The Light Within

Wife. Mother. Poet. Inspired by this human experience (both joyful and painful). I hope you find some light here.

Writer, poet, and maker. Blindly following the thread of an idea wherever it insists on going, even when it’s inconvenient.

We are echoes of time. I happen to like writing about that.

\ud83e\udec0 big feelings girlie // poet and speculative fiction writer // bookworm // rarely posting pieces in real time ✨

I'm Nancy Holroyd -- school nurse, mother of three and writer. Disability advocacy, grief, parenting and school nursing is my focus.

widowed, father, voyager

poet + programmer | creator of opol ~ a quiet space for poetry ⋆˙⟡

I am a mother, a sister, writer, a friend, a truth-seeker, animal lover, retired social worker/therapist, and amateur philosopher. Notice what comes first. I write to learn what I really think.

Only alive because of caffeine and poetry. My writing focuses on grief although once in awhile an upbeat squirrel sneaks in. ko-fi.com/tangle79

I'm a teacher and writer. My poetry has appeared in Abridged, Shooter, Ink, Sweat & Tears and The Alchemy Spoon.

Image bearer of God and name bearer of Jesus, working to create beauty with words.

Longtime seeker for home and belonging. Gradually finding it in the Earth and on the inward path that reveals that I never left home to begin with.

I’m a poet and photographer. Reading helps me survive. Writing helps me make sense of what I’m trying to survive.

Illustrating and creating digital art for Substackers. Preserving human creativity and inspiring others to do the same. Wife and mom. Loving the journey. Keeping it fun. Doodling. Focusing on things that connect and unite us all.\ud83d\ude0a\ud83d\udc95

Reads everything, feels everything, writes poetry and essays. Author of the poetry collections Murmurations and Tender is the Light. Neurodivergent. Literal treehugger.

I’m a poet living with chronic illness, writing through the changes of life and the emptiness. This is where I write reflections on what it feels like to live inside a changing body.

a place for artistry // I create things from various mediums; words, yarn, clay, paint, flowers

Autistic poet drafting a slow & creative life. Studying by candlelight the craft of a poem, how to bring our spirits home.

Welcome! This is where dreams float and stars sing me lullaby! A healthcare professional believing that readers and writers have a symbiotic relationship! "Be kind. You never know where and how you will end up." Me.

My poetry reads like the teenage me shoulder tapping at the laundry mat, hoping to get a bottle at the liquor store. -PD Hurt

Healing beyond survival. Writing about inherited trauma, nervous-system healing, chronic pain, ancestral patterns, and embodied freedom.

I really appreciate you being here. My name is Phill, I'm from a place called Wakefield, which is in Yorkshire (UK). A father of two boys, dog and cat owner and pain in the neck to Adele.

If you think you hear music in my poetry, you are not mistaken. Formerly a violinist and a composer, my music lives now in lines and stanzas. It is the rhythm of remembrance you feel when you hear my words.

Depth Charge: Weekly Poetry ~ Journalling With Jodi

\ud83c\udf41 Istvan Markan. I write crap. Poet. Storyteller. TTRPG. Armchair philosopher. Rabid agnostic. Random acts of kindness. Rarely good. Sometimes naughty. Oddly you’ll like it.\ud83c\udf41

Poet and scribbler of novel in progress...

Napalmjax Protocol activated. I write doors not explanations. Welcome to DOORWAYS I.D.N.O.D.- Ignorance Does Not Open Doors

Coquo ergo sum, reader, writer, artist, explorer, believer in magic \ud83d\udcab

ELD teacher in the South by day, queer, mixed, neurodivergent poet by night, I don't use AI when I write.

As a writer, whose work moves like breath through poetry, essays, and short stories, I find myself sometimes lost. As a retired Marine, seminarian, and chaplain, whose words behave like life itself, I honors them not from ego but from self‑respect.

Irish writer, overthinker, reluctant adult. Humour is cheaper than therapy. Stories about Ireland, motherhood, and stuff that gets under my skin. Glorious chaos.

Leaping into the Mystery, leaning into the flow, and welcoming transformation. A teacher, mother, poet, waterfall chaser... hoping to share some treasured moments of the human journey.

A landing spot for the ones who live in the space between silence and yearning. Who crave softness, intensity, truth, and touch. No answers here. Just breath and ink. Only always.

Processing life one page at a time. Reflections, stories, poems, and lessons on heart break, friendship, self love, and motherhood.

Mother. Writer. Maternal mental health advocate.

Poet + photographer. I play cello almost daily. I find meaning in small details of nature and peace paddling on water. My dogs are my heart floating outside my body. I think we have a lot to learn from trees.

Collecting my thoughts and spitting them out (gently). Enjoying others’ thoughts, too.

Living near to Dùn Èideann. I am an Ovate Druid. Trying to create an identity , recreate a needing, negotiate a path with Grief. Learning to paint and write my own poetry. Vegetarian now Vegan.

poet + lyricist • writing about family estrangement, love after heartbreak, and using truth to heal \ud83d\udc98 tender-feral \ud83e\udeb6

I love poetry, music and white wine \ud83d\udc8c poems & pictures by myself ✨ subscribe for more poems \ud83d\udcdd