iOS app — free to download
Poema skips the algorithm. One poem, full screen, nothing else competing for the moment.
01 — Read
The home screen gives you one poem, full and uninterrupted. Swipe to move on. Linger as long as you like. No algorithm, no infinite scroll.
02 — Write
A dark canvas, a blinking cursor, and nothing else. Smart punctuation, auto-save as you draft, and one button to publish — or keep it private.
03 — Voice
After you publish, Poema asks if you'd like to read it aloud — up to 60 seconds. Readers hear you, not a text-to-speech engine.
"Most apps treat poetry as content — something to scroll past, to like, to share before you've finished the last line. Poema disagrees. A poem deserves silence before it, patience during it, and a moment after. We built a place that holds still."
— The Poema team
How it works
The home tab shows you one poem. Full. Centered. No caption, no likes count, no advertisement wedged in between stanzas.
Tap the terracotta pen. The editor opens in the dark — title, cursor, silence. Publish when you're ready. Keep it as a draft if you aren't.
Leave a margin note. Respond to a poem with a poem. Follow a poet whose work keeps finding you. No follower counts, no public metrics.
longing
hundreds
wonder
of
solitude
poems
joy
waiting
Filter by mood on the Explore tab — find the poem that fits the hour.
Questions
Free to download. No account required to read.
The Journal
Haiku, sonnet, free verse, villanelle — the names get thrown around, but what do they actually feel like to read and write? We break down seven of the most-used forms with real examples, plain-English explanations, and a note on when each form earns its shape. Knowing the rules makes breaking them feel like a choice.
There's a difference between skimming a poem and letting it land. A daily reading practice — just one poem, read twice, unhurried — has been shown to sharpen attention, expand emotional vocabulary, and quietly rewire how you notice the world. Here's what the research says, and how to actually make the habit stick.
Most poets start in the Notes app — and most poems stay there, unseen, sandwiched between grocery lists and half-remembered passwords. We look at what a purpose-built poetry space actually changes: the feel of the blank page, the decision to share (or not), and what happens when a poem can find a reader. This isn't a features comparison — it's a question about what writing is for.
Poetry didn't stop after the Romantics. Ten poets working today — writing about grief, joy, migration, the body, the mundane — prove that the form is as alive and necessary as it's ever been. Each entry comes with one poem to start with and a reason it might be the one that hooks you.