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#poetry prompt request
eefrostpoetry · 1 year
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prompt: your lips taste like a thunderstorm
your lips taste like a thunderstorm
and your body feels like an earthquake,
your eyes flash like lightning
and your hands touch me like a tsunami;
how i wish i was as wild and untamed
as you, but for now i'll rest
in your stormy embrace
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Text: Here, magic is channeled through poems, and great poets quickly gain power, wealth. If you’ve no talent for words, the beings that roam the black sands can be convinced to help you learn.
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star-girlfriend · 9 months
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An ode to the sapphic teenager experience of being helplessly in love with your best friend
unknown // florence + the machine how big, how blue, how beautiful // unknown // pinterest // @ka_waltz on twitter // nastya haiko & diana on instagram // katie found my first summer // olivia gatwood the lover as a cult, life of the party // the smiths back to the old house // sue zhao
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marketfreshfics · 2 months
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Hiiiii!!!
I saw you're asking for prompts.
Can I get a poem from Seb's POV realising he's in love with a stoic and sarcastic MC? Pretty please? ♡
Thank you so much!!!
I find myself contemplating beneath a grand tapestry. Here, where history and footfalls erode the stone, I wait for her, a wizard with wonder cradled in my breast.
She is an enigma, a witch with a sharp gaze, chilling yet beautiful, the icicles that adorn the eaves in winter.
Her words are laced with sarcasm that bites the air, leaving trails of frost in its wake. Yet in her presence, a warmth pushes my very paradigm to shift, aligning itself with the rhythm of her heartbeat,
steady,
and unwavering, and pounding.
There is stoicism in the silent strength that she carries, an invisible mantle. For all her phlegmatic propriety, laughter is seldom heard but always marvelled, a comet streaking across the night, so breathtakingly beautiful because it is so fleeting, so untouchable; Blink and you’ll miss it.
And as she is lost in the pages of a book, I am lost in the contemplation of her, amidst the scent of ancient parchment, and incantations penned eons ago.
There is something about how she concentrates, how slender fingers tuck the stray strand behind an ear, that dredges something deep from my chest, winches it to breach the surface, and shatters the safety of my rib cage.
It calls forth those precious pieces of the past, brief and charged with an electricity that defies explanation, cherished and treasured;
A debate in the common room, heated until the embers in the fireplace grow cold. A shared glance during dinner that speaks volumes above words. A partnership in Potions that feels like an alchemy of curiosity.
She challenges me, this witch who wears armour of indifference as effortlessly as she wields a wand. Yet woven in the whitespace of her words, in silence that follows clever retorts, I hear the unspoken truths of her heart...
Oh, how they echo mine.
In a world where the future is as uncertain as the shifting staircases, I have fallen with certainty. Not for the heroines of old who grace the pages of textbooks, not for the fleeting charms of a passing fancy, but for her—the witch who does not wear her heart on her sleeve, out in the open for anyone to claim.
Hers is tucked, folded into the safety of her chest, as all precious things should be.
With any luck…mine will join her there.
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 6 months
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~Sigh~ I want to stretch my poem-writing muscles. But nothing feels worthy to write a poem about.
I think S.A.D. may be hitting me a bit earlier than usual, this year.
Could folks do me a favor and drop me an ask with a one-to-three word poem prompt?
Thanks!
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dolores-hazy · 10 months
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The Game of Life
When there's nothing much to call yours
No haunts hung around enough where
Everyone knows your name
Any marks made feel erasable
Instead of the desired indelible
Afraid to ask if you're anyone's favorite
Playing it safe to avoid bitter disappointment
Getting that anyway among other biting
Pains leaving teeth marks
Longer lasting than your impression
Life seems like one inane game
You keep forgetting how to play
Too tired to learn the rules yet again
But longing for the chance to feel a winner
Reaching dreams you tried denying
No more crying about missing out
Shout it from beams and towers
Empowered by the elation of knowing
You are worth celebrating
Poem request by @gloriousfanbasement
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thatgrrlpoet · 5 days
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Ascending
request: A poem about a being ascending beyond time, feeling numb as nothing matters to it anymore. Always helps with my writers block to write about a b e y o n d.
I sit and I can't feel
Time passes without me
Minutes, hours, and days fly by
I sit
The pain is so overwhelming
But stops
Creating numbness like no other
I sit
In my own universe
Beyond the cosmos
Hope you like it @naanznommz !!! Thank you for requesting!
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compacflt · 11 months
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uhhh i don’t know how this works, but, in case i haven’t specified, my writing requests are open! idk, send me an ask, idk, i literally don’t know, and it DOES NOT have to be in my specific AU, im down for anything!!! I have some more free time now & this is a good exercise!! if u want me to write stuff, 🫡 here i am!*
* no promises i get to ur ask. But I will try my best.
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she-wears-glasses · 2 years
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Everything always starts with a simple
pencil.
Our minds can only create so much that
we have to put it on
paper,
and how we do that is through a
pencil.
All of the mathematical discoveries,
scientific wonders, and
medical miracles started with
a pencil.
All of the beautiful artistic creations,
and award winning novels started with
a pencil.
All of the academy award winning movies, and
scholar research pieces stared with
a pencil.
So as simple as a pencil and paper is,
they do so many more
wonders to put all of our
imaginations on
paper,
so the world could one day see in awe of
our ideas.
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eefrostpoetry · 1 year
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Hi! If it’s possible could you write about that bittersweet feeling of wanting to go back to a time you can never return to, but understanding that you cannot?
the hands of time
push you forward
while you look back
at the moments
you wish you could
return too;
how sweet those memories
still look from so far away
but there's no going back
to what's come
and past
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quietly-by-myself · 2 years
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The Crimson Thread
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@albino-whumpee thank you for the prompt!
Let me know your thoughts below
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Blood runs thicker,
Than water,
But the crimson thread,
Is thicker than them all.
A curse to some,
A lover’s promise to another,
Crimson threads connects,
Two souls through time and space.
A stronger bond than a mage and fae,
Crimson threads pierce the heart,
Of two,
And can only be cut by one.
However to cut is to sever,
To sever is to die,
The thread attaches,
And does not let go.
To cut is to kill,
To kill by allowing the other,
To wither away,
A vein without blood.
The crimson threads connect,
Across sea, sky, and thousands of miles,
The crimson threads destroy,
Across love, slavery, and betrayal.
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Ocean
He has a sea inside him He navigates it blind With no one there to guide him He drowns within his mind An ocean vast, uncharted And thick with choking kelp A sailor broken hearted A thousand miles from help
thanks to @sadmorgen for the suggestion.
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marketfreshfics · 24 days
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Em! If you're still taking poem requests, can I please ask for a female MC confessing their feelings for one of the boys? I love them all 🥰💖
Well, thank you for the dealer's choice. Truth be told, I wrote this a while ago for @ask-ominis, however, I cannot for the life of me recall if I sent it or not? Fantastic short-term memory on this one. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this so I'd love to share it here as well PS: audio cover photo by the lovely @dvinaamesca
Ominis,
It was always your patience for me.
Not your charm, though I suppose the two collaborate. You might have imagined your subtle dry remarks would be what caught my focus, your clever wit pulling grins. 
Or perhaps the wisdom you share when least expected, catching me unprepared, but always eager to listen.
No, instead it’s the time you spend simply waiting. 
For me to find a page in a textbook, sharing yours when I forget mine.  For me to finish breakfast when I’m teased for eating slowly.  For my tears to dry when I receive terrible news.
And I’ll keep with the theme of honest confessions. There are moments I steal a glance or two because your eyes, despite their drawn curtains, command a blend of awe and attention. 
I imagine someone gathered all the constellations they could carry and threw them to the wind,  landing in your irises,  caught in your lashes. 
Time is rendered priceless; easy to spend with you, and your sweetness lingers long after your presence, 
like fingers perfumed citrus after a clementine is peeled,  or heavy honey dredged up from the bottom of a tea gone cold.
But for all the kindness you offer, I notice now how empty the well you draw from becomes.
You hesitate to admit struggling, but I see the tells; bleary eyes framed by dark recesses, chapped lips bitten bloody,  chewed fingernails catching on your sleeves. 
The pain manifests in a controlled consumption from a voracious maw of your very blood.
All standards and expectations and daunts of Gaunts before you,  a decorum and propriety for archaic institutions, a plot you cease to play, and no love lost for those loved ones.
It seems this lifetime was never patient with you. And yet, you deserve all the patience of a lifetime.
This feeling, I confess, fascinates just as much as it terrifies; it’s no meager blossom in my chest but a tower collapsing in on itself, 
all massive  and loud  and chaotic. 
Still I hesitate, wary of the naivety in my chest and the musings of dreams, influential as they may be. 
So I send this, eager to know how your heart beats near me, wrapped in the taut cream and roses of your skin. 
And I wonder, quietly, innocently, if I may feel it.
I never thought I’d find myself content with waiting. So virtuous that patience is, after all.
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dolores-hazy · 1 year
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Sea Change
I heard you calling for me in the dark
But had no light left to flash back
No call and response; hadn't the voice
For that, exchanged it for legs
Used to walk away when witnessing haste
And the waste of precious resources
What a reckless pace, another foolish game
You can't win against the house and water
Tastes brinier when the sea glass breaks
••••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••••••••••••
Oh just so you know I can ride a mean wave
Every swell tells the tale too well
Fish out of water and the whale
Retains its understated grace
In the face of changing tides and
Shifting sands...farewell pale moon
Eyes that missed nothing yet misunderstood
Waxing and waning with growing impatience
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I'm not asking but taking back
What was never yours in the first place
@dolores-hazy//inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Violets for Roses", requested by @dovetwr
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thatgrrlpoet · 6 days
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Prompts or Request
I'm doing something new because I'm bored and suffering from writer's block
I am taking requests, or prompts.
Have an idea for a poem? Send me a message or comment on a post and I will respond with a poem fast as possible.
Please still keep in mind though this is my original writing and I hold all the right to it.
Thank you!
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deer + 17
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on death and dying
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