#poetryriot

[luminote]

The poet exists in fragments, so does the poetry.

[with-0ur-eyes-closed]

[moonlit-serendipityy]

[heartofmuse]

Let my body talk,

While my soul burns,

Drunk on feeling,

Dancing desire,

Breathes like firestorm,

Stars exploding,

As moans wet the night,

Raining pleasure,

On a bonfire

That never ceases.

e.v.e.

[circlepoems]

Vanilla

I bake a celebratory cake, white and naked, studded with berries and ornamental cursive. When I return from triaging the kitchen, the birthday song is over, there are only crumbs on plates. Party guests depart, and I'm the one to tidy up the mess. There is much I need to say, but have no words.

[emphasiskills]

I hunt you

as tenderly

as passion permits

never too close

my devotion

has become

a law of physics 

this is nothing frivolous

pilgrimage becomes pillage

without distance

apostles

cannot possess

their gods

you cannot know

what i swore

to the tides

gibbous lunatic

doomed to ecstatic

celestial motion

ardent apostle

of an oblivious

goddess

never waning

I will always

orbit you

[dustseeker]

I only want to be found by someone.

Seen. Taken by hand. And then, after a while,

maybe loved? It is not impossible

to imagine. But at this moment

it does not seem quite possible either,

you know? I like to think that

you know. Or else there is kind of nothing.

If you find me, you will let me know?

[robertjw4688]

"The Intent of a Desperate Man"

There's a wheel

nestled in my ribcage

and it turns

(an immortal movement

that has lasted longer

than this life)

despite the confines

of the oxidated pages

on which it has spread itself thin.

I cannot view the ratio

of my growing seasons

to the years

I've been at war

with every ceiling

so I gaze

into every partially open flower

and I listen

to every neutral prayer

with the intent

of a desperate man

because there is more to me

than what I have done

to survive myself;

there are promises

that have been whispered

into the cacophony

that struggle leaves behind.