Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Shayank J Baruah Dec 2024
“I’m sorry black eyes don't get enough
love.
There's Hazel eyes,
Amber eyes,
But what about black?
Black the colour of the deepest night Of the universe and the unknown.
Of coal and obsidian.
Of the abyssal depths of the ocean.
of the pupil that dilates with passion, Don't even get me started
on when the light hits them.
Diamonds and stars,
Mysterious and alluring.
"But aren't black eyes so common?!"
So is the sky, So is the earth.
So is the beauty of the night sky and the Milky Way.
All mysteries and secrets of the universe have come together just to be put in your eyes.
Isn't that beautiful?"
Shayank J Baruah Dec 2024
Her eyes, they see every 
True things within me
Her lips, they paint words 
In the air like a delicate butterflies 
Her gaze, deeper than oceans,
Vaster than the skies 
Her energy, a pulsating force 
Vivacious and bright 
Her silhouette, a gentle outline 
Against the evening sky 
Her aroma, a blend of blooming 
Flowers and a lightning struck night 
Every single part of her 
Perfections that nobody can change
Her voice, a melody,
Carved from whispers of the winds,
It dances in the corridors of my soul,
A song only my heart understands.
Her touch, a gentle spark,
Igniting constellations on my skin,
Fingers like wandering artists,
Sketching galaxies within.
Her laughter, a cascade of stars,
Each note a prism of light,
It lingers, a haunting echo,
Through the stillness of my nights.
Her mind, a labyrinth of wonders,
Where dreams take their first flight,
A tapestry woven with wisdom and grace,
A sanctuary of infinite light.
Her presence, a radiant eclipse,
Both shadow and shine entwined,
A paradox of chaos and calm,
A mystery only time can find.
Her heart, an eternal fire,
Unyielding to the fiercest storm,
A beacon in my darkest seas,
A place I long to call home.
Every fragment of her existence,
A symphony of unspoken art,
She is the universe itself,
And I, a wanderer in her heart.
Arobeum Dec 2024
I am afraid of eyes,
Of thoughts and minds.
Afraid the "me" I see in mirrors
Might not be the "me" in others’ minds.

I fear the opinions, the whispered words,
The voices carving shapes of me.
What if their visions linger,
Ghosts of a face I cannot see?

They haunt me,
Questioning my skin, my bones,
The core of my existence.
Am I enough? Or am I shadows,
Fading in the light of others’ brilliance?

I fear I’ll never be content,
Forever chasing reflections—
Comparing my fragile self
To those I deem better,
Forgetting the beauty
That blooms within my imperfections.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
I see
Your beauty in your smile
Your beauty in your eyes
Your beauty in your cadence
Your beauty in your fragrances.

I see
Your beauty in your laughter
Your beauty in your hair
Your beauty in your patience
Your beauty in your grace.

I see
Your beauty in everything
Woman, you drive me crazy
When you're in my arms
When your eyes meet mine
And when you lovingly nudge my hands.

P.S. Translation of ‘Ta Beauté Dans Tout' by Hébert Logerie.

Copyright © August 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
celeste Dec 2024
she held the cigarette between her index finger as if she was pointing at her next foreseeable victim, but shortly it was blown out, the remaining ashes lit at the end of her tip. her cardamom eyes simmered, square but foundational, a million could love her.
here’s what I wrote from a long time ago, and i am still unsure what to title it
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
Oh, how it haunts me to realize I am not the
finest swimmer –
a lovesick fool adrift in the
ocean of your
blue eyes,
Boundless and profound like
the depths of the sea
itself.

                      I am sinking beneath the waves
of your love’s
                    cerulean embrace!
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
Amidst the echoes of a victorious romance, would you seek me?
In its subtle notes, I harbour every grievance, silently measuring
you against the passions of pasts, the ardour I once knew with
those I loved. The heat of your lips ignites a longing within me,
a rich Cyprus wine that awakens my very soul.

My skin bears the marks of disdain — a fallen star I proclaim,
for those who yearned for genuine love, yet bared their desires
to the world. The sincere man allowed each kiss to belong to its
rightful muse, while a desirous gaze conjures love born solely
from jealousy.

The eyes, those envious masterpieces of humanity, without
a doubt.
Luna Pan Dec 2024
a couple of glasses of wine,
taylor on the tv,
"imgonnagetyouback"
the words felt like prophecy;
so i texted you.

we wandered the half-sleeping town till sunrise,
its streets humming with secrets,
its shadows hiding what shouldn’t be seen.
we talked,
we laughed,
we kissed until words were unnecessary.

your hands, your lips, your fingers
they mapped me like forbidden territory,
they claimed me,
traced every inch of who I am,
left me marked,
burning with the memory of you.

i was there
when you made me your own,
when you carved your name into my skin.
this is the season of illicit affairs,
where love is borrowed,
and guilt blooms like a bruise on a skin.

did you slip back into her arms
as if nothing happened,
is she a fragile thing you couldn’t bear to break?
did you carry me with you,
a ghost only you could feel?
Valentin Eni Dec 2024
Once,
they played in yards,
stick swords and plastic guns,
mud-streaked faces,
laughing in the sun —
their joy alive, their hearts still warm.
they built forts from blankets,
imagined war as a game,
their laughter ringing bright —

But now —
Helmets cage hollow skulls,
dead eyes made of cold glass,
stone faces locked in a grimace,
marching in perfect sync,
a death-walk of men who forgot how to live,
boots crunching dreams into dust.

This is not a game.

Their hands now, hideous hands,
clench steel that tears mothers open,
splits children’s laughter into screams,
fingers like claws on triggers,
twitching with mechanical precision.

They sow death like seeds,
but nothing blooms —
only fields of twisted bodies,
limbs splayed like broken dolls,
smoke spiralling into the sky,
a sky that they pretend not to see.

This is not a game.

A little girl clutches a doll’s arm,
her brother’s blood still warm on her cheeks,
while the soldiers, these shattered souls,
paint walls with terror —
a grotesque mural of hate and ruin.

They move like zombies,
flesh wrapped in cold commands,
feet dragging through ashes of innocence,
mouths silent, eyes empty,
the light inside them
long since extinguished.

Flesh burns.
Buildings crumble.
Old mothers wail, their voices
splitting the sky —
cries of grief-torn ghosts,
pleas unheard by machines,
hearts replaced by circuits,
thoughts reduced to orders.

I see them.
I hate them.

Machines wrapped in flesh,
monsters programmed to ****.

They were children once —
soft, human, whole —
but they chose this path.

Now, they trudge through fields of ruin,
crushing love beneath their heels,
dragging the stench of death behind them.

A world devoured by horror.
Glass eyes blink,
and with each blink,
another life shatters.

It’s blood on their hands,
it’s death in the air.

This is not a game anymore.
I created a song using Suno AI. If you’re interested, please follow the link. Does anyone know how to make links clickable?

https://suno.com/song/037ea46b-8bc4-4cfa-aae0-edfff8f27333
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
Do your eyes still traverse the corridors of memory, like a VCR
rewinding its cherished tapes? Capturing your reflection in the
mirror—still radiant, unadorned, and unapologetic. I still find
myself consumed by jealousy for that bathroom mirror,
privileged to witness you from every corner of your room.

Consumed by the sinister allure of your skin’s shadowy depths,
a brilliance emerges that rivals the most exquisite treasure.
My dear, you continue to weave a tapestry of uncertainty around
me—thoughts hovering like spectres above, even as you attempt
to mask the passage of time with a new hue in your hair.

Yet, your capricious emotions betray you, revealing strands of silver
that ravenously consume my heart, and each sigh a testament to
your power. You ought not to linger in the recesses of my mind,
yet these last seven days have only intensified my fascination,
leaving me utterly weak.

I cast my laments to the skies, my spirit weeping profusely – the
cascade of your lip’s whisper, the tempestuous tides of your form,
the fortress of towering trees echoing the curve of your legs – how
can I possibly avert my gaze from your enchanting eyes? You have
transformed my heart into a crime scene, slaying me piece by piece,
all for the sake of uniting with you.
Next page