love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
When the Mind Awakens. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Free Verse Poem: Phanes touched my brow— Not with fire, but with silence. And in that quiet, A universe stirred behind my eyes. I was not born, I was revealed. Pressed from formlessness Into shape and story. My self— A fragile architecture Of thoughts, feelings, echoes. Compressed. Expanded. A breath held between the stars. Literature found me there. Not as a scholar, But as a sculptor. Each word a chisel, Each sentence a strike Against the stone of numbness. We are born Encased in the sediment Of assumption. Layers of what we are told. What we repeat. What we forget to question. But inside, We carry gems. Geodes of knowing, Invisible from the surface— Beautiful within. Crack us open And see what glitters. Defamiliarization— The estrangement of the obvious. We write not to teach, But to remember. To disrupt. To unsee, so we may see again. A poem is a pickaxe. A story, a blade. Criticism, a lens. Each is used To reach that glowing core— The human truth Wrapped in metaphor. We write to ask, Who are we, When no one is watching? What lingers In the cave of thought, Clinging to the damp walls Like ancient stalagmites
By Saqib Ullahabout a year ago in Poets
MY MOTHER
(Inspired by Ann Taylor, 1782) She held me close with loving grace, Fed me gently, kissed my face. When rest was near, and dreams were sweet— It was my mother, calm and complete. She sang to me when I would cry, A hushaby, a lullaby. Rocked me gently through the night— It was my mother, love’s guiding light. Through fevered tears and weary eyes, She watched with hope, and whispered sighs. Afraid to lose, she stayed so near— It was my mother, full of care and fear. And when her strength begins to wane, I'll hold her through each ache and pain. With all the love she gave to me— I’ll soothe her soul, I’ll help her be. Forever mine—My mother.
By The Learning Ledgerabout a year ago in Poets
Dating as a Trans Woman in a Cis World
Dating is hard for everyone—but when you're a trans woman navigating relationships in a world built around cisgender norms, it becomes something else entirely. It’s not just about swiping right, small talk, or deciding what to wear. It’s about safety. About disclosure. About wondering whether someone’s attraction to you will suddenly vanish once you speak your truth.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Poets
