There’s a wildness within his eyes that sparks a fire inside my soul.
Passion, desire and the bitter taste of lust float through the air as pheromones,
Creating a bridge between us and linking us together.
This visceral feeling acts almost like a drug, pulling me under and clouding my senses.
It’s a primal game we play. We test ATTRACTion by creating FRICTion with our bodies.
And are frightened by the REACTion we feel, finding out that love, as a catalyst, knows no bounds of race, gender, religion, philosophy or age.
That, in the end, we’re all just human and to love is what makes us so.
And there’s no error in that.

This was my submission piece to HePo. Hope you like it. Feedback is warmly welcomed.
Maria Etre Oct 23

There are
7 different types
of love
elaborated by
the heart's
7 different
beats, decoding
7 different languages
that the mind
meddles with
Eleni Aug 26

Pulses and waves
Have their joys across my body.

Son of Aphrodite, he that smites breasts with an unknown Promethean heat.

The delectable wound on my chest marked from his piercing arrow.

Animating force, who's origin is only mumbled in gentle whispers
across my neck.

Shall we build our haven upon him,
Before the Father of The Sea washes us away?

Eros will save our love from the gallows
And forever gleam those beacons in his eyes: The idol of arrows.

This poem is revolved around the Greek mythological god, Eros. The Roman equivalent is Cupid. In this short and lustful monologue the speaker recognises that their relationship is purely built on lust. Yet the speaker holds hope that the affair will last before the Promethean Heat vanishes. Do they need another word for "love"?
Katy Miles Mar 2

zeus and eros conspire
but they cannot light love's fire
in the hollows of her heart
enclosed by a work of art
a carefully crafted shroud
that wards off every cloud

noah's eyes glimmer green
at the sight of her machine
rain shies from withering skin
that her sorry soul is hiding in
she watches it relay to the floor
"will i feel if it falls more?"

she's only left alone in thought
as it grants life to all she's not
all the world will change and grow
and unless earth forbids it so
she'll spend eternity in her cover
just watching - no one to love her

Thank you for Matching
the Tinder Call Center.
My name is Nick and I will be helping you with your order today.
And your name is?

Hello, Port Veritas

I'm so glad you called
because you do qualify
as one of the first 100 people
I find attractive!

So Where are you from?
Oh Wow, I've never been there,
you ever Been here to Bull Feeney's?

No? Well look at that,
I guess we've never been
too each others places before.

Looks like we have something
in common.

What was it on my profile that got you interested in swiping right?
Oh I see, you like love poems,
you like new shit,
you just wanna make everyone cry.

How long have you been interested in that?
Wow that's a long time.

What else have you tried
to hear love poems,
see new shit
and make people cry?

Wow that's...

that's kinda fucked up Port Veritas.

That's really fucked up.

What's the worst part about dealing with that?
I see, well I'm glad you called.

Tell me a bit
why it's important
to do something about this now;
it's a little different for everyone.

I see, it's Valentine's day. There's a valentines open mic and LOVE SLAM Tonight!

I'm just gonna ask a couple quick questions to see if you qualify,

Will you all answer them for me?

Do You want sexy poetry?

Sexy poetry IS the best sticky note to receive in your eighth grade lunch box

Do you want Radical Self Love?

me too, let's keep looking

Do you want love Poetry?

You just want so many things from me that i can give you.

Do You want people to need a towel by the time you leave the stage!?

You're right, they shouldn't call it dry humping

You know, Port Veritas. I can't wait for you to watch this amazing show we have for you tonight.

As my profile states,
we're gonna give strangers this microphone for four minutes.
Where they are gonna say whatever the hell they want about terrible dates, passionate love, terribly passionate sex.
And that sounds great doesn't it?

Just imagine how wonderful it will feel when
you get up here
picture all these lovlies in their underwear
feel cold and alone
with nothing but your words
and a microphone
Then drop the god damned heat on us.

Imagine a chorus of FUCK
and Mmmm and snaps

THAT'S really why you swiped right today, isn't it Port Veritas?

Excellent! Let's get you started!

As you heard, we've put together a Special Package, with this Valentines open mic. A LOVE SLAM.
And an extra free second date when you try this First One for just your body.
Plus, since you're one of the first 100 people I find attractive,
I'm gonna throw in a Third date. so you get three, for the price of one!
And remember that swiping right on a Poetry slam is risk-free because it's backed by our 30-day Text you back guarentee.
So put your name on the sign up sheet.
next to your $3- $5 dollar suggested donation
bus your tables at the end of the night,
Tip your bartender Leah well for putting up with us every week.
use whatever bathroom you fucking want

and one last order of business
to wrap things up
like a good boy practicing
safe sex, who is totally not trying
To get you all pregnant.
when he asks how you like
Your eggs in the morning.


If someone gets up here and says
something during their four minutes
That makes you feel unsafe
you can do one of three things
1. Silently get up, leave the room and come back when you're comfortable
2. Get Nate or myself and tell us to provide floor for a calm discussion.
3. Go home write a fucking poem about it. and bring it back here next week!



McDonald tsiie Dec 2016

Hey its okay to say you're not okay
It's not okay to turn and walk away
We've got problems we need to face

If you love me then say it
If you trust me then show it
If you don't mean it save it
If you mean it own it
You got to be happy alone
To be happy together
You got to lose something you know
To learn how to get better

I've been working - you've been hurting
I've been curving - you've been swerving
I've been sleeping - you've been creeping

I think about you
I dream about you
I smile about you
I cry about you
I lie about you
I'm fine without you
I lied that's not true
I'd die without you

Our love is a war we use words as weapons
So either you real or I'm gone in a second
These thoughts that we have and feelings we kept in
Make resent and regret upset and a severance
You don't like ultimatums

Love is contagious
Also dangerous
Leaves you damaged
Make it painless
Now don't make sense

Lets try to save it

Rambo Dec 2016

Never he was an honest man
Who prides himself
On wanton expeditions

In a field of truth
He lies, entangled in conceit
To win that which he desires –
It is only but a game.

Mind not his mental means, nor manner –
Be he sane or psychopath –
But the strategy by which he plays:
Cheat, deceive, manipulate,
Overcome, and conquer your carnal estate.

Twisted tales, spun with golden thread
Crafted by careful practice and confidence
The master of charisma in his own head
Is no Eros, in any sense – Erosive, yes –
He is only what you want but for a brief moment
Be suspicious and expect this ever-real Narcissus.

A lecher he is
A Greek God in wish –
Nay, he only lives in the fantastic,
Though he roams about us
In a surreal bubble,
Where love comes to pass,
He is ever-so subtle

He markets himself as a Rembrandt,
Although more a moke* than baroque,
Something which he could never see
Staring into his reflection so blindly.
At a cost, worth more than his fee,
This cheap knockoff of Sal Dali,
Would sell you his love
For a buck forty-three.

Beware the lecher.

*Moke is a British/Australian slang term for donkey or jackass; a fool, representing the folly of man.
ji Oct 2016

read my body like a bible,
let your tongue be the bookmark
that browses my pages,
and embeds between my spine
right where it shouldn't;
say my name like a prayer,
and i'll worship the shrine
under your stomach
like a god— my god!
let me lick the statuette

A lascivious flavor now in season of moon
together, dot the beach
with this underlying nonchalance
only has belief in destiny
that our harmony such enrapture
now endeavor then enamor
emancipated lure in a gaze redeeming light.

Sam Hain Mar 2016

Awakens not my wolf-man to the moon
For that it shines a silver discus full,
For he may rise when clouds the thickest dull
The round moon’s lustre, or when the clock strikes noon.
One sorceress alone doth have the pow’r
T’arouse the beast, and he doth her obey;
And from her side the beast doth never stray,—
So loveth him the witch and the witching hour.
Yet, by my troth, the wolf-man hath no love
For her and hers which greater is than mine:
By daylight, blackest night, or moony shine,
My love doth neither wax nor wane nor rove.
However, unlike the love the beast doth keep,
My love can’t wake, for it doth never sleep.

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