Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Reena Dec 2020
If you are the moon, then I am the sea
Since the beginning of time
Where the moon goes, I follow
Underneath the moon, I glow
With love and beauty

If only the moon saw their reflection
Without the celestial body
Without you
I would not exists

Billions of stars in the universe
But only one moon
So bright, so beautiful
So light, so dazzling
And to exist only once
Amongst the millions of galaxies

I would not be here
If it wasn’t for you
Without the heavenly body
If only you knew

With attraction and divinity
I reflect
High tide and low tide
I go towards you
Since the beginning of our existence
You are the moon and I am the sea
This can be seen as either a romantic piece or a piece about companionship. I wrote it as a piece to represent the love between a particular fandom and artists. Take it how you will, let me know what you think!
Amanda Hawk Oct 2020
I want to slip
Into Oasis
Become pixelated
Back in the 80s
Watch as all my fandoms
Come to life
I can have coffee
With Molly Ringwald
At The Peach Pit
Before hitting the beaches
Of Costa del Sol
Later check into the Overlook Hotel
To slow dance with Casper
As listen to theme music
Of Castlevania
To pedal a bmx bike
And touch the stars
To hang in detention
With the brat pack
To have my entire life soundtrack
Badly synthesized 80s tunes
I guess I am saying
I want my 2020
A little more Oasis
And a lot less
Black Mirror
Okay so I was listening to Beetlejuice, and he sings
'Jesus pass the Dremamime'
And I knew it was a drug, but I didn't know the effects. Turns out it causes halluciations. Well, that's the main thing, there are a lot of side effects. And to be honest, hallucinating explains a lot about Beetlejuice, and the whole musical.
You'll get a whole lotta these
Starry Sep 2019
Gharsheeelish to hell
Where everything is dark
And seems like an endless halloween
The flames are everywhere
Making candles out of pots and trees talk
This will be emotional young Dante
Qharsheeeiilesh means welcome in uyger
Starry Sep 2019
In the Ninth circle
Of Hell
I ealk
The frozen path of
The ****** until I see a cold
Yes cold pit of flames
Where the resttry to
Get warm
With no success
I just listened to;
6 broadway shows,
2× When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?
And I read a whole book (Harry Potter 6)
I'm not ok
A "poem" every day
Knock knock.
Who's there?
You know.
You know who?
Exactly,
AVADA KEDAVRA


And this, my people, is how James Potter died
A "poem" every day.
angel Jul 2019
Pools of aquamarine sink in the depths of golden quartz
as a figment of a feeling --
too foreign to be named,
yet
too familiar to be told --
grasps into their cores
as a their hands intertwine
with sudden daunting urgency.
Long forgotten are the piercing words
that become nothing but murmurs
in the cool and crisp air that fails to
shimmer and soothe the embers
between his and her beings.
By which the ardent winds push them,
so does the tip of his --- no, hers
she laid claim on this many moons ago ---
her knife, nicking a far edge in their chamber,
hilt bobbing in rhythm with nimble fingers.
Patience and longing, fever and urgency,
all colliding as desire feeds on hope.
The closer they sink,
an anchor beneath the water,
where they find each other
in a movement of souls
through a spirited exchange of breaths.
It begins within them,
a threshold
of a furnace
that burns in
war and frost.
internecine series; d1 (prompt: confessions) entry for a sifki subproject
Scarlet McCall Feb 2019
I saw you standing, dressed to ****.
Perhaps waiting for someone to tell you of her thrill--
the thrill that you give, when you start to sing.
I should’ve told you then that I’d been listening.
I’d just started to listen, just begun to catch the fire;
it wasn’t until later that I burned with desire.
Then I fell for you, I fell for you deep.
You’ve been playing with my mind; you’ve been visiting my sleep.
I wish I’d told you then, that I’d give you anything;
though nothing I could give you, would equal what you bring--
what you bring to me nightly, what you touch in my core.
When you’re next in town, go out the back door.
I’ll show you the stars,  I’ll show you the lights;
I’ll give you what you crave at the  end of the nights.
I’ll tell you of my dream, I’ll tell you of my vision,
then I’ll worship at the altar of my one true religion.
For Jay Buchanan

I'm pulling out the rest of the PF poems
Next page