Intimum

Intimum Thoughts – Psychology Poetry Summer 2026 collection ‘Dark seas’

We all feel things that we wish to share. 🌊
We all have this inner need to connect.

Join us in an attempt to explore the Self! Whether it’s a fleeting reflection or a deep-seated emotion, your voice has a home here.

We are looking for your thoughts in the form of poems or prose. Art is meant to be shared—and sharing is the first step toward understanding the “Dark Seas” within ourselves. You can also post anonymously by stating a pseudonym or no name at all when you submit.

✨ Selected submissions will be featured in our Summer 2026 Collection on the Intimum portal, with a series of poetry recital events to follow.

📅 Deadline: 31st August 2026

How to contribute:
🔗 Submit via: intimum.eu/contact-us/
📧 Email: intimum.chrysp@gmail.com
💬 Or simply leave your poem as a comment in our Facebook community here!

intimumpoetry #intimum #intimumThoughts #poetrycollection #psychology #poetsofinstagram #darkseas #creativewriting

What to Send: Poems exploring the self, psychology, or the landscape of human emotion. Any length, style or form is welcome.

Deadline: 31st August 2026

How to Submit: Either through the Contact Us page or via email at intimum.chrysp@gmail.com. You can also add a comment in this page. Or just use the form below.

Submitted poems

This section contains the poems that were submitted and approved for the collection.

The Darker Side of Life

I lived in a land of total despair
With my friends, suicide tendencies I did share.
No work, no food, just starvation
A corrupt government causing desperation
I need to leave this vile world
A new life for me must be unfurled
Onto a dinghy I was thrown
Told to leave and find a new home
Many days in a sea so rough
My life was now incredibly tough
Would I survive, I had my doubts
As I got weaker with sickness bouts
My hands and face now red and sore
Surely my body couldn’t take much more
A new life in another land felt out of reach
Then suddenly I saw lights along a beach
My heart shuddered with great expectation
As our perilous journey had reached it’s destination.
But past the lights our boat sailed on
and soon the glow was almost gone.
Onto a shore we came to rest
In total darkness and insect infest
In the cold and stony silence we felt so insecure.
Having travelled from one life of poverty
to a dark grey totally miserable looking shore.

~ Richard Palmer

Mother Tongue

The virus of love remains alive; it never disappears.
It stays asleep in the furniture, in the sheets, waiting patiently for us in rooms, in caves, in the pages of our poems.

Through wandering notebooks, a view from my city.
But I no longer recognize any heartbeat from there now.
Here is my city.
Where I met you.
And everything that you are and
The years pass, magazines change their covers and I walk through these streets
That I now know so well.

I see myself in the mirror wearing this dress sewn from memories.
And I see someone, but it isn’t me, though perhaps it could have been
If I had stayed there in the damp prison cell
Of a life waiting for me to return…

In these sunny hours the wrinkles dance on my face when you appear in my path.
Do you still remember…
Do you still know when…
What times those were…
But I remember nothing.
And to return to your arms
I would have to burn my life here and leave it as an offering at the entrance,
To listen to an unknown language
Whose words I understand completely.

The air is so warm we can walk barefoot on broken glass
And at last I can gather all the memories.
You are not in my mind for more than two minutes at a time
A walk through a museum of lost objects
Where once you caressed my skin with words,
The same words I hear now.
I recognize your voice.
At last I am not ashamed to understand your language.
But how can two different mouths breathe poetry onto me
With the same handwriting?

Let’s climb onto this nocturnal ship,
Let’s dance on it, sleep on it, wake somewhere far away, very far
In the north.
And through these dark curtains make love to me
Like a poet writing his greatest poem
With disappearing ink.

And the sea breathes. Its lungs move to the rhythm of the algae.
The wind sets fires in my chest; the flame flared when I reread the poems about you. Entire forests of memories turn to ash, inside an ashtray I keep on my nightstand.

But the virus of love remains alive; it never disappears.
And one day this love will awaken, its echo
A rain of shooting stars,
And we, two timeless souls rising above my city.
Or ours.

~ Anisia Evelyne Morariu

Tao Came To See

But it’s been just the Bird.
I’ve heard but the Cranes singing.
That’s how the Satori revealed about the World’s twitters and chirpings.
The whole of the Melody is You.
It’s so silent.
No place for the sound Here.
Everything is just the Enlightenment.
It’s so dark.
What else?
It’s roughly the midnight.
Where are my cranes?
I am all of these pictures.
Or not.
And NOW can’t give the answer, because…
IT SIMPLY IS!

~ Krešimir Butorac

Untitled

Filled with joy

A small tear

Oh, I wish you were here

~ Spyridon Kakos

Eternity in an envelope

What makes you think you exist?
stick some needles in your eyes
maybe then you’ll see
that you are nothing
but a smell in my nostrils.

Have a drink with me
while I tear sentences out of the newspaper
until I find the words from your mouth
that come toward me
like an emergency call
left ringing
into the void.

because of you, I know what it means to be alone
one minute before three, we were together
I don’t care if you’ll remember me
I don’t care what you felt yesterday or
what you’ll feel tomorrow.
One day you will forget my
face.
voice.
eyes.

As if you had ever known
that I was the love of your life

you always wonder
what I do when

dawn appears

///

when the moon rises.

~ Anisia Evelyne

Marathon Motel

I could have frozen your thoughts
Dried out your tongue
I am not afraid of your prayers.

The house seems empty
No one walks the hallways
But the wood already knows the footsteps
No object falls by accident
The blinds are lowered
Like on a summer afternoon
The silence is so heavy in the shade.

Everything is in its place, too much in its place
As if after someone who never left
They are outside, ears pressed to the door
They listen
Hour by hour, but the door doesn’t keep them out
You don’t turn on the light
So they won’t see you
So they won’t know you
You breathe lightly
So they won’t hear you
But the house breathes for you
The walls carry forward
Everything you try to keep
Close to you.

Close to you
There is someone invisible
Unfeeling, watching you
Listening to your thoughts
Keeping them
It has always been here, waiting
For you to become something.

You are afraid of the shadows of the trees
Of their shapes on the walls
Of things that no longer move
Not even when you hold them.

Don’t move away from the house
The door has been left open
And no one came in
Because they were already inside.

I run
I don’t turn back to see the city in flames
I run until every sign disappears
That anything ever existed
Until there is no road left
Until there is no trace left
Until even the earth no longer remembers me.
It was easier when I only imagined it
It was as if it were there
I thought I could get out
But I carry it inside me.

The road leads nowhere
But it continues
It was simpler
When things did not respond
When silence was a part of me
Now it has shape, rhythm
I no longer hear anything
I have given up running.

Everything has stopped
They all have the same voice
They all say the same things
They speak as if they know me
Half of me listens to them
Half speaks in unison
With them.

~ Anisia Evelyne

Certainly, maybe (with my head in the clouds)

I gasp.

Night sneaks into the city the way I slip into this bed
Engulfed in flames
Blue.

Everything I feel returns to you like a navigation toward nowhere.

I drown.

My body has become a mine
The folds and hollows of the sheets unsettle me
I am a tick
An existence reduced to the level of a material: insensitive to cold, to heat, to pain.

I tremble

This place is wild
Somewhere even I arrived at by mistake
On an ordinary afternoon that itself meant nothing
The whole city blurs into an uneven mass
With trees of exasperating stillness
With its dust
Ordinary.

The room itself falls in love with you
As if it preserves the memory of a catastrophe
A smell of sulfur like after an explosion.
A warm intimacy radiates from the walls
Slides over the furniture
over objects
over me and I become part of them
Like an organ forced to enter your living body, so alive,
which until just before had been foreign to you.

I breathe

A new perfume invented by us
That I now feel all around
Then when I look in the mirror
I see your movements, so restless, trying to show me how much you want to love me
Trying to free me from the prison of my clothes
And everything around us swallows us
Sinks its tentacles in so naturally
Drowns us in the infinite solitude
Of the room.

And suddenly
I felt that no one and nothing in this world can ever reach an end
And the sky
So absurd
Takes on the color of a bed
Engulfed in flames
Blue.

~ Anisia Evelyne

Untitled

I often forget my name
and do not always
finish my dreams
Every morning I give away
baked bread
in desolate streets
The world has been deserted
for an eternity
Instead of churches I build
a new heart
that has no walls

~ IONUȚ CALOTĂ

The wolf

I like sleeping inside the wolf ‘s mouth
It smells of honey
His tongue a tender hibiscus
It wraps around my teeth
In the armchair
On the floor
I loved this wolf
More than the sheep
At least he remembered my name.

~ Kornilia Kadoglou