©2026 WickedLizzie - dark glitch art portrait of a classical statue face with an original poem about aging and rage overlaid in white text.

#WickedLizzie #Art #DisabledPoet #PoetryCommunity #GlitchArt #DigitalArt #OriginalPoetry #FeministPoetry #CroneEnergy #WomensVoices #VisualPoetry #DarkAesthetic #CreativeWriting #PoetryLife #AuDHDVoices

Photo (https://unsplash.com/photos/a-close-up-of-a-statue-of-a-woman-dOKH6mWe7PA) by Merly Black (https://unsplash.com/@merly_black) on Unsplash.

Digital glitch concept with poem ©2026 WickedLizzie.

New mystical poem up on Without Authority: “And We Shall Be Dangerous”, which is Hymn To Aphrodite 7. I hope that you all like it.

#pagan #witch #Aphrodite #poetry #poem #originalpoetry #originalpoem

https://open.substack.com/pub/sororalice/p/and-we-shall-be-dangerous?r=1klaj2&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Art: Odilon Redon, “Angel Executions, (1890)

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔: “𝑼𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑾𝒆 𝑺𝒊ng (𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒛𝒛𝒆)” -

The epithalamion is a challenging, even problematic, form today. Originally a poem to “celebrate” the bride on her way to the bridal chamber, the ancient forms were quasi-religious, ironic in this thin veiling of voyeurism and libertinism.

Here, a contemporary spin.

https://waywordsstudio.com/verse/upon-this-night-we-sing-per-nozze/

#poetry #poetrycommunity #originalpoetry #writingcommunity #epithalamion #satire #weddingpoem #socialmediagg

After Effect

Despite the darkness,
I am growing.
There's a place inside me knowing.
I learned from you how to survive,
But you didn't teach me how to thrive.
I learned that on my own
Long after I'd grown.

©2026 WickedLizzie

Photo of me &my grandmother in 1969.

#WickedLizzie #Poetry #OriginalPoetry #AfterEffect #Poetry #Poetrycommunity #WritingCommunity #HealingJourney#PhotoPoetry #WordsAndArt #Trauma #Growth #EmotionalArt #VintagePhoto #MixedMediaArt #CreativeWriting

On the theme of "The Sea", I recently won a local poetry competition with this one...

A Quiet Touch
by Lee Russell

In the brittle sunshine I was cold,
aching fingers seeking yours,
while gulls wheeled white arcs above,
crying sharp laughter, and below,
the sea breathed in shallow gurgles,

teasing the surf line,
pleasing itself with deeper thunders
of soothing mystery.
Each pulse alive, inscribing dry ink
on a restless script of sand.

Then clouds erupt with light,
sudden flares of molten gold
spilling across a rusting bollard.
Hushed warmth brushes my face,
caressing a slow tear, and I see,

the swell gathering in folds,
breaking on my feet in soft sighs.
I feared that surge, the hours folding in waves,
until your hand found mine,
and the day quietens,
anchored in time.

#poetry #OriginalPoetry

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: "𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬" -

Admittedly, this "poem" has a bit of inside/very local humor, mostly as an affront to aesthetic decency. Still . . .

https://waywordsstudio.com/verse/multitudes/

#poetry #originalpoetry #adverbs #languagefun #antipoetry #aesthetics #poeticstyle #absurd

New poem up on Without Authority: “Write About Love”. I hope that you all like it.

#poem #poetry #originalpoem #OriginalPoetry

https://open.substack.com/pub/sororalice/p/write-about-love?r=1klaj2&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Art: Sir Edward Burne-Jones, “The Love Song”, (1868-1877)