#poemsporn

[lostdeadpoets]

“What is love?”

“Love is consideration. It's understanding way beyond what words might be able to convey. It's a conscious choice to hold, to respect, to admire, to protect and to turn back, like Orpheus did for Eurydice.

Love is peace, the feeling of freedom that you get to be anything that you want to be, and it's acceptance that your person would love you just the way you are.

Love is security that you feel in someone's presence that everything is safe— your heart, your secrets, your thoughts, your soul. and it’s the assurance that your shortcomings would always be looked at with the perspective to help you grow from and your traumas to be healed from.”

[jaggedjawjosh]

Your ambition fuels your journey, balance builds strength, and hope ignites your path. You're destined for greatness.

[zafpoetics]

I don’t have a favourite colour anymore. Blue plays tricks on my mind in the evenings. Brown pulls me into daydreams. Adulthood crawls out of my body when I stare at orange sunsets. I have been drifting through the waves of reality. I’m my true self in my room on weekends, but on weekdays, I am the performer, the audience, and the fourth wall. Somedays I cook because it’s a necessity; other days, it’s an escape. Some days, I’m a sunken ship, but mostly, life fascinates me.

[wimsylinnet]

I'm a dried patch of blood left on the battlefield - I'm neither war nor peace.

[hypocrite-alien]

Your love is lifeless and the distance you once hated is now gone. You are no longer suffering from the pain of being alone but you feel closer to your love. It’s dead.

[toomagazineperfection]

What is the phone rite?

What is the call summon?

What is the high life?

What is the mood?

What is the life of red height?

What is the God that took into a a life of medicine?

It's the law of police anthem and God-dead poetry.

I was a modern love.

I was the slowing donne of death.

I was the writing of arch.

I was the slowest education in the simplest way.

I.

Sunidhi's Taxi.

Sunidhi

[crypticccosmos]

I absolutely hate how science has figured out a way to define almost everything in the world. Like injecting in our minds the fact that, shaking of legs is an act of nervousness. Maybe it's not...maybe it's just an act. A mere sign of life, a feeling of being alive and breathing. Psychology says, that eye contacts symbolize truth, awareness and attention. As a living spirit, however, I believe them to be simple acts: of admiring someone. The colours, the warmth, the beauty of life that eyes behold. 

So, dear science, don't ruin the beauty of existence for me, with your complex theories and endless laws. Because poetry, words, people and the constant beating of my heart has taught me, that it's not meaningless to live in the moment and. Just. Breathe.

[sadchicck]

I don’t think I say this enough,
How grateful I am for the ones who stay—
The souls who remain when everything crumbles,
When the world falls apart and I’m lost in the fray.

I’m grateful for the connections, delicate and rare,
For the hands that reached out in moments I couldn’t see,
For the bonds formed in the quiet, unnoticed.

I grateful that God revealed the truth,
The faces I once admired now cracked with flaws—
And yet, in their imperfection, I see.

I’m grateful I’ve made it this far,
Though the road was never kind.
But at least the view is divine.
Still, I carry a weight I can’t shake,

For the things lost along the way—

But I keep walking,

Grateful, and yet still a little broken.

[sugacademia]

“Quiet orchestra and the blue haven”

Azure skies and endless clouds,

She is the songbird who flies for

her sounds;

Finds her beauty in the embrace of solitude

A sanctuary of peace ,

A refugee of untreated wounds.

Though quiet and shy,

Her voice roars and touch the sky When she sings,

When she loses her mind;

In the trampoline of melodies Her voice is one of a kind.

Yet she despises,

The applause and the chaos!!

Of the unhinged world

In blue tingled twilight

She finds her peace twirled.

The world might fade in a dreaded way

But yet her music will stay,

A beacon guiding her life

The home she yarns for every night.

The tingling chords and notes in a desert of life ,Indeed a gentle breeze

Makes her life little bit fine.

Melodies are the blue hued

Water that quench her thirst

Her introverted soul ,Where her emotions burst.

- ana

(The poem I wrote for my roommate )

[jaggedjawjosh]

In life's journey, health is the greatest wealth. He who possesses it finds a priceless treasure in every breath.

[bloodwriter1998]

Different

A world where you need to hide, a world where you need to abide. As your inner self has died, people do not know the times you cried.

A world where you would need to impress, a world where you would need to suppress. The real you that you want to express until your mind slowly becomes a mess.

People who expect you to be perfect, someone who doesn't have any defect. That's when they give you respect when you show them you are not a reject.

Parents disowning their children, just because they were different. You can only come back when you repent or experience hell's eternal torment.

This is still the world we live in, Can't be comfortable in your own skin. And just being yourself would be a sin. Whatever you choose you can never win.

[grishwrites]

[distantwriter]

He turned me into a weed

[penthethoughts]

things are going fine lately//

you wrap yourself around me,

and my heartbeat pacifies with the warmth.

glued to your body,

i find the stillness one craves in their home.

as my eyelashes spread wide like dawn's embrace,

in the mirror i glance the reflection of your face,

a side eye reveals your glaze on her,

a pang of pain, my heart gives a way.

a single tear drop kisses my cheeks,

and my heart turns bleak.

but things are going fine lately, i believe.

my eyes sparkling louder than the stars in your wait,

and hair cascaded like the rivers amid mountains,

nine o'clock, my thoughts intertwine,

a promise of dinner, forgotten or left behind?

expectations tightened, but things are going fine lately.

you’ve a chamber of secrets buried within,

and i have a ocean full of melancholy

drowning my love day by day,

if your life is the sky,

all i know is itʼs mostly blue,

if my life is the river,

all you know is itʼs flowing.

only if we could ever talk,

but love comes without expectations, right?

things are going fine lately, or are they?

set aside the frames of love,

but how does a human relationship

prospers without expectations?

questions guard my heart,

sorrow grips me, building a sword,

your ignorance, oh the rift it's caused.

the boat is sinking,

and itʼs never the expectations to be blamed,

your ignorant love,

putting me away from your fate.

things are dying lately,

and this time, i don’t expect you to mourn.

love without expectations,

indeed, is the purest form,

but loving without expectations,

demands the withdrawal,

of humanly emotions

embedded within our hearts' thrall.

//vishakha • @penthethoughts

[hypocrite-alien]

When nothing else could soothe my misery, books became my sanctuary. Reading was my favorite way to get through my days. Then I found you, and you became the most interesting being I'd ever read. Your complexity drew me in, making you a mysterious character. Your tale was incredibly infectious; I couldn't stop myself from reading you. You became my obsession, a habit I couldn't shake. I no longer wanted to wonder about you; I craved you so much. Sadly, your story ended before I could reach the happy ending. Left with unfinished pages, I found myself flipping the same page, reliving the same words.

[toomagazineperfection]

A light of the war.

A world to life burning life in me.

A word to essay teeth in me.

A lore to lower teeth in.

A lie.

A king of her fate.

Famous fates in the king.

War in the lie.

Pearls of her honour.

Bruise me high.

She loves.

She.

Sunidhi