#writing poems

[rstandsforromance]

is it easy to love and be loved?

patience, persistence, pain never will outweigh the blossoming feeling of butterflies in the garden of your heart and the healing it does to your soul.

love, as it is, requires the greatest seen effort as well as those that are too menial to be noticed.

to yearn for the warmth of contact, and embrace to never let go

to catch oneself longing for the presence, and endure the pain of waiting

to ponder what the world offers, and to give a piece of the earth

to care and nourish the wellbeing, and to wish well on the wanders

to continue what is good and kind, and to push through the madness of emotions.

to live life as your own, and to live life being theirs

[logophilist1982]

Emily Brontë

[hotteststar]

another poem bcs why not?

THAT'S WHAT THEY CALL IT

dysphoria, they call it,

but i think it's an empty name.

when you read it, you don't feel

all the pain that lives behind it.

you don't feel the pain in your chest,

you can't know how much it hurts.

you know nothing about the confusion

that that name can unleash in our hearts.

tell me, do you ever look in the mirror

and see a wrong version of you?

like you wish you were more androgynous,

but still say it's nothing.

you are what's between your legs,

nothing more, nothing less.

you can't change it and you can't switch.

you were born that way, that's it.

and then you start wondering

what it could be like

to be who you truly are, to be born again,

but in the right body this time.

to feel good when you look at your hands,

not to be scared of changing your clothes,

to be able to look at your groin without

that feeling, that lump in your throat.

i was born wrong.

i was born in a body that i don't feel mine.

i was born through a mistake.

i was born, but i don't feel alive.

i watch other people;

they are something i'll never be.

they are confident, strong.

they are so right; they are nothing like me.

'cause i'm wrong.

i am, i know it now; i can try to change it,

but that's still the truth,

even if i lie to myself and everybody else,

i still live in a body that i

don't recognize as mine.

[bazeleyez]

Not a Poet

By: Bazeleyez

17/6/2024

Spilled ink stains my fingertips

And in the bathroom sink I scrub them free

Of the fleeting freedom they felt

From the gripping of a pen

To the scritching friction upon paper

Writing down pleas of desperation

From an imprisoned soul, wailing in her cage

Locked up in chains away from prying eyes

Here on these pages are the burdens I unleash

To be shared between the pen and l; solemnly alone

For the others would cast me out

While sharing their whispers of dismay

So once the bleeding ink runs dry

I shall chain it all back up

Placing it under lock and key

Because in this world

I cannot be a poet

[cb-writes-stuff]

Orchids are green

But nobody cares

Waxed lightly weathered cut copper stairs

[mysweetenedheart]

Another poem about feminine rage.

written by me.

[ojo-rojo]

Lewis Chamberlain: "Astronomy".

[same-skies]

Standing alone

I gave you everything that I had, The good, the bad, the happy and the sad, Yet none of that mattered in the end, You weren’t a lover, or a friend,

You took my heart and left it bare, A hollow shell, stripped of care, Promises whispered in the night, Faded away with morning light,

In the silence, I found my voice, A chance to heal, a brand new choice, To mend the pieces, one by one, And face the world, my journey begun,

Through tears and pain, I learned to see, The strength that’s always been in me, With every step, I grew more whole, Reclaiming pieces of my soul,

I found solace in the quiet days, In gentle words and healing ways, Embracing scars, both old and new, A testament to what I’ve been through,

Resilience became my guiding star, A beacon shining from afar, Through darkest nights and stormy seas, I found the courage to believe,

That every fall is not the end, But a chance to rise and mend, With every challenge, I grew more wise, Seeing life through clearer eyes,

Now I stand alone, but strong, Learning where I truly belong, For in the ashes of what’s past, I find a love that’s built to last.

With hope as my companion true, I see the world in brighter hues, A future filled with endless light, Emerging from the darkest night.

[greater-grief]

pieces of you

you may have left me long ago.

our love left to sit on a shelf and grow dusty,

but no matter how desperately i try, i can't forget you.

your shadow haunts my room,

the stain of your messy departure still forever staining the carpet,

pieces of what was left of us prick my fingers as i attempt to move on.

feverishly i try to sweep, scrub, mop, anything to make it all go away. to make it all brand new.

untouched.

like it never happened.

but no amount of soap will cleanse me.

[laurels-corner]

Looking for new peeps to follow, if you blog about any of the following:

Dark romanticism

Catholic guilt

Poetry

Philosophy

History

Fantasy / gothic / thriller writing

Like this post and I’ll check out your blog.

[jacuzziwrites]

And when I take my last breath on this Earth will you tell me the story of my life? Will you tell me about the lives that I impacted? Will you tell me that I was kind? Will you tell me that I was loved? Please. Lull me into a peaceful slumber with your pretty lies. Please. Show me compassion. For tonight I have died a sinner.

[logophilist1982]

R.Queen Poem

[hotteststar]

um guys i'm backkkkkk (did you miss us? cause we missed youuu) with another poem. that's kinda about jegulus bcs it talks about the sun so yeah it is reg and james coded <3

DO YOU?

i just realized that

maybe you were like the sun

and I just flew too close?

maybe i fell and i'm sill falling

because I was going to burn?

is that so?

will i always be a human

whos trying to fly and reach the sun

while he minds his own business

and only pay attention to the earth?

really?

i will never find the right pair of wings 

so i can fly and touch ya, right?

i'll just keep looking and wait, then,

until my eyes burn, i guess.

but do even see it?

do you see the pain i feel everytime i fall?

do you hear all the noises,

while I try not to cry in front of you?

don't you see how i keep my tears?

and if you do, are you at least sad for me?

or do i really mean nothing to you, uh?

[happpeopledonotwritepoetry]

Under the Dock

Do you go somewhere and think

“Man, I bet there is a body hidden here”

What does that look like for you?

I found my spot

It is dark

It is cold

It is wet

What would tall pillars make you think;

“You could probably tie something to these”

Maybe? Or not that would be crazy.

The pillars are covered

Covered in oysters

Covered in barnacles

Covered in seaweed

Why does this spot give off this energy

“It feels like a trap”

What is the cause?

Maybe because,

It is dark

It is cold

It is wet

[lexiklecksi]

My poetry notebooks

From left to right: notebook 2018-2020, notebook 2021-2022, notebook 2023, notebook for 2024

I vowed to write down every poem I’ve written online in a pretty notebook and to write more poems with ink on paper. On average, I’ve written 20 poems every year. Hopefully, I will be kissed by a muse to write more poems this year!