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"platonic" poems
Heart in embraces of a platonic love is the most highest form of affection we share with another person. It is because one will jump into the fire for his love, knowing that the only kiss he'll get may be a kiss of death.
0
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
"Platonic love"
And here we are the end. Five years running and nothing to show except the slowed platonic love and tired texts and an absence of what once was Except you don't know do you know that I'm leaving us know that I'm panicked into wondering if I'm behind in people experiencing people I feel I'm at a loss with you because we met each other too soon and now I'm just pointed bones and you are the sun and I'm greedy for still wanting a piece of you But I am burnt The End.
0
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 2:03 PM UTC
Burnt. The End.
I watch the prom Dance, In an awkward stance, my friends walk in with dates, and the excitement Abates. Alone in a corner, I mope like a mourner, With no partner to dance with, No gentleman to prance with. Amidst the mirth and cheers, My eyes fill up with tears. I rush out into the open air, And by Jove! I see Voltaire! With his satirical charms, He draws me in his arms. As I sway to the beats, I'm waltzing with Keats. Causing my funny bone to arouse, Enters P.G.  Wodehouse! Using nonchalant wittiness, He acknowledges my prettiness. And then walks in Shakespeare, Who  wipes away my tear, And my senses curdle like curds, As he showers me with words. While I repress the excited child, I'm swaying with Oscar Wilde. I'm rendered helplessly mute, With his phrases so astute. With a proposal so verse-y, I'm serenaded by Shelly  B. Percy. And before this fantasy can spoil, I fox trot with  Conan Doyle. And thus literally seduced, into putty I'm reduced. I am platonic-ally smitten, By the genius of what they've written. The dating circus can’t make me cry, because a host of paramours have I.
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
Literary Seduction
i tried to find a song a poem a piece of art something, anything that felt like or sounded like you i looked and searched asked and wondered yet no matter what i tried there was nothing that came close for you my platonic soulmate are one of a kind a light in the dark warm, soft kind, loving selfless a best friend i couldn't find anything because nothing nothing is like you
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Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
Platonic Soulmate
Platonic Love Song The wind in our hair as our lungs work Screaming out the lyrics to a teenage summer As we drive free, racing, to the waves and mountains Lights in our eyes and hands over hearts Youthful yearning fills us, as we get caught chasing the sky Her laughter fills my soul and she begins to dance While she wraps her arms around me, safe A fire blazes, but our smiles are what light up the night We make the stars jealous,  They beg for half of our shine Embers and vapour fill the air,  Hands trading drinks and smoke and care Music floats and lyrics sink in Lips trading stories and laughter and kisses Engines start, stop, jump, and rumble Her eyes gleam and shift, catching attention Hypnotising and beautiful,  They draw us in, keep us safe, and we ask to stay.  Let yourself love your friends. Let yourself stay with them.  She pumps music into our lives, her voice loud We dance to the wild tempo of our heartbeats Crass and catching, her voice settles in us Let people in, even when it’s hard. Let yourself love them.  She scrunches her face up and tosses in jokes, Making us smile at any price,  She helps us laugh the pain away.  Let people love you back.  I know it can be hard but... She covers her smile with a hand,  Else she’d blind us, but we’d be alright, If that could be the last thing we see If you aren’t in love with your friends, where is your absolution?  She swings her hips and we get lost in her lips, The gold on her skin, the brown in her eyes,  Entrancing on a new level, and we exalt If you aren’t in love with your friends, then something is wrong.  She grabs our hands, reviving and vital,  Her shoulders jump and so do we, she’s got us on our feet Her energy is infections, makes us forget imperfection.  If you aren’t in love with your friends, where are you spending your time?  Existing in a different state, but in the same hearts,  And we are all staring at the same jealous stars.  She feels like a home you’ve never been too.  If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you’re not doing it right.  Because for me, they define ride or die,  The first loves of my life, they mean open Open arms, open homes, open hearts They are coffee in the cold and make up in the night,  Empowerment in the dark and hope in the now.  Love isn’t just for spouses and partners,    Love is for those who you know with your heart,  Who’s soul touched yours, and said,  “Hey, it’s been a while. I missed you.”  And if you haven’t felt that yet then I’m sorry,  But don’t worry, you’ll find them.  And when you do, it will be like coming home.  And you’ll know.
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
Platonic Love Song
Platonic Love Song The wind in our hair as our lungs work Screaming out the lyrics to a teenage summer As we drive free, racing, to the waves and mountains Lights in our eyes and hands over hearts Youthful yearning fills us, as we get caught chasing the sky Her laughter fills my soul and she begins to dance While she wraps her arms around me, safe A fire blazes, but our smiles are what light up the night We make the stars jealous,  They beg for half of our shine Embers and vapour fill the air,  Hands trading drinks and smoke and care Music floats and lyrics sink in Lips trading stories and laughter and kisses Engines start, stop, jump, and rumble Her eyes gleam and shift, catching attention Hypnotising and beautiful,  They draw us in, keep us safe, and we ask to stay.  Let yourself love your friends. Let yourself stay with them.  She pumps music into our lives, her voice loud We dance to the wild tempo of our heartbeats Crass and catching, her voice settles in us Let people in, even when it’s hard. Let yourself love them.  She scrunches her face up and tosses in jokes, Making us smile at any price,  She helps us laugh the pain away.  Let people love you back.  I know it can be hard but... She covers her smile with a hand,  Else she’d blind us, but we’d be alright, If that could be the last thing we see If you aren’t in love with your friends, where is your absolution?  She swings her hips and we get lost in her lips, The gold on her skin, the brown in her eyes,  Entrancing on a new level, and we exalt If you aren’t in love with your friends, then something is wrong.  She grabs our hands, reviving and vital,  Her shoulders jump and so do we, she’s got us on our feet Her energy is infections, makes us forget imperfection.  If you aren’t in love with your friends, where are you spending your time?  Existing in a different state, but in the same hearts,  And we are all staring at the same jealous stars.  She feels like a home you’ve never been too.  If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you’re not doing it right.  Because for me, they define ride or die,  The first loves of my life, they mean open Open arms, open homes, open hearts They are coffee in the cold and make up in the night,  Empowerment in the dark and hope in the now.  Love isn’t just for spouses and partners,    Love is for those who you know with your heart,  Who’s soul touched yours, and said,  “Hey, it’s been a while. I missed you.”  And if you haven’t felt that yet then I’m sorry,  But don’t worry, you’ll find them.  And when you do, it will be like coming home.  And you’ll know.
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My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Turning Adult
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
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You're just a tiny bit minimalist in your own unique way a white star I have to squint to see in daytime sky not a Mercedes five point but a Nissan Micra car you park neatly in a three point turn by my netsuke and put a circular dent on my platonic furniture Your two humble rooms devoid of any bold sculpture except a fold-out table and a miniature bubble chair and a futon for a bed which is troublesome to share you draw the line at adornments but allow a wallflower A bulb in a bowl is your ornamental garden feature mealtimes a nibble on grated carrot celery cucumber you run so long on empty you're an eco friendly teacher stretching out the energy is a passion of my lover engaging in lessons on sustaining a resourceful nature Your shoes two pointe ballet slip ons easy to care barely there g-string thin cotton underwear nothing loud to upset your understated figure slight as a pin drop your bottom's semi-derrière sits so light on feet I'd swear you float on air I rarely get to hear you come before you're in my hair with a voice pitch high as a smitten kitten's purr your upper reaches get a score sized single 'A' nice when it fits into our schemes of feng shui I carry your bundle home on the roadway rivers of light yet you only burn one ray of candle power at night born of scintillating atoms which flow along each vein containing so much love without clutter in your frame a brave star small as wings formed of minuscule wire flutters in your eyes with minimal flare but deep desire
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
My Bonsai Ballerina
You're just a tiny bit minimalist in your own unique way a white star I have to squint to see in daytime sky not a Mercedes five point but a Nissan Micra car you park neatly in a three point turn by my netsuke and put a circular dent on my platonic furniture Your two humble rooms devoid of any bold sculpture except a fold-out table and a miniature bubble chair and a futon for a bed which is troublesome to share you draw the line at adornments but allow a wallflower A bulb in a bowl is your ornamental garden feature mealtimes a nibble on grated carrot celery cucumber you run so long on empty you're an eco friendly teacher stretching out the energy is a passion of my lover engaging in lessons on sustaining a resourceful nature Your shoes two pointe ballet slip ons easy to care barely there g-string thin cotton underwear nothing loud to upset your understated figure slight as a pin drop your bottom's semi-derrière sits so light on feet I'd swear you float on air I rarely get to hear you come before you're in my hair with a voice pitch high as a smitten kitten's purr your upper reaches get a score sized single 'A' nice when it fits into our schemes of feng shui I carry your bundle home on the roadway rivers of light yet you only burn one ray of candle power at night born of scintillating atoms which flow along each vein containing so much love without clutter in your frame a brave star small as wings formed of minuscule wire flutters in your eyes with minimal flare but deep desire
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White dreams cascading down my spine, down my trembling thighs with thoughts of slumber close to you, I must have been swept away by this crystallizing sugar. Heavy eyes, fluttering open like an aloof spring day, I have had my fair taste of ******* for the day, yet it tastes rather like infidelity and prayer. Bitter to admit, yes, this ******* has overthrown my gut. I have witnessed the curves of it's chest and wrapped it's spinal cord around my neck. Platonic it may have ended, yet my ******* began with such a sweet taste.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
*******
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion Straight up forever ontology on high Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics Guidon gyration excursion integration Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics   Chaos charisma objectified tribulation Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis Exude emote surrogate extrapolation Astral projection littoral hypotaxis Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra Intensely cogitational abstract mantra Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
Asylum
This numbness and this pain It eats me away She said it was just a platonic game My heart aches and bleeds Just like my whole world Can’t you see that I’m freaking hurt No matter what I say or do You won’t love me like I love you
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Platonic Love
I'm not attracted to people. Never have, never will. See I might get aroused; it's like my body is rejecting my decision it doesn't care it acts on it's own, but I'm fine with platonic relations. We don't gotta touch just cuddle and kiss and I'd be more than fine, but I'm a pleaser so ill subject myself to such acts, In accordance to their needs. *** doesn't come to mind when out on dates unless it's been made clear that ****** activity will be in place. When *** comes to mind all I can think is *** ugh no" The only *********** in my life comes from my partners needs. I'm their bf I'm supposed to cater to them. I don't mind it but I also don't like it.
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
My Asexuality and Me
Those platonic verses Shifted in between an immovable power Of the violin strings Creating a dulcet noise A paradox Because when words and music collide There came a new Force into existence Which began to mould every soul From the beginning Like a child's clay dough.
0
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
Integrity
I cried when you kissed me Because it was a platonic kiss I broke when you pressed me into the mattress Because it was a platonic oppression I died when I woke up beside you Because it was a platonic love
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
Platonic
If platonic marriages were a thing, we'd have 5 dogs .
0
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
10w on friendship
THE FLAMES EAT THE PSEUDO-GOTHIC HOUSE He was an Action Man minus a left arm and trousers. A dog had chewed his head almost off. But - he still had thought. She was a Lego Lady, Built of red and blue blocks. She was forever coming apart trying to keep body and soul together. She had only one eye and no mouth to speak off. Same dog who had a passion for the chewing of toys. But - she still had thought. They met one night when thrown together in the toy box. A giantess' voice had screamed "YOU TIDY UP THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW!" He loved the Lego Lady's yellow block hair. It was like a helmet...suited her face. And oh that one little eye and the way it would look at you! She saw at once that he had no genitals/ but then - neither had she. It was a purely platonic affair. They thought and thought at one another for hours. They got on like a house on fire but one night the house went on fire. They held on to each other both melting into a final embrace. Mother always told me "You shouldn't play with matches!"
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
THE FLAMES EAT THE PSEUDO-GOTHIC HOUSE
And, you left me all alone, left in such a silence that I could't even believe you are about to leave. You left an undefined scar in my soul and my teardrops enchanted those memories we shared together and laughed over them hours. You went away in such silence that all I could do is just NOTHING but hearing you to mourn in such dogma. Tears just drop by my cheeks and I just wish you to come down and tell me,               "I am here, my darling,                Don't you worry child....                I can't ever leave you alone." They said, life isn't fair, life is never trustworthy. Now I see an feel that hard every night. I never felt that I can't hear your voice anymore anytime sooner or later. It all comes and goes.... what matters is the in-between time you spend together by thick and thin holding on to each other. You were lying on the bed when I last saw you and there also you were fighting to get over that period. Remember? We laughed there too when you said you had 26 milk pies and I strictly said, "Get well soon Dadu. After you go home you will be having curd-rice and "Khichudi". ..... And God never wanted that to happen maybe. After that you couldn't go back home, you left this virtual world that very night after suffering so profusely. You were 72 and I was 22; but we never bothered about this algorithm. There were healthy talks over he sunsets, over the pages of my sketchbooks. You were my biggest inspiration and critique for every work; cause you always questioned their existence and morality. You always chanted honesty throughout your life and give me strength, so that I can follow your path. One day, you will be a proud grandfather who will be seeing my works getting recognised all around the world and then we will laugh together... Me, from the terrace and You, from that sky. Come soon, come in a disguise, come as my soulmate, come as my midnight friend..... ....... but come back, please. because Payel misses your presence and laughter. I will weep and bawl on my bed some nights, knowing I can't see you anytime ever. That heart-wrenching pain and undefined scar in my lotus-heart will bloom someday with your desired presence in my success and failure both....    I believe so. I believe in you, I believe in us. Because, God snatched one of my biggest possession without even asking for it. You have to come back..... ... and you will. To those talks and platonic love, you are being missed Dadu. I wish, I had some digits to call you up just to ask, if they are providing you with some spicy food or not. LIVE FOREVER. YOUNG HEART N SOUL.
0
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
And..... You left me all alone...
And, you left me all alone, left in such a silence that I could't even believe you are about to leave. You left an undefined scar in my soul and my teardrops enchanted those memories we shared together and laughed over them hours. You went away in such silence that all I could do is just NOTHING but hearing you to mourn in such dogma. Tears just drop by my cheeks and I just wish you to come down and tell me,               "I am here, my darling,                Don't you worry child....                I can't ever leave you alone." They said, life isn't fair, life is never trustworthy. Now I see an feel that hard every night. I never felt that I can't hear your voice anymore anytime sooner or later. It all comes and goes.... what matters is the in-between time you spend together by thick and thin holding on to each other. You were lying on the bed when I last saw you and there also you were fighting to get over that period. Remember? We laughed there too when you said you had 26 milk pies and I strictly said, "Get well soon Dadu. After you go home you will be having curd-rice and "Khichudi". ..... And God never wanted that to happen maybe. After that you couldn't go back home, you left this virtual world that very night after suffering so profusely. You were 72 and I was 22; but we never bothered about this algorithm. There were healthy talks over he sunsets, over the pages of my sketchbooks. You were my biggest inspiration and critique for every work; cause you always questioned their existence and morality. You always chanted honesty throughout your life and give me strength, so that I can follow your path. One day, you will be a proud grandfather who will be seeing my works getting recognised all around the world and then we will laugh together... Me, from the terrace and You, from that sky. Come soon, come in a disguise, come as my soulmate, come as my midnight friend..... ....... but come back, please. because Payel misses your presence and laughter. I will weep and bawl on my bed some nights, knowing I can't see you anytime ever. That heart-wrenching pain and undefined scar in my lotus-heart will bloom someday with your desired presence in my success and failure both....    I believe so. I believe in you, I believe in us. Because, God snatched one of my biggest possession without even asking for it. You have to come back..... ... and you will. To those talks and platonic love, you are being missed Dadu. I wish, I had some digits to call you up just to ask, if they are providing you with some spicy food or not. LIVE FOREVER. YOUNG HEART N SOUL.
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59
You love to get the words out of me The words I wouldn’t use, they sound ***** You love the way I look at you I look into your eyes, and something sets free You love the way I listen to you I remember everything, Mr. Perfect doesn’t We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You call me your tomboy And get so possessive You say that you need me And then act submissive I adjust your dresses Sometimes your shoe laces When you keep me waiting I say you are allowed Don’t call me bro Babe, what is the ground We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You say you love me Every time you text I say, “I love you” You shoot hearts and rainbows back You want to know about my crushes If I ever loved a girl You wink and dance with me Say I’m the only one to make you twirl We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You love when I play gentleman Opening the door Letting you lead Walking you back Paying you heed You gush about my skills The way I move the swords The way I calculate The way I play with words Close discussions and debates And then we discuss How Mr. Perfect and you are hanging We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me We are best friends And you want us to be, forever You want to hang out And go abroad together I would stand by you In all platonic capacities Even when Mr. Perfect marries you And claims you stupidly We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me
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May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 11:39 PM UTC
Crushing
I focus on your eyes those two deep blue oceans and wonder why you wave over me yes, it's true that I'm imperfect but are you any better? You can't feed me servings of silence like an unsolved piece of a puzzle please move your stiff ghost occasionally let it consume something other than your tortured, self-consumed mind. These walls keep you from leaving my sight, yet why are they the closest from tumbling down? Only prayers keep me sane anymore.                              ... Resting my eyes as you call out my name you whisper it to the shadows within the clouds but only because it's forever the name of a stranger.
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Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
A Platonic Flare
Platonic love is what I seek, Platonic love is just what I need, free from the sensual and free from the physical touches of a man, All I need is the platonic love that a man can give me. Platonic love goes ever so deep, It goes beyond what the sensual can't give to anyone. You are more connected to the one you love because platonic love is the perfect love No need for the physical, no need for the lust, the platonic love is perfect for everyone. *** is over-rated, it causes so many problems, but if you go farther into the platonic love it rids you of all of those problems. It rids you of the love of material things, Platonic love is so simple and gives you every thing. Oh give me platonic love, that is deep and so true, Platonic love will never leave you.
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Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 11:33 AM UTC
Platonic Love Is What I Seek
Marooned Vapid beauty of this room Frothing carpet, ocean blue One wall me, the other you What lies between is residue Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment Questions asked, time forgotten Who are we? What do we know? Into these questions Summer flows And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks Yearlong they torment my brain Infringing on every season If not for the manic scheme To love and having loved be loved This correspondence to a distant land With stars, more numerous and brightly lit Than my burgeoning highway exit Would by no means have left my hand But if, against all odds, it will prevail Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale Quells with reason my groundless pride At having docked on your passionless harbor Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide Must not create union of body or mind You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside I plunge into darkness Skimming its silky surface Before zipping it behind me Shall I drown, as I have lived? In vain, my dreams your subjects Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this A note belying resonance Of my heart’s last echoed throe One desperate effort, giving up Feed every vestige to the void Wading, torso encumbered Each sullen relic of your memory Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony Then, only too late am I cognizant That my own breath is tribute yet spent Therefore if I were to float or swim I’d give you every ounce of who I am Convince you to relinquish me From your tepid, spurning sea Then lying beneath moist underbrush Slowly, breathe no more
0
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 4:24 PM UTC
Marooned
Marooned Vapid beauty of this room Frothing carpet, ocean blue One wall me, the other you What lies between is residue Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment Questions asked, time forgotten Who are we? What do we know? Into these questions Summer flows And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks Yearlong they torment my brain Infringing on every season If not for the manic scheme To love and having loved be loved This correspondence to a distant land With stars, more numerous and brightly lit Than my burgeoning highway exit Would by no means have left my hand But if, against all odds, it will prevail Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale Quells with reason my groundless pride At having docked on your passionless harbor Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide Must not create union of body or mind You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside I plunge into darkness Skimming its silky surface Before zipping it behind me Shall I drown, as I have lived? In vain, my dreams your subjects Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this A note belying resonance Of my heart’s last echoed throe One desperate effort, giving up Feed every vestige to the void Wading, torso encumbered Each sullen relic of your memory Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony Then, only too late am I cognizant That my own breath is tribute yet spent Therefore if I were to float or swim I’d give you every ounce of who I am Convince you to relinquish me From your tepid, spurning sea Then lying beneath moist underbrush Slowly, breathe no more
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The gift of a loving and a platonic relationship. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The gift of a loving and platonic relationship Having sorted the Philanderer or attractive Elope if you will , be together in Gretna Green ****** lover ,being kept by a woman of means Introduce a love potion or Philtre if you’ve one Feast upon love if you have the energy for it. The gift of a loving and platonic relationship Oh too much ? I have heard , is so ****** Friends without any love making is platonic And Platonic is OK but never satisfying Love needs to be total never half-way Oh the differences between loving n platonic? Virtually all virgins are best to keep pure. In that the longer you can stay that way is fine Never try to keep pace with your peers Goading and teasing you saying you’re queer As first you really have to love yourself Narcissism is acceptable at an early age. Don’t you see ? Look in the mirror. Handsome ! Ask yourself a question.Am I not a fine beauty Platonic is a name of a friend you couldn’t kiss ********** would be out of the question Alive to the perils of the merging of the two Torch songs of unrequited love over the radio On an enamoured night of drinking red wine Narcissism comes into play so frequently. I saw it in my younger days. With pretty girls. Collectively all trying to look the prettiest Reality dawns upon the real responsibility . Elevating your passion to the highest level Let me take out the College girl every time And talk about the meaning of life and poetry To me the platonic relationships sustained one In that *** never got in the way. Only once the whole truth is established. Necking and a cuddle in the back seat enough *** later in life became a wonderful gift. Having had so many platonic friends around I think it gave me an insight to what life was. Personally given my time over I would repeat... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written by Philip November 15th 2018.
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
The gift of a loving and a platonic relationship
The gift of a loving and a platonic relationship. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The gift of a loving and platonic relationship Having sorted the Philanderer or attractive Elope if you will , be together in Gretna Green ****** lover ,being kept by a woman of means Introduce a love potion or Philtre if you’ve one Feast upon love if you have the energy for it. The gift of a loving and platonic relationship Oh too much ? I have heard , is so ****** Friends without any love making is platonic And Platonic is OK but never satisfying Love needs to be total never half-way Oh the differences between loving n platonic? Virtually all virgins are best to keep pure. In that the longer you can stay that way is fine Never try to keep pace with your peers Goading and teasing you saying you’re queer As first you really have to love yourself Narcissism is acceptable at an early age. Don’t you see ? Look in the mirror. Handsome ! Ask yourself a question.Am I not a fine beauty Platonic is a name of a friend you couldn’t kiss ********** would be out of the question Alive to the perils of the merging of the two Torch songs of unrequited love over the radio On an enamoured night of drinking red wine Narcissism comes into play so frequently. I saw it in my younger days. With pretty girls. Collectively all trying to look the prettiest Reality dawns upon the real responsibility . Elevating your passion to the highest level Let me take out the College girl every time And talk about the meaning of life and poetry To me the platonic relationships sustained one In that *** never got in the way. Only once the whole truth is established. Necking and a cuddle in the back seat enough *** later in life became a wonderful gift. Having had so many platonic friends around I think it gave me an insight to what life was. Personally given my time over I would repeat... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written by Philip November 15th 2018.
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Platonic Love " A Poem about the purest form of love " What Do I Seek, I seek the purest form of love, A love that is not formed out of lust I seek the purest form of love a love that is formed out of platonic love A love that is so pure and chaste, A love that will not make you wish you did no wrong, Where has everyone gone wrong, Lust has nothing to do with Love, The Purest love is platonic love it is accompanied with a song, *** is accompanied with love and marriage, then only is it true and strong, It will not make you feel as you did something wrong. I would rather have the purest form of love and that is platonic love.
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Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
Platonic Love
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock) When we make time, When we listen: The theistic preach deistic talk; The atheistic preach pragmatic talk; The agnostic preach proleptic talk; The heretic preach shismatic talk; The mystic preach prophetic talk. (the mesianic and satanic never stop) When we have time; Then we listen: The optimistic teach hypnotic talk; The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk; The altruistic teach empathetic talk; The idealistic teach synergistic talk; The pacifistic teach semantic talk; The body politic teach charismatic talk; The technocratic teach robotic talk; The romantic teach poetic talk; The critic teach cathartic talk; The moralistic teach dualistic talk; The ascetic teach platonic talk. (the artist would rather not talk) When we find time, Do we listen: The lunatic speak quizzotic talk; The neurotic speak pathetic talk; The chauvanistic speak monistic talk; The nihilistic speak ballistic talk; The hedonist speak narcissistic talk; The futuristic speak galactic talk. (the minimalist hasn't the time to talk) Just don't. Look. Some tic reset the clock.
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Apocalyptic Talk
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues      Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Anonymity emanations
Having you around is better than making you a stranger once more.
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Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 6:14 AM UTC
Haiku 1120 - Platonic