One Poem Only

A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.Tangerines and AlcoholismLabanya DeyMy mother peels tangerines Carefully scaling the orange fleshUntil her nails dig into the sour crevices Of the orange ballThe juices drip between her nails and fingertips As she puts them on a plateOn a bright afternoonAs she waits for them to be savouredAppreciated with the delicate eyes she yearns for.She sits by the table, nails scratching through the skinThe sweet juices bubble through her veins She sits and waits Where th...

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.Memory weighs more than boneCharlotte DawnYou can’t see the ghostsuntil you’re almost one—until your breath learns how to hesitate,until mirrors stop recognising youwithout thinking.They gather in the quiet margins:hospital hallways at 3 a.m.,old songs that bruise instead of heal,names you don’t say aloud anymore.The living pass straight through them,laughing, late for something,arms full of tomorrow.They don...

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.HarmonySeán TateHarmony, intermingled with melody, falls lightly from the heavensto coat the parched earth.Rough flakes made smooth by a rich flowing sequence.And the rhythm; listen as the rhythm courses down throughcracks to slumbering seeds.Listen to that steady beat: tap, tap, tap.Seeds aroused from peaceful repose, strumming and humming to their ownwild chorus; a deep dissonance.Compacted soil parts in compressed rattles, giving room for the buildingcrescendo.More from Seán Tate ↓@s...

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. Presence of ChoiceAlecia LewisI hold no one.They can come or go.Freely.Unbound.They may disconnectOnlineor in person.People may condemn me.I remain unshaken.Judgment falls.I do not carry it.If exiting brings peace,I let them go.With love.With grace.I hold only thoseWho choose to stay.The rest are shadows.I release them gently.More from Alecia Lewis ↓@n...

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 poemsSame Fire by Diana JoharResist by Francesca AcquavivaThe -ness of things by SanjeevaniWomen in Me by AyushiLast Year by Samah AyeshaTo Imagination by Emily BrontëPlus one new one to carry us into the week aheadPrattle On Maggie DeversA bird in a backpack walked byTweeting plaintively from insideAnd the crows kept up their racketWith little varianceBut I think...

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.To Imagination Emily Brontë When weary with the long day's care,And earthly change from pain to pain,And lost, and ready to despair,Thy kind voice calls me back again:Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,While then canst speak with such a tone!So hopeless is the world without;The world within I doubly prize;Thy world, where guile, and hate, and doubt,And cold suspicion never rise;Where thou, and I, and Liberty,Have u...

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise.Last YearSamah Ayeshai spent the better half of last yearstaring at the ceiling,watching it bend more crookedthe longer i looked.but it wasn't just the ceilingit was the walls, the floor,maybe my footing,maybe my mindfrom being indoors too long.each time i completed ablution,each time i laid down my mat to pray,it seemed off too.i checked the compass,adjusted,checked againbut the ma...

A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.Women in MeAyushiI think I gather dreams like picking up stonesnear an abandoned highway wherethe road leads nowhere,where the wind pants like a tiger breathingand the woman in me returns to lookfor the girl she had lost years agoperhaps the salt in me will return to the seaand the light in me will break opena door, a wound, a memory, that no one can shuta spring thunder, bolts me awake from a dreamI am dragging my...

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 -ness of thingsSanjeevaniSadness incurable. Hopelessness, hold on—brink of collapse—unstable ecosystems, volatile geopolitics,anthropological coldness.Kindness—let the spider live.Closeness—us two, are we corrupt too?A likeness—before the doom, a thought of younearly smothers me in blue.Fondness—find me after the apocalypse,remember, black holes decay—oneness.Madness—this world and I,an intrinsic brokenness.Wilderness—A state of being.I lose, and I losein...

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now.ResistFrancesca AcquavivaA burning wickof resistancein two seasof indifferencebitter coffeewith the sweetnessof the vehemencewith which the windwhispersI resistto desirein more than one headto becomecloversto sew togetherthe pagesthe speakersthe soft notestables pushed togetherclosewhile on the napkinsone knitsa validfutureto embroiderto knitthe handfulsof grainsto be sanda free beachwe have litwe want to lightamong the ruinsthe fingerprintsthe encephalogramthe commas stillstained with inkthe typingthe unionthe gaitthe way of speakingthe way of dressingsometimes deemedwrongthe only thing wrong isthe yoke of the dustof the old—not th...

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. Same Fire Diana Johar When things were beautiful,you stood in my corner—calling me strong, brave,everything you admired.But beauty dims.And now you say I’ve got out of hand,call me crazy,as if this same firewasn’t the reasonyou loved me once.So go—find another love,meek and gentle.Tell yourselfyou’ve done the right thing.While I go on burning—fierce,unapologetic,like the wayI...

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 poemsHuman Nature by Lynn L.Museum of Mourning by Maria CorcoranThe House with My Name Carved Into Its Teeth by Tess EzzyStill, something by Aditya GuptaThis Town by Macy WilliamsCentral Park At Dusk by Sara TeasdalePlus one new one to carry us into the week aheadThe Day AfterMaggie DeversThe birds careen at the same place in the sk...

One Poem Only is a daily ritual: one poem, center stage, just for now. Central Park At DuskSara TeasdaleBuildings above the leafless treesLoom high as castles in a dream,While one by one the lamps come outTo thread the twilight with a gleam.There is no sign of leaf or bud,A hush is over everything.Silent as women wait for love,The world is waiting for the spring.Support + Stay Connected to OPOIf you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members re...

One Poem Only is a daily poetry podcast offering a quiet moment with a single poem—read aloud, without analysis or noise. This Town Macy Williams This town knows many ways of moving. Some rush. Some pause. Some stop and start again. All of them count. I walk these streets with a body that does not follow the expected map. Some days it cooperates. Some days it asks for patienceI’m still learning how to give.Disability lives quietly here.In waiting.In adapting.In choosing rest without permission.In knowing limits with...

A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud. Still, something Aditya Gupta I stopped praying long ago. The gods grew tired of my voice, or maybe I just grew tired of asking for things that never came. My wallet’s thin, my dreams thinner a handful of words no one cared to read. Even my parents’ eyeslook at me like unfinished work,a draft they wish they could rewrite.And love,she always leavesbefore the song begins.I’ve learned the sound of silencet...

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...

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...

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...

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 ParkerPlus 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 h...

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...