“For every ending we survive reminds our weary soul, we’re alive. So walk it brave, though none can see the shape of what tomorrow will be. For life is not the plans we write, it's how we love and how we fight.” - Jason Strickland Stunning words by @Jason Strickland Most of you know Jason from Art or Poetry… but this deserves a moment 🖤 He recently called a few of us in to be part of a poetry book… and turned it into something super cool Page by page, he built a whole world. Voices, stories, emotion… all woven into a real book. Where Our Voices Begin : Poetry from The Art of Poetry Community I love poetry. I love the healing that comes from sitting with your thoughts and turning them into words. But I also love just reading it… getting lost in someone else’s world. I have books from some of the greats on my shelf… and now a few of poems, along with other incredible artists—some even in the Ink & Alchemy room right now—have a place there too. Publishing is not easy. At all. But Jason makes it look effortless… and that is so inspiring 🔥 I just want to hold him up on a pedestal for a moment. His vision and care turned this into something real—something you can actually hold in your hands 📚 And more than anything… he knows how to bring people together and create something meaningful. Grateful to be part of it. Grateful to witness it 🖤 This is what art looks like when it’s done right. PS you can read the book for free on your kindle, or for a couple dollars more purchase a hard copy that will be shipped out to you. Support Book Publishing at Art of Poetry Love Nikki

There are things we carry that never make it to the page… until now. Today’s challenge is simple—but it hits deep: Write the truth you almost didn’t share. The line you hesitated to say. The feeling you buried. The moment that still lingers in your chest. No filters. No overthinking. Just honesty in its rawest form. Your prompt: 👉 “I almost didn’t say this, but…” Finish the line. Let it unravel into whatever it needs to become— a poem, a fragment, a confession, a storm. 🔥 Bonus Twist (optional): Write it in 10 lines or less because truth doesn’t need to be long to be powerful. Drop your piece below and take a moment to read someone else’s. Because poetry isn’t just about being heard— it’s about listening, too. Let’s make today unforgettable.

The community Anthology Poetry Book Link for Amazon is https://a.co/d/0fUWzUWr

Ive been writing this for over a year a little at a time . Sorry for how long it is. The Difference Between Us They told me once the difference was simple, muscle and softness, voice and silence, storm and shelter. But life has a way of laughing at simple things. Because I have seen a woman carry grief like granite in her chest and never bend, and I have seen a man break quietly in a parked car with no one to hear him. So no, it’s not strength. They said a man builds, a woman nurtures, as if hands know their purpose before the heart does. But I’ve watched women build entire worlds from nothing, homes out of heartbreak, hope out of ashes, and men hold something fragile like it might disappear if they breathed too hard. So no it’s not purpose either. Maybe it’s how they love. A man, they say, loves like a fire fast, consuming, all or nothing, burning bright until he learns how to keep it alive. A woman she loves like water steady, shaping, patient enough to carve mountains without ever raising her voice. But even that falls short. Because I have seen men love with quiet devotion show up every day, no speeches, no spotlight, just presence like sunrise that never forgets to come back. And I have seen women love like lightning, sudden, fierce, unforgettable, leaving a mark that time itself can’t erase. So what is it then? Maybe it’s this, a man is taught to carry the weight of the world without asking for help, to be the wall, the shield, the one who doesn’t fall apart. And a woman, she’s taught to carry everyone else’s world while still being expected to smile, to soften, to make it all look effortless. Different burdens. Same exhaustion. A man learns silence early that his pain is something to outgrow, something to swallow, something to turn into work, or anger, or distance. A woman learns that her voice is powerful but only if it’s gentle, only if it’s agreeable, only if it doesn’t shake the room too much. Different rules. Same cage. And somewhere in between all that

🔥 HOW TO PARTICIPATE: You should’ve already requested the two groups you need to become a member in Art of Poetry @Jason Strickland https://www.skool.com/the-art-of-poetry-1080/about?ref=6b179067c1f04493b47e8d92e42e2d6d Alive Poets Society https://www.skool.com/dead-poets-society-5071/about And you should’ve already started your poem in art of poetry (1️⃣ Start your poem in Art of Poetry) 2️⃣ Continue it in Ink & Alchemy ⬇️⬇️⬇️ Continue your poem by adding a challenge or emotional shift. What changed after that moment? What did it feel like as things started to unravel… or take shape? Write 2–6 lines that build tension and carry the poem forward Next head over to the next group for your final prompt ; 3️⃣ Finish it in Alive Poets Society