Poets + Writers discussion

Here!

Thank you ❤️

So...first of all, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Sonel.
I'm a hobby enthusiast but the main things I genuinely love to do are read and writing poetry and books (novels, novellas, manga, etc.) and painting. I do have other hobbies but these have been the very foundation of my soul since I was a kid. I cannot imagine life without them. I'm 17. But I feel like I've lived at least thirty years so some of my poems could be dark while some feel optimistic. I'm currently working on a fantasy novel. In this page, I'd not just write poetry but also some info about my work in progress story. Also, l'd love to make new friends and talk if anyone wants someone to talk to :) I hope you'll like my poems!

This is the first poem I'm posting here! I'm kinda nervous but I feel proud of this poem so I wanted to put this out into the world. This poem revolves around my two first loves: the stars, and my grandmother. I hope you’ll like it. It's a long one though. Please tell me how it is! I'm not that great at poetry to be honest but I tried :)


I was feeling metrical while watching the stars
So many poems about them, I could write
They are small yet too many to count
Like grains in a rice bag, or all the seconds combined in someone’s life.

I refuse to believe that they aren’t ascended souls
They have a science behind them, yes I know

Astronomy proved new stars form everyday
Medicine showed that people die everyday.
Philosophy insisted that stars are people who lost their lives
When a meteor comes, ‘makes a wish!’ Tradition said

Stars, as I believe, are children of the logics of science and the vividness of art.
Orion is ‘physically’ so out of reach.
Orion is ‘mythically’ a hunter so strong.
Orion, a constellation born from charting geometry and Ptolemy’s imagination.

I still feel poetic watching the stars
So close to sight yet so afar
Like a portrait of someone I can no longer touch.
Worlds apart from me yet still smiling in that photo hanging on the wall

I wonder where she is
I wonder if she found her family.
I wonder how many lifetimes of luck did I use to manifest the way she loved me

Sometimes I wonder if she’s among the galaxies
If Orion’s soul is real and one of the stars that formed his own constellation
If it’s possible to have my wish come true when a shooting star passed by
Or if all these theories are nothing but mere creations.

But it’s alright, I think.
She doesn’t have to be there in the sky, when the remains of her life were carried by the Earth.
If stars don’t grant my wishes then I’ll sit under the heavens by a hearth
I’ll say, ‘a part of her is still found in this world.’
That ‘Orion’s still discovered in books if not in a space so cold’
That even if stars are everything I’ve dreamed of or nothing at all,
My love for them will never grow old…

i love that a lot...i can feel the longing

Thank you so much ☺️

Okay time for another poem!
So this is something I recently found in my notes app while looking for a list of passwords 😅
Taking time to read it made me realise how my midnight flow state makes me write the poems I’m proud of.

At first, I didn’t want to post this cause it felt too personal but then I realised that maybe isn’t so bad to let others see it when they are showcasing their poems as well.

This poem is about how I suffered with sadness, loneliness and jealousy. I wrote this a few months ago when I felt like a side character in my own story when everyone’s being the main characters in my own chapter. Hope you like it :)

——————————————————————————————————

I do not know if I should celebrate grief
or ruin my night keeping it close
For sorrow means I get to be more poetic,
words flowing like effortless prose

But at what cost?
My dear happiness
It’s a feeling
I’d rather not miss

But lately, the sadness linger like a shadow in a corner
Whispering in my ears to stop pretending I’m fine
It’s a kind of voice that makes me think I’d rather to go to war
It’s the kind of emptiness that I’m not old enough to erase with wine

Dark emotions are haunting me,
each one a ghost in it’s own way
life is like a burial ground at the moment
My shining spark dug somewhere in a grave

Jealousy! Oh, what a fiend it truly is
But I can’t show rage towards it
How can I when life’s being unfair?
I feel like falling into a bottomless pit

I envy the lovers on the lane
I begrudge the couple on the street
I’m jealous of the girls who got back their spark
Is there a chance that I too have someone special I have yet to meet?

But my heart says I’m not jealous.
My heart says I’m aching instead
For the kind of love I watched in shows
The kind that makes me giggle in my bed

But waiting and spending my years waiting…
Waiting until I should wait some more
Is nothing less than torture and torturing me it is
Torturing me to my very core

It’s a dagger to the soul
I question my purpose in my own life
Am I not important?
Do I just exist to make others smile?

I’m unmistakably tired of fighting
of being the lonely fish in the sea
Whoever you are, oh silly lover
Doesn’t matter if it’s too soon, please come get me

Not for the sake of erasing my desolation
But for the sake of giving me all you can
For loving me so much that you’d stay forever
For accepting the world I give you with my hands

Alright alright, perhaps not the world
But would you accept my world instead?
Where I would caress you like the wind and
Willingly love you and only you until death?

"Do I just exist to make others smile?" lwk hits hard

Genuinely questioning my existence when I wrote that 😭

fr, i do that every time i write poetry 😭

😭

Okay poem time! Here I am with another poem! Anyways, the poem’s name is ‘appetite’.

It’s given that name because the poem is about hunger for a better life. Hope you like it :)


I am hungry
Not for nutrients, not for protein,
not for something that fills my stomach
Not for the food that can be seen

I am hungry for a change
I want to fulfil my starving soul
To the point where my life is no longer the same
To the point where I’m whole

I am hungry for an escape
For a way out of this constant loop
For a feast of keys that I could choose from
That opens doors where roads aren’t ceaselessly spiralling like hoops

I am hungry.
Famished with the desire to be seen
For an exciting life, for a chance
To be like the main character on the screen

I am waiting for the day when the sun shines brighter than usual
To harvest a field of opportunities waiting just for me
With crops that ample my heart in ways that aren’t literal
With choices that I can take with me and flea

For now, I’ll just hold on to my provisional escapes
I’ll run off to my own world for the sake of my sanity
By reading those fairytales and painting those princesses
Until I can wake up to a better reality

Okay so I’m back! Poem time! My apologies for the absence :)

So this poem is about regret. And it’s like a really short story in the verse of a poem. Too short for a story but little long for a poem 😅

Something that should help before reading the verse is that a lapidary is someone who is involved in cutting, shaping, polishing gemstones from crystals.

This is one of my most complex poems and one of those that aren’t meant to be explained BUT
if y’all have any doubts then feel free to ask me I’d be delighted to answer!

So here it is!


There was a cave known as ‘the past’
And a miner they call ‘regret’
A tunnel of rocks carrying moments long passed
With more than enough pebbles to get

While some stones have been shimmering with ‘nostalgia’
Others carried a flesh of crystals known as ‘guilt’
Regret was after the latter, an emotional slammer
With a pickaxe foretelling atrocity which he held by the hilt

But here I am, a Lapidary
I’ve come to follow this emotion
Like reading the old chapters of my own diary
I ventured into a mine alike my life’s history lesson

Both after the same geodes
But walked with contrasting desires
One was on a self discovery
The other’s aim was to rob ‘guilt’ from the miner

For what is guilt?
If not the aftermath of a bad decision
What use would its minerals bring?
If not regret itself in a crystal clear vision

So here I am, a lapidary
I have come to the cave to collect
What they call ‘guilt’ or should I say…
The present tense of regret?

Not to bathe in the curse of it’s gloom
But to polish it instead
Into something new, it can bloom
Like a phoenix from the dead

As a lapidary, I can shape
A gem from raw potential
I can turn my own dark memories
Into jewels that reflect something more peaceful

Because isn’t that the only way?
For my brain to rest and my heart to slow?
Or maybe I can do something else instead
To convince myself that there’s nothing I can do now

So perhaps I’ll just stay at home
Let the miner venture alone
I’ll simply recall the memories I call my own
And say ‘it’s all in the past, where it belongs’


So that’s all. A feedback is really helpful 💖

this is indeed complex
but i can feel the emotion
i can feel it deep down
this is like one of those poems
which actually makes you stop
and ponder upon it.
to think about it.
to make your own story out of it.
i love it <33
really.
your writing is really good.
i could never.
but you captured it beautifully.

Oh my god you don’t know how much that means to me! Really, thank you so much. I’m not even exaggerating when I say you made my day, thank you thank you! Your poems are just as beautiful and unique, I promise. I really really like your works as well!💖💖

Hi there! Poetry time! Apologies for not showing up for so long. Writing finals and I’m still writing them so I couldn’t concentrate on poetry 😅 anyways, I’ve been trying to practice short poetry rather than very long poems so here is something I came up with! I’m still rusty cause this isn’t my regular type of poem. Hope y’all like it!


And as my final act of devotion,
I choose to leave the shrine where the deity changed for the worst,
no longer the same you I never once hesitated to worship

I feel like it’s one of those poems that are better left unexplained but I don’t want to keep anyone in the dark so the meaning is
that as my final effort to love you, I choose to leave your company because you are no longer what’s healthy for my heart because you changed for the worst, no longer the person I believed and fell in love with :)

Thanks for reading!

it's a beautiful poem <3 the analogy really hits

Thank you ☺️

Sonel wrote: "Hi there! Poetry time! Apologies for not showing up for so long. Writing finals and I’m still writing them so I couldn’t concentrate on poetry 😅 anyways, I’ve been trying to practice short poetry r..."
Seeking love through separation, where the soul seems to detach from the living body and ascend into something sublime—much like the timeless story of Layla and Majnun. It is a beautiful, natural, and deeply affecting portrayal.

Oh I know that story (a bit). Thank you for comparing this poem to their story :)

Hey everyone! Poem time! For this piece, I was mostly focusing on the artist curse, which is that whomever the artist, whether painter or poet or any artist, includes their muses in their art, they will start losing that person forever. And I’m the live proof that it is quite real. Do not do it. It is very much real so beware.
Here’s a poem about losing a person right after dedicating a poem to them :)



For you, I've been cursed
Your distance, my price to pay
As poetry is an art and I, a poet
I've written down all I wanted to say

Forgetting that there was a spell
That all muses will separate
The moment the art starring them is revealed
The artists will be condemned to their fates.

The artist curse is no simple thing
I've been it's victim thrice
been the puppet of its strings

But is your human heart this tragedy's lover?
So awfully willing to submit
To it's whims and it's spacing power
Am I truly that easy to forget?

Do I just fade from your mind?
Never knew a replacement of me was so easy to find
Gone we're the days where you were the most kind
Could you be any more blind?

To my bleeding heart, aching for your voice
To my transperant tears, welling in my eyes
To my ink filled fingers, writing our demise
If things were as they were, oh, it would've been nice

This was a friendship woven by the Gods
But cut by the scissors of an illusion
One sided priorities cannot beat the odds
We've travelled way past communication

But hear me when I say
I still curse you for living in my mind
I love you to this day
But for myself, I will leave our past behind :)

Poem time! Just something about healing :)

I see healing as a fabric
One that’s golden like the sun
With a touch believed to be magic
It lifts up the one who drowns

The task at hand was to make a dress
One that will shape my form
And turn my misery into mirth
through a sun shaded gown

I frown at the scissors
Which I perceive to be pain
What if I destroy the cloth?
Ruined, it will be of no gain

To cut is no simple thing.
I will have to let go of many scraps
But risking the inevitable hurt though difficult, will be later worth all the jabs

For I have a needle
Which I perceive to be me
I will stitch the fibre back
And it will turn out beautifully

So in the end, in healing, I was draped
Which told boldly of my journey
Through past and pain came peace and change
I now stand at last as the author of my own story

i love it <3

Thank you Sai ☺️

Poem time! So here’s a fun fact first! Certain smells can bring back certain memories and the poem is just about that! But recalling the past is a nostalgic feeling that’s often bittersweet. So I was thinking of naming this poem ‘bittersweet paint’ you’ll get it once you read this :) hope you like it!


My mother painted the walls last night
The scent so familiar, I got taken to the past
Unable to recall the exact memory with that smell
I kept walking through moments I once thought would last

And suddenly, I’m in my childhood home
Where I smelled turpentine for the first time
Where my grandmother lived fair and well
Where the old broken clock never chimed

But no, this paint has a different scent
So I left that memory and moved on to another
Where the sun cast a warm ocher on the ground
And the world was a lot more kinder

I see children chained by the hands
And realised I’m at my uncle’s with my friends
Where I smelled acrylic for the first time
Drowning in the joy of summer days and the not latest trends

But no, this paint has a different scent
So I chose another path to walk through
Through the blurriness of the route to my cousins, I found myself in their bedroom

But no, this isn’t the right memory
Yet I’ve simply come here to admire
It was like travelling to another city
And visiting a loved one nearby

So with one last lingering look at my favourite people, I turn back quick to change the tides
Now the ship has gone sailing in the direction with all things I’d rather hide

Yet I betray myself with every wrong lead
The paint always had a different scent
My curiosity failed to satisfy it’s own need
So I return back home to the present

I watched the paint dry as I recalled my whole life with an excuse to find a smell
With teary eyes more damp than the walls, I say
‘If time fails to kill me then nostalgia most definitely will’

Sonel wrote: "Hey everyone! Poem time! For this piece, I was mostly focusing on the artist curse, which is that whomever the artist, whether painter or poet or any artist, includes their muses in their art, they..."

Sonel wrote: "Thank you so much ☺️"

Thats power right there!

Thank you! Oh my god, I even forgot I wrote that poem and honestly came here to post another poem again about the artist curse! How could I forget?! I spent another hour on the same concept. Thank you for reminding me but I guess I’ve already written another poem about the curse and I’m here to share it! :)

Your compliment made my day, truly :D

Anyways, like I said, I forgot and wrote another poem about the artist curse. However, I somehow made this more of a personal poem to someone I don’t even know about. A person in the future, I think. But yeah, it’s mainly focused on the malediction.

It’s called ‘my greatest fear.’ Hope you enjoy ☺️


My greatest fear
Ask my family. They’ll say insects
Ask my friends. They’ll bet it’s butterflies
Perhaps a truth in the past but now it’s all lies

However, my greatest fear mimics a moth
How it flaps it’s bluish wings towards a flame
My greatest threat is my own art.
A curse; it carries like a weapon meant to maim

It said you must never create for your muse
Or your poetic soul; they’ll refuse to choose
As inspiration, they have nothing to lose
But you? Dear artist, you will be bruised

I will die on the hill that believes this myth
Devil knows it’s truer than the gospel of gods
Then why, oh, why do I keep triggering the malediction?
Was it hope to break it despite all the odds?

Yet here I am, writing once more
But no name echoes in my mind this time
This is for the bravest solider of the board
For promotion, will you reach the end of the line?

My greatest fear collides with my greatest desire
One, my own hand, the other, my afflatus
‘To love and be loved!’ they cheered
In another lifetime, I declare it to be your purpose.

Break this bloody curse.

Sonel wrote: "Thank you! Oh my god, I even forgot I wrote that poem and honestly came here to post another poem again about the artist curse! How could I forget?! I spent another hour on the same concept. Thank ..."

Stay creative and stay inspired no matter what that little voice of fear has to say. Love your work!

Thank you! ☺️✨

So poetry time! This isn’t exactly a poem but it sounds poetic. I didn’t write much in this style but hopefully, this is counted as poetry :) Feedback on this is very appreciated because I have no idea why thought it looked good. Maybe because I’m drunk heh. Just kidding, I’m just exhausted. So it might look good just to trick me into shutting off my phone so do tell!


Most poets mimic galaxies, every star, a piece of our broken hearts that shine in a life of vast darkness

Many muses mimic planets, orbiting our souls for a few annuals till our love for them transcends to countless revolutions

Much poetry mimics the starlight, brightening both a planet’s sky and galaxy’s miserable shadows.

A family, you can say: A lovers’ universe and a glow birthed by their distance or the opposite; a child of their story.


Please don’t tell me I sound like an idiot. Or do. Your opinion matters 😭🫠✨

Sonel wrote: "So poetry time! This isn’t exactly a poem but it sounds poetic. I didn’t write much in this style but hopefully, this is counted as poetry :) Feedback on this is very appreciated because I have no ..."

I would most definitely say that this is poetry! I really like how it describes the beauty but also the darkness, as in the 'galaxy's miserable shadows'. Like that is everything about life, the good, the bad, the happy and the sad, except youve described that in a much deeper poetic way. Delving into the depths of the universe only to discover that even there we cannot have day without night.

Oh thank goodness. For a second, I thought it was just gibberish 😅 thank you very much!

Poem time. So this time, I've tried something more romantic:)

It's a poem I've written in one of my novel's main characters’ prespective, Ruwlun, which was inspired by a specific scene in their story, a rare moment when he lets his guard down to tell her how much it meant for him that she's a moon enchantress when she wished she was brighter as the sun instead.

It's called 'dear moon' it's what he calls her as a term of endearment <3


Being the moon never made you dull when you're the brightest of the night.

Glowing like an angel from the heavens upon the darkest parts of my life…

Taming the oceans I cross everyday in my mind.

To bask in your light for the next infinite lifetimes, I will strive.

Ruwlun has good perspective. There is beauty in the light and the dark. We don’t always have to wait for the sun to shine to discover ours.
Love the line 'To bask in your light for the next infinite lifetimes'.
Great work.

Thanks ☺️

Poetry time! Today's poem was inspired by sunflowers and their Greek mythology story where water Nymph Clytie loved sun god Helios who fell in love with someone else and left her.
The nymph's story ends in jealousy, obsession, unrequited love and devotion where she spends her last days looking up at the sky, turning into a sunflower to forever admire the sun.

I feel like my poem of this concept also covers the real life situation of some people, who truly love someone but turns out it's unrequited or oftentimes hopeless. It even makes one feel unloved but I hope they find some happiness or relatability in this piece!
The poem's name is 'sunflower'


When the nymph became a flower
The sun betrayed her every night
When the nymph remained a woman
The sun god chose to spite

When her petals turned to his light
Everyday hoping for clear skies
When her body craved his touch
She saw no true affection in his eyes

But, Clytie, you are forever loved.
By the world though not by the sun god
By me, though I know it’s never enough
Your existence is celebrated, sunflower.

Hey everyone! Poem time! So I saw a beautiful sunset yesterday and wrote a poem in twenty minutes before the sky turned dark :) Hopefully, my quick scribbling is worth reading. Hope you enjoy this!

The poem is named 'slow sunset'

Sometimes when I see the sun hesitate to set and the moon rush to rise,
all I see is two beings in love right before my eyes

One willing to stay longer for a glimpse of the other
One hurrying towards the peak to coexist together

If only for a moment
It only lasts a short time
But the sky turns pink like a flushed witness
Nature holds its breath, so do I

Cause how is that any different from us?
How is that any different from me?
I, too lingered long after it's my time to go
Just, for one last time, to watch my beloved sleep

We all becomes sloths sometimes
Not because it's our nature to be slow
But because love softens us to halt
And admire the ones we want to see glow

So I forgive the moon for rising too soon
I forgive the sun for lagging behind
I forgive myself for doing the same
Stay a second more in my arms, as you do forever in my mind.

so lovely <3

Thank you Sai ☺️☺️☺️