#PoetryAcrossTime They found this written in the hollow of a beam, tucked where pitch met timber - a place no officer would bother to look, a place meant for secrets, or prayers, or the kind of truth that stains. They found this written by a hand salt-burned and trembling, ink thinned with seawater, letters wandering like a man who has forgotten the shape of home. We came on a wooden belly lashed together by men who never sailed her, chasing a dream sold by those who never meant to follow. The storms took our sleep, the hunger took our softness, and the cold - the cold took the rest. They told us the Cape was a jewel, a place where a man might rise if he worked hard, prayed harder, and kept his head bowed to the right kind of king. But when the shoreline rose like a dark shoulder against the dawn, we saw no jewel - only a wildness that breathed, and watched, and did not care for our arrival. The wind spoke first, then the surf, then the silence of those who had walked this soil long before empire learned to spell its own name. We stepped ashore with pockets empty and promises heavy, chasing fortunes minted in rooms we would never enter, for men whose boots never touched the mud that swallowed our own. They said we were pioneers. But pioneers are only pawns with better stories. We feared the storms at sea, but we feared the storms on land more - the ones made of muskets, and hunger, and the quiet knowledge that we were building a world for someone else's sons. Still, we hoped. God help us, we hoped. For a patch of earth, for a roof that didn't leak, for a life not borrowed from the ledger of another man's greed. If you read this, know we were not blind - we knew the empire fed itself on the backs of the ordinary, and called it destiny. So let this stand as witness, as warning, as the quiet truth beneath the louder lies: We came seeking fortune, but found only ourselves - and the long shadow of those who profited from our belief. They found this written. And now so have you.

A tremor begins in the quiet corners of my chest a hum, then a roar a perpetual state of being on the edge of something I cannot name but feel in the marrow of my bones. I am sacred of everything. Not the grand, the dramatic, the obvious but the mundane, the breath I take in, the silence that follows a spoken word, the space between my hand and the air it inhabits. Why this constant unease? This tightrope walk across an unseen chasm where every step feels precarious. To stand, to assert, to claim my space feels like a monumental effort, a battle I am already losing before I even begin. The words catch in my throat, unformed, unheard, a flock of startled birds refusing to take flight. Love, a concept whispered in hushed tones by others, feels like a territory too wild to explore, too dangerous to inhabit. To prove, what even is that? A desperate reaching for validation, a constant performance for an audience I can only imagine, their faces blurred, their judgments sharp. And the crowd grows. Each passing face a potential interrogator, a silent accuser. I do not know why. Am I too much? A vibrant, chaotic storm that threatens to overwhelm? Or am I not enough? A pale shadow, a flickering candle easily extinguished by a careless breath. The question itself a torment, a mirror reflecting only doubt. Every person, a landscape of potential threat. Will they vanish like mist, leaving me adrift? Will they lash out, their words or their hands, leaving scars I cannot see? Will they dismiss me, their casual decree that I am incapable, unworthy of even trying? And their thoughts. Oh, their thoughts. A phantom chorus in my mind, mocking, dissecting, rehearsing my every perceived flaw. Is this merely hesitation? A gentle pause before action? Or a paralysis, a deep rooted fear of the human gaze, of the very essence of being seen. Anthropophobia, they might call it. A word for a feeling that has become the very air I breathe. A quiet, constant hum of not wanting to be.

Speak It Into Being It’s that time again where the stars and planets influence our art at Ink & Alchemy What happening: Mercury conjunct Sun in AriesPeak: April 19, 2026 Themes: Mind + soul align Words act Words create Speak fear → it growsSpeak truth → it expands Everything EXPANDS Your Prompt 1️⃣ Choose one desire, fear, or truth 2️⃣Write as if words = reality 3️⃣ Use bold, direct language 4️⃣Add a second meaning underneath 5️⃣Let each line create something 6️⃣Build intensity 7️⃣End with an irreversible result Example I call the clouds closer by name The air thickens around my veins Each word pulls weight from the sky Till rain answers in masterful supply Your turn Post it below ⬇️

I’d like to take a moment to thank @Jason Strickland for inviting us to celebrate NATIONAL POETRY MONTH with two other beautiful poetry communities. We participated alongside Art of Poetry and Alive Poets Society for the month of April 2026. It’s been an amazing 30 days of writing… and we will keep these threads of living art on the wall to look back on throughout the coming years. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 Applause to everyone of you that joined in the fun and made new friends and connections here in Ink & Alchemy & the two other communities. I look forward to continuing to serve you by leading this community and inspiring creative writing through poetry, short stories, and song THANK YOU 🙏 Here is your final NPM prompt 🌍 National Poetry Month Event — Final Day 🌍 Three communities. Three spaces. Hundreds of voices… And somehow, for one month— we became one. What started as an idea turned into something real. Poets from The Art of Poetry Community, Alive Poets Society, and Ink & Alchemy didn’t just share words… You shared space. You shared energy. You showed up for each other. That doesn’t happen by accident. That’s rare. And honestly? That’s powerful. So for our final day, we’re not just ending an event… We’re honoring what we built together. 👉 Write a poem about connection. A moment. A person. A feeling. Something that reminds you that you’re not writing alone in this world. Because after this month— You’re not. Drop your final poem below 👇 Let it mean something. And when this ends… Don’t disappear. Cross communities. Stay connected. Keep writing. Because what we started here? It doesn’t have to end today. — 🔥 The Art of Poetry Community on Skool 🔥 Alive Poets Society 🔥 Ink & Alchemy

Double Meanings!! Have you ever noticed how one thing can mean two things at once? Like in Eyes Wide Shut by Stanley Kubrick The Masks They seem to hide identity.But they actually reveal the truth at the masked ritual, no names, no roles.With faces covered, desire, power, and vulnerability surface.The mask doesn’t conceal the person it exposes them. Or in The Shining, also by Kubrick The Twins They seem like just two girls.But they represent repetition.A cycle that doesn’t end.A pattern that keeps returning. One image - two meanings Write something simple that secretly means more Your Prompt 🧃 Write about a food or drink you didn’t like at first, but later started to enjoy or ask for 👀 Describe it simply (taste, smell, texture, moment) 🔁 Show changeYou once rejected it. Now you want it 🎭 Give it a second meaningLet it become a symbol for something deeper 🏠 Create a small world with rulesWho decides? What must be finished? What isn’t allowed? 🫧 Keep the surface simpleLet the deeper meaning sit underneath 🔓 End with a revealThe last line should make the real meaning clear Example: My first sip of Diet Sprite burned sharp but regaled my fright You said it was better, you said I’d learn to like The sour flavor and soothing life Hate the taste as it dissipates Aches and ailing pains disintegrate Till it becomes my everyday My acquired fate My love and my restraint By Nikki J Double Meaning: It is a soothing drink, but it also reflects an arranged-type love affair. Someone “good” is chosen for the writer by someone else. At first there’s resistance, then adaptation, until it becomes something accepted, even loved. Ok your turn Quick Steps 1. Choose a food or drink you once rejected 2. Describe it simply with sensory detail 3. Show how your feelings changed over time 4. Turn it into a symbol for something deeper 5. Add “rules” that hint at control or meaning 6. Keep the surface simple, don’t explain 7. End with a line that reveals the true meaning