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I S A A C Aug 2023
fireworks erupt from our spark
your soft lips kiss my fractured heart
i feel safe and that makes me scared
not used to men who exhibit such care
used to men who shoot and scar
play with my crown only after you asked
kiss my pearls, hand slides down my back
keep me in mind, keep me in check
candle lit make out sesh, pomegranate red
passion enmeshing with my nervous head
RyanMJenkins Aug 2021
This is me now, coming forth from the clouds.  Recharging in silence, fully-powered I follow sounds.  Taking on a new form - had to once I outgrew the space allowed.  I've truly bloomed since my heart was locked in the dark and hostile underground.
Hades once hated me but never tried to vanquish me.  He tried to force nightmares on his subjects that I would replace with sweet dreams.  His ears would steam from not understanding.  I found the key, and my heart was released. I broke free and floated away with Persephone, happily.  Be wary of intentions behind the pomegranate seeds.  Listen to your heart, that beat lead me to where I needed to be.  True story.
Happy Eleven11
daphne Dec 2020
and when i told him
just how beautiful he was
tossing a pomegranate seed in the air
and catching it gracefully
between his rose-coloured lips
it seems the pomegranate juice
had temporarily stained his pale cheeks
I wasn't taken, Mama.
I went willingly, pomegranate
juice staining my lips ******.

I am not helpless, Mama.
I am darkness, power, a Queen.
You gave me flowers and he gave me
his everlasting worship.

I am his queen, Mama, his goddess.
He says that I am the one that
brought him to his knees, Mama,
and he is right. I am a terrible
beauty, and oh, I put him on
his hands and knees in worship.

Do not come looking for me, Mama,
because your innocent flower is
nowhere to be found. All that is
left is blood and bone and
pomegranate juice staining my
hands and mouth and setting me free.
Another one that I've had in my notebook that I never got around to posting.
Maya Duran Sep 2019
iii.
He reminds you that you may never be loved
In the way that you are supposed to
His heart opens as it should
A halved pomegranate
And the jewel flesh spills forward
In effortless bounty

Yours was wrapped in butcher paper
With care, long ago
It lives in the freezer
In the way, way back
Ice crystals form slowly
Until they resemble a silver blanket of moss
"Cavetown wrote a song about your ex and we played it all summer long" pt 3. This poem isn't about what you think it is, but I don't think that that matters so much. The feeling is the same at its core, even if the circumstances are not.
stopdoopy Oct 2018
A woman once
                                        Wished on star
                                        From lands afar

                              "Please oh please
                              Bright twinkling light
                              Give me a child tonight"

                    And the woman prayed
                    Every night for years
                    Her plea fell on deaf ears

          Until a goddess
          Who made me swoon
          Heard her tune;
          The Moon

Begging she had heard
The mother of Earth
The call answered
With a "birth"

          Transcending her planet
          Coming to ours
          In a pomegranate

                    Inside the botanic
                    Did she travel
                    Until cloth unravel

                              Child Delivered
                              To dainty hands
                              Such divine plans

                                        Celestial now infant
                                        Baby and parent
                                        Woman loves ancient
For Houkyou, the title is what my friend calls their daughter and the whole poem is based off of it.
Dominique Jul 2018
I pop a pomegranate seed.
It bleeds,
Delicate fuchsia delight,
Mineral scented, warm, bright,
Full of nectar and promise
(now wasted)

I pop another one,
In a soft cove on my arm-
A slight dip between two veins -
And watch the blushing drop
Edge closer to my elbow. Stop.

A third time,
With the fury of fear
Tiptoeing listlessly in my mind,
Like raindrops on a rooftop.  
It is sweet, and ******,
A waste of time but an act of god
Nonetheless.

I crave the sound and texture of it,
So a fourth time comes around.
By now, the citrus is overpowering
But I keep going,
For the sake of purity,
For the sake of the shock of vibrance
On deathly pale skin.
  
When my arm is covered in juice,
I give up.
There's no sense in envying the wasted.

Scarlet sticks.
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