Free Poetry Commissions

[boo.]

OHHHHHH I LOVE WORDS. LIKE A LOT. I LOVE TO WRITE WORDS.


But more than that. I have found within myself the rather quixotic love to write verse. Poetry. It just doesnt rhyme, but it's still poetry. 


Give me a picture, name, and a bit of prose to work with. If you give me a name, a picture, and something like "Aster is brave and has a tragic past," I will not work with it. Seriously, give me some prose. A setting, something, anything!


Sample:

Take my hand, my love
​

Your skin, like ice
​

Penetrates my heart like an arrow
​

I cannot release you
​

You have locked my heart to yours
​

The key has been cast away
​

Forgotten, like turmoils and pain
​

I shall suffocate in your atmosphere
​

But yet I shall abide
​

Nevermore shall sorrow enter my doorway
​

For my soul is impenetrable to all
​

But you
​

 
​

And yet you turn,
​

Ever free of cares
​

And ever free from me
​

Your eyes, like Lapis Lazuli,
​

Pass me by
​

They do not see what I see
​

They are blind to this love
​

This quixotic, poisonous love
​

I suffer from it
​

But pain is invisible to me
​

I will linger on
​

I will wait
​

 

[boo.]

Beeeeeeep

 

[ClaveVesari]

Honesty is vestigial to the Conscience that values Ego over Character.

 

[boo.]

Mind twist


Wrapping around little icicles


Cannot see their purity


But their own is too clear to themselves


Speak of their own


Speak of their purity like snow


Ceaseless built-up, endless beat-down


Little words never hurt nobody


Just one more sentence


Keep them wondering


Keep them pondering for truth


Doesn't really matter anyway


I'm a good person


I'm a great person


Doesn't matter if I twist


Twist their mind


Just a little bit


Make them see my purity


@ClaveVesari

 

[ClaveVesari]

And at the sight of purity in eyes of every beholder


Realization of relativity incites respect for every point of view.


But those blind, vision focused inside, become furious


Turning and twisting in angles


A necessary, but excruciating isentropic process


Between Ego and Integrity


Lest they remain in static-plane state


In an Oblivion of Self.


Outer influence


Bending back Right


The light that burns through Form to Identify with warmth


A wool blanketed wind from blue sky muses


That cry out for Beauty 


Despite the Cynical, Conical Ice


Keeping Cold the Fruit of Life.

 

[boo.]

Frozen, isolated


Snowflakes dance


Silence, torture


Bitter cold keeps me wandering


Same old cycle


Same old tears


Trapped forever within my years


My vigil is a lonely one


My stars shine no light


They only stare down with distaste and respite


Keep no watch for me


I'm already gone


Dancing like a chip of ice


Lost forever in this howling wind


Pride and serenity


They tore me apart


Now my destiny is sealed


Frozen like frostbite for all to see


I'll just shiver in my own shadow


Hiding behind the mask I carved for myself


I've sealed myself stiff! Hope is no longer something I can call my own. Abandon me! I've already died; a black stain frozen upon my soul. The sun brings no warmth, but instead scoffs down to me. The Borealis above shows me no beauty, but shows me the lies I cut from my icy hair.


Snowflakes fall


A breath escapes my breast


My last


My regret


And the North wind blows me to ashes.