#divinefeminine
Her depth,
Her mystery,
Her dark water abyss -
The night time fall,
My soul comes to kiss.
Eternal,
Majestic,
Her shimmering ocean shore.
Infinitely deep,
I hear her call.
A mirror to myself,
Feeling so right -
I find what is lost in the dark of night.
Sparkles of fire,
Burning far away -
Unclear to my eyes in the light of day.
Her pull,
Her sound,
Saying "remember what is true -
The depth of the infinite, lives inside of you"
Stillness,
Runs deep -
Through to the realm of no end.
I allow my inner realms,
And the dark of night to blend.
Words by Sylva Rose ©
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 5:11 AM UTC
Opening and closing,
No clarity disclosing.
Moving without a plan in sight,
Wondering what will come on this night.
I say "goodbye"
I release my sigh,
But this breath of fresh air has not yet begun -
And in what way, will this harm or nourish my lung?
Frost comes,
And then goes -
Is in between ever known?
Ice moves to water,
River moves to sea -
But my own transition is unknown to me.
I shed old clothes,
I watch new shows -
But the flowers around me twinkle and say -
"You are yet to arrive,
At a whole new day"
Words by Sylva Rose ©
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 5:05 AM UTC
This darkened spray and mist,
It has every right to exist.
And it guides my hand to write,
Blending beautifully with my light.
Black and white particles that interlace,
I come to release this perfection case.
Words by Sylva Rose ©
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 9:16 PM UTC
To be a woman is to be objectified.
Through your eyes,
I am never just a soul wearing skin,
I am only skin. A body.
And this body
has been too thin.
Not thin enough.
Beautiful, but only when it gives you what you want.
I’ve been told to change, to squeeze,
to mold myself into your ideal:
perfect skin, perfect shape,
a perfect everything,
forever growing younger instead of older.
But I don’t need your commentary.
I don’t want your opinions.
Because I don’t need you to want me.
I don’t want to be craved,
I want to be earned.
This body is just a vessel.
My soul is what quenches thirst.
It loves, not to ****** but to nurture.
It builds, it softens, it embellishes your light.
Only the emotionally fluent
and the spiritually grounded
may proceed to touch this mind,
or this body.
I am not for everyone.
Nor do I want to be.
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 8:52 PM UTC
It was winter when I descended into the river,
Descended to beseech her to teach me about her flow—
On a dark night where beasts and fiends shake and quiver,
Where the only light was her silky, glistening glow.
Upon her arms I knelt humbly as I
Shivered.
Before her majesty, I was struck with frightening awe.
I cried and cried, and with hazy eyes I prayed to be delivered,
And then I heard her speak—
What frightening things she spoke.
Jul 23, 2025
Jul 23, 2025 at 4:06 PM UTC
have you heard the cries of angels
as they plead to their kind,
begging to be freed of all the myths
that tie them down to brothels?
systematic anchors of the dark—
they scream until their throat tears apart,
asking to be let out, to be led free,
their body and their minds.
razor-sharp agony running through their veins—
is it gold or is it silver?
is it even blood that runs,
or mere glitter?
their eyes are painted red,
claws sharpened to push off the dread.
they wipe away and break themselves,
shouting to the blind,
always being left behind.
the angels of the nights—
they guard and they protect,
giving and resting, breaks at the harbors,
washing away like they've caught rabies.
maybe it's a society's flaw that they carry:
plastered smiles and pearly teeth.
they gnaw at the necks
of the ones who made them merry.
look what you've done to the divine,
asking to be met with pure versions.
you slid down venom through kisses,
lying in the quiet stillness,
making and breaking promises.
haunting, taunting, daring, breaking—
incredibly, they are
fierce protectors of all the devotees.
preached them, should have.
it's too late to place gifts filled with apologies.
now, if they're after your life,
who shall, but you, complain?
you were warned.
wanted, you've become.
the angels long since died—
now they disguise,
plotting in the depths of your despair.
they'll paint you black and blue,
like you did in their nightmares.
deconstructed the symbolism,
rage-baited all the monsters.
it's the seven sins against one virtue.
feral, i call upon—your turn to plead not guilty.
bask in the unprovided mercy,
for peace from violence lasts only long enough.
soon, you shall meet the ruin—
the unholy, brutal, almost forgiving,
built upon the humane exorcism.
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 11:40 AM UTC
The harder you fall
the higher you bounce.
Heartbreak can turn into triumph
if you're a skilled pro so announce it
OUT LOUD!
Tears can be used for nourishment
if you've been down a bumpy road.
A crash out can be latent fuel
for your next too heavy load.
You see between you and me
I'll never take the easy path.
I'd rather trudge through an intimidating
winding, prickly briar patch
with thorns in my right side and twigs in
my left eye.
I know I'll power through making
a trail with the grit and heart I apply.
May have been down at the bottom
of a well
with triggers of trauma
cracking my shell.
But I power up with that Divine Feminine fight
reminding me of my
God given right
to move forward and keep shinning my light.
Because tonight.....
Tonight I fall back in love with myself
and harness that Shakti with all
of my might.
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 9:31 AM UTC
My mouth is a magpie.
I collect syllables like shiny things
and scream them into soup.
Alphabet in disarray.
Syntax on fire.
Verbs wearing fishnets.
I said please but it came out pyre.
I said love but it burned at both ends
and tasted like lightning bugs
smothered in saran wrap.
This isn’t poetry.
It’s a word riot.
A sentence rebellion.
A grammar glitch in God’s inbox.
I built a language out of side-eyes and stutters,
called it flinchlish.
Conjugated heartbreak like it was Spanish.
(I hurt, you hurt, we—
don’t talk about that anymore.)
Sometimes I write elegies in emojis.
Sometimes I tongue-twist psalms into punchlines.
Sometimes I just scream into Google Docs
until it autocorrects sorry to spine.
My voice is a thesaurus
spun too fast in a washing machine.
Everything comes out wrinkled,
wet,
a little more
mine.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 9:52 AM UTC
bask in the divinity of your feminine energy
It cradles you like the light of the moon
Retreat into your soft flesh
feel how it bounces back as you trace gently every curve
How could you have such disgust for
The vessel of your greatness?
Jul 9, 2024
Jul 9, 2024 at 6:06 PM UTC
It vibrates loud
Elegant
Flows like words
That are benevolent
Makes me high
Happy
Alive
Sappy
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 3:13 AM UTC
I write to calm my nerves
I write to bring me back to her
The Divine Feminine
Energy
Embedded in every cell
Of my Aries body
Bringing balance
A high beam
Of pure love
And synergy
To bring the world forth
To its eternal dream
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 3:12 AM UTC
I have a self built barrier to hate
I am full of love
That arbitrates
Fairness in the highest fashion
Self love
Compassion
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 3:10 AM UTC
Beyond the veils of normalcy
there's a hint of the extraordinaire
the fruit of magnificence
within the Spinning hole of the vortex
lies the base for restoration.
You Close your eyes to see
the true nature of life's realities
I felt the presence of the ones before me
The divine beings
basking in the glory
emanating from all
My heart drew them near
Their words I hold dear
This Safe space I cherish
till eternity.
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 4:30 PM UTC
I long for you
To touch me
And set my skin on fire
Inhale my soul
And spread my
Body
With your desire
Take your lips
And part my sins
And dance around
The flames
That have waited
Patiently forever
To be screaming
Out your name.
-L.Frost
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Endless abundance,
you are, a hidden treasure;
infused in magicks,
synchronized with Mother Moon,
divine feminine of life.
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 12:44 AM UTC
Remember when you were a little kid running down a big hill?
And you weren't really sure every single step that your feet wouldn't just collapse out from under you,
leaving you flat on your face,
with the smile still permanently glued there,
laughing into the soil,
inhaling its sweet aroma...
but you kept going because,
the rush was so much that even IF SO,
you would have ran right back to the top and did it again?
Remember when the fear was SO worth it because the way down was EXHILIRATING,
every terrifying adrenaline-packed second,
and the entire time you thought,
"This is it,
THIS is when I'm gonna fall,"
but you didn't,
and you conquered your power,
again and again?
And every time you did feel the least bit unstable in your footing,
you snapped back to bliss,
how much fun you were having,
why you were doing it,
and what you were getting out of it,
and the high was more than the fall anyway,
the journey was the destination,
because in reality,
a mouthful of dirt and grass was a tiny price to pay,
to FEEL something outside of yourself?
Yeah well,
there's someone out there,
they're going to make you feel like that,
infinitely,
without conditions.
Wait for them.
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 6:48 PM UTC
your enigma is
draped over every part of me
as if the perception through your lens
a handbook to my darkness
prose installed into the mainframe
applying solace and wisdom to
the futility of existence
so how curious it is
how suddenly
that reality ceases to exist
i am adequate when i am not enough
i am whole when i am incomplete
i am valuable when i am worthless
i am complex when i am nothing
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 6:34 PM UTC
She was free in her wildness.
She was a wanderess,
a drop of free water.
She belonged to no man,
and to no city.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
Shiva- the destroyer
The plethora of power
The synonym of destruction
He- who can never be defeated
The one who can demolish the world by mere opening of his third eye
Halahal- the most vicious poison rests in whose throat
Words are never enough to define whose eminence
The greatest manifestation of divine
The eternal and the auspicious
That shiva- the ultimate god
Is a mere corpse without ‘Shakti’
She gives strength to the ‘supreme being’
And they say women are weak.....
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
She left me,
dancing as she disappeared under the faded street lights,
I stood there,
watching shirtless as she faded in the street’s night,
I’m sensing a pattern,
one I desperately deserve,
I fall in love and hit the ground,
my heart landing on the curve,
I’m trying to become a better man,
I don’t want to feel cliche,
I don’t want to try and ******
every girl that comes my way,
I love women,
and I respect them,
and if I respect them,
I should also respect their wishes,
it’s my responsibility,
just as much as it is hers,
to exercise self control,
especially when arousal occurs,
sure,
she is **** as the hottest a Goddess could ever be,
and sure,
I am ***** as the must turned on man could ever me,
but I am better than the physical desires that pulsate though my body,
I’m trying to become a better man,
I don’t want to feel cliche,
I don’t want to try and ******
every girl that comes my way,
gave two massages just today,
the first one to a girl that has a boyfriend,
she told me she was sick of feeling objectified,
she just wanted some attention,
without being looked at like an object by every guy,
so I gave her a massage and even reached her inner thighs,
but I did not cross that thin lustful line,
I respect her too much,
to try and take advantage of her lowered defenses,
I will not be like almost every other man,
and try and get into almost every girls *******
I love her so much more than ***
and I crave moments alone where we can be intimate,
but I’m on another level elevated from the simple man,
I am in love the soul of the woman not just what’s inside her pants,
and so after the massage was done,
I put her clothes back on,
as respectfully as I’d taken them off,
and she thanked me with her blessing,
saying she’d see me tomorrow,
and that she appreciated me not trying to get in her pants,
and her grateful compliment was better than any ***
well not any but still better than *** followed by abandonment,
and then she went,
and then I saw,
a girl that shared the same birthday was me,
who was/is an artist as well,
I invited her up to my room,
she initially was hesitant,
I told her I understood her skepticism,
she told me she was a feminist,
I told her my last girlfriend’s best friend was a lesbian,
soon enough though she was in my room where my massage commenced,
with her too I was controlled,
even though I took off her clothes,
and massaged most of her body thoroughly,
I avoided that red line that lies just before the danger zone,
coconut oil jasmine and ylang ylang,
helped smooth out all her tension,
and I told her if anything I was doing hurt her,
to please bring it to my attention,
I was just grateful,
to be able to be intimate,
with a girl who I found attractive,
and who may well have been my artistic equivalent,
an emotional exhibitionist both infinitely limitless and honestly uninhibited,
and so it went,
until we were lying in each others auras,
I guess sometimes you have to spend it all,
in order to attain the ultimate fortune,
to be able to share space and time with someone without any wanting,
one thing I can say is that moment felt like forever and a day in the best way,
though soon she was going,
I wanted to debate and ask her to stay,
but I promised not to protest if she was being honest,
so instead I helped her get her clothes back on her lengthy frame,
walked her down the well polished wooden stair case,
and to my hotel’s golden spiked front gate,
then I walked her down the long driveway,
to where the private road meets the main roadway,
and then she left me,
dancing as she disappeared under the faded street lights,
I stood there,
watching shirtless as she faded in the street’s night,
I’m sensing a pattern,
one I desperately deserve,
I fall in love and hit the ground,
my heart landing on the curve,
I’m trying to become a better man,
I don’t want to feel cliche,
I don’t want to try and ******
every girl that comes my way…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
∆ She Is ∆
Her head's in the clouds,
feet firmly planted on solid ground,
she's a walking paradox in all honestness,
she's light she's is sound she's as crazy as that sounds,
she's a real live wire,
an uncontrollable wild fire,
chaos in her refections she doesn't ask for directions,
as madness defeats the sadness in her eyes of sapphire...
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents ****** assault against children.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 1:54 AM UTC
She was strange.
She was terrifying.
She was beyond beauty.
Her strut so striking
her hips beat to the sound
of her own soul.
With orchids blooming
betwixt her legs and
opals glistening in her eyes,
Men only watch her from the side
hidden curiosity oozing from their lips.
She leaves footprints on their
minds like the face of
the moon.
Delicate and deep
But everlasting.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
She was like a humming bird:
soft, light fleeting-
the perfect escape artist.
Speaking in riddles
that keep you up at night.
Face changer and witch,
she draws you close, holds you so
and then lets go without warning.
You can only get so close,
before she turns her back.
Every time a bit closer,
every time more sting
from the rubber-band of goodbye.
Sinking down further into her sea
she washes over you,
drowning you in the intoxication
of her salt.
She melts in your mouth,
Pixie Stix style;
sweet, but gone
before you can really enjoy the taste.
You press rewind
on your memory:
looking, searching for any glimmer
of her, any flash,
anything to keep her close;
even for only a moment longer.
She wears a mask:
masquerade half-faced,
with feathers and glitter,
ribbons hanging from the left.
She's perfected
this porcelain-painted facade.
Under the disguise
she defies the conception
of beauty.
Thinking her virtue lies
in the mask.
She lies in the mask.
She fades in and out
like the morning fog
over the ocean.
Rushing in
and falling away
once the sun rays hit the water.
The crash enfolds her;
she lets it.
Skin and bone she bleeds
for everyone who ever hurt her,
taking the blade to the skin
she lets them all win.
Playing a loser's hand,
all chips in,
she gives herself over
as payment for who she is.
***** and unworthy;
painfully aware of
her chemical circumstance,
she runs from the torment.
Into a forest of lost time
remaining hidden,
she tries to die
but ever-still;
she remains.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC