,
a wrecked ship,
a beacon across the night,
a creature of journey
and destination,
always reaching,
always leaving behind—
I know the grave
of hope,
and yet, the notes
start again,
somehow.
#TinyPoem