#request poem

[heroic-poetry]

can u poem abot frat boy 🤭🤺😎🥳

I know this was mostly a joke, but I had fun, I tried giving it a sort of hip-hop/rap vibe, but I’m not a lyricist and I think only the first verse truly captures that flow. I wrote it in the “typical” eight Six bar verse, Four bar chorus (repeat)

Lake O’ Love

I drown in your poison

Your pond of passion

Passionately passing

My prime presumption

Of what you are,

A loving party

Your lights, and your sounds

Flooding my senses

Feeling me with glee

As I dance carefree

You take my breath away

Brush against beating

Burning blushing faces

Breaking at your gaze

When eyes meet mine,

I refuse to flee

Your lights, and your sounds

Flooding my senses

Feeling me with glee

As I dance carefree

You make me a glutton

Mouth agape gawking

Gazelessly at glinting

Gold glowing against

Your soft thick lips

Tasting tempting me

Your lights, and your sounds

Flooding my senses

Feeling me with glee

As I dance carefree

[blake-broacher]

Request poem, Stars

Abstract dots in an infinite canvas that we paint our imagination upon, where we draw inspiration because those dots could have anything within them and make anything you can dream of. They are always there: watching yet they see nothing of us and our lives, just our hearts are peered through, and analyzed like the specimen under a microscope, our souls naked before them.

Someone once asked if we are human because we look at stars, or do we look at the stars because we are human, this was in the introduction to Stardust, they asked then if the stars watched back, I’m sure they do, as they are more perfect than the moon and yet more quiet waiting for recognition of the same level because they love some of our souls, hoping to touch us and leave something after its search, not many find what is left but those who do realize what love is, why we know love is because the gentle night sky is filled with guardians that fill our hearts with love and our minds with wonder yet never openly ask for something in return.

We are theirs to watch and they are ours in a love that was born before anyone you know was conceived.

Requested by @creatingnikki Feel free to try this out too, we'll share our poetic thoughts of the night sky

[thesedroppedthoughts]

January 3, 1901 She painted a canvas Of a blistering sun

[hyperponderating]

In Which My Life is Like an Old Western

Walking home at 1 in the morning after work

is like walking through  town 

after spending all day in the desert, 

when the only thing open 

is a tavern about to close,

and it is so quiet you can hear

the clack of your boot heels echo 

as you walk down the center of its only street, 

and the quiet sounds of your leather coat 

as it flows behind you. 

  Its like you and the stars 

are the only witnesses to 

the storm on the wind 

and how beautiful the moon is 

half covered by clouds. 

  - Erin Carlson