Love, oh curious flame, does it not sweep souls beneath its fiery crest? Sweeps the sane into madness, a tempest wild, a ceaseless quest. Intelligent minds lost in its depth, plunging into sweet insanity, Every heart yearns for its touch—a fierce embrace of endless vanity.

A wild blaze, love burns, unending in its passionate flare, Yet tender like campfire's warmth, with night's cool, soothing air. Crackling wood, the breeze's song, an enchanting, gentle serenade, In love's mysterious dance, even skeptics like me partake in the charade.

Seeking magic in the mundane, even I crave its elusive spark, Dream of whispering in the night, "You're beautiful," in the dark. Imagine her smile, her gracious thanks, my heart softens, a tender scene, As a mother gazes upon her child, with love pure and serene. "No, you don't understand, your beauty is beyond compare, Too wondrous for my life's merit, a gift so exceedingly rare. Perhaps meant for a saint, not I, who covets what he should not hold, Yet here you are, and here I'll stay, to love you bold, until I'm old."

But alas, For you to stir my soul so deep, you must indeed be quite the dame, Change my course, enrich my life, set my stoic heart aflame. Why claim you're too grand for me, unless your impact is profoundly true? Without your essence, what am I? What magic do you brew?

Oh, How we idolize, give saints' halos to mere mortals we adore, In love's fog, we see divine light, where there's human, nothing more. Elvis crooned of helpless love, Cash burned in love's fierce fire, Yet here I stand, questioning the angelic traits to which we aspire.

I've seen the darkest human deeds, history's cruel, unyielding pain, Witnessed the potential for evil, the heartache, the disdain. Yet also the capacity for good, the useful hand I strive to be, Serving myself and my kin, with all the strength that stirs in me.

So, what more can another offer, that I myself cannot procure? Beyond the gift of new life, what magic does love ensure? I long not for love that's merely a transaction, cold and composed, But for that vibrant, thrilling pulse, with color and passion enclosed.

I seek to lose myself, to fall into a love that truly transcends, A reason so compelling, that my solitary journey bends. Until then, I'll wait, eyes wide to the wonders that might be, In hope that one day, love's true reason will unveil itself to me.

So here I stand, poised on the brink, waiting for that fateful shove, Yearning for the day I'll find that reason, and truly, deeply fall in love.

as far as I can tell, this type of post is permitted, but please let me know if not!

I want to enter the open recitation section of my local eisteddfod - mostly because I love poetry and reciting poetry, partly because competing is fun.

I'm looking for a poem that will be a good few minutes long (maybe 2-3, certainly no longer than 4) when recited, probably something quite traditional/classical. I enjoy a lot of contemporary poetry, but adjudicators can be traditionalists. I like iambic pentameter but that's a personal preference - any form, metre, etc would do.

last year, I entered with robert browning's my last duchess, one of my favourites, and received some lovely feedback from the adjudicator. another entrant chose banjo paterson's clancy of the overflow.

it's not essential to choose a poem with a narrative or a first-person narrator, but in terms of giving me somewhere to go as a performer, it would help. one reason why I chose the browning poem last time was so that I could play the character of the duke as I recited, growing more and more obviously psychopathic as the narration progressed.

to that end, two of the poems I'm considering this time are eliot's the love song of j alfred prufrock and marvell's to his coy mistress. the problem is that I don't really love either of them the way I loved the browning. I've been asking everyone in my life what their favourite poems are in the hope that someone will put me onto my next competition-ready favourite, but most people's suggestions have been too short or too contemporary. I've been introduced to some new favs as a result, but I can't use any of them. so I'm hoping someone here will have a suggestion that I'll love, and that will work for the competition as well.

happy to hear suggestions that are popular favourites, school curriculum staples, deep cuts from your favourite poets, or just poems you think are neat! if nothing else, looking forward to being introduced to new favourites. thanks in advance!

They lean over the path,

Adder-mouthed,

Swaying close to the face,

Coming out, soft and deceptive,

Limp and damp, delicate as a young bird’s tongue;

Their fluttery fledgling lips

Move slowly,

Drawing in the warm air.

.

And at night,

The faint moon falling through whitewashed glass,

The heat going down

So their musky smell comes even stronger,

Drifting down from their mossy cradles:

So many devouring infants!

Soft luminescent fingers,

Lips neither dead nor alive,

Loose ghostly mouths

Breathing.

Why ?

Let’s connect! Also where’s the poetry scene at in MI?

So I am bored and I am trying to write sonnets for the funzies and also cause I am depressed and need something to focus on other than my thoughts. I came up with this line: "He, victim, carried lifes survival blame." It feels like it follows Iambec pentameter but ChatGPT is telling me NAH. I understand ChatGPT isn't the best regarding creativity or art but there isn't anyone else I constantly check for to know if I am making a mistake. Can someone explain it to me, please?

Hello everyone! I'm looking for recommendations for a poetry book to gift my favorite professor as I'm graduating. He likes poets like Wilfred Owen, Philip Larkin, Wallace Stevens and Theodore Roethke, so I'd like to find something that matches his taste but isn't by these poets, as he likely already owns their works. Any suggestions for poets or collections he might enjoy? Thank you!