October 2026 packs a lot into thirty-one days for poets — first-book prizes, single-poem contests, translation awards, and a few big travel opportunities all close this month. Below is a curated roundup of poetry contests October 2026 and related calls we verified on official contest or publisher pages. Always double-check guidelines (fees, eligibility, and formatting) before … [Read more...] about Poetry Submission Deadlines October 2026
The Spirit., By: Emily Dickinson
'T is whiter than an Indian pipe,'T is dimmer than a lace;No stature has it, like a fog,When you approach the place. Not any voice denotes it here,Or intimates it there;A spirit, how doth it accost?What customs hath the air? This limitless hyperboleEach one of us shall be;'T is drama, if (hypothesis)It be not tragedy! … [Read more...] about The Spirit., By: Emily Dickinson
The Spider., By: Emily Dickinson
A spider sewed at nightWithout a lightUpon an arc of white.If ruff it was of dameOr shroud of gnome,Himself, himself inform.Of immortalityHis strategyWas physiognomy. … [Read more...] about The Spider., By: Emily Dickinson
You Should Have Met Me Later, By: Allison Walters Luther
You should have met me later (so much later)After years away from my stifling hometown (and the unseen trauma of childhood)After days spent wailing on the floor (not 'cause of you; don’t give yourself that much credit)After nights teetering on the edge of nothingness (and thinking … [Read more...] about You Should Have Met Me Later, By: Allison Walters Luther
The Soul’s Storm., By: Emily Dickinson
It struck me every dayThe lightning was as newAs if the cloud that instant slitAnd let the fire through. It burned me in the night,It blistered in my dream;It sickened fresh upon my sightWith every morning's beam. I thought that storm was brief, --The maddest, quickest by;But Nature lost the date of this,And left it in the sky. … [Read more...] about The Soul’s Storm., By: Emily Dickinson
The Soul Unto Itself, By: Emily Dickinson
The soul unto itselfIs an imperial friend, --Or the most agonizing spyAn enemy could send. Secure against its own,No treason it can fear;Itself its sovereign, of itselfThe soul should stand in awe. … [Read more...] about The Soul Unto Itself, By: Emily Dickinson