Main

Become member

A sufficiently decentralized social network

Farcaster

Poetry

Have you seen the Feeds miniapp by @procoin? It let's casters create a feed. Of course, I chose poetry, so now I'm curating "Farcaster Poetry" on Feeds.

Have a look.

Were you to cross the world my dear
To work or love or fight
I could be calm and wistful here
And close my eyes at night

Distance by dorothy parker

Under the moon’s gentle glow,
the night becomes a poem
and with you beside me,
every star feels closer,
every silence filled with love.
Good￼ night

brypto

SocialFi’s relational value flows from shared governance, mutual cooperation, and community curation.

Sus got bounced, ’cause squad’s on alert,
Fake tries to flex, yet the vibe’s copy/paste.

It's easy for me to imagine where you are, what you're wearing, and what you're thinking about, because you've captured every cell in my body...

I can't believe you're not here tonight
I can't believe I have to dream about you tonight
If you dream about me tonight, wear that same white dress...🥀

@jvaleska.eth I'll be writing a poem inspired from the image 

On a cold lonely night 
In the wilderness of thoughts 
My past hunted me down
When will I ever find rest ?

There came him, 
In the shape of the moon 
His bright light made me hypnotised 
I cast down my burdens and found rest

Alchemist. 
Block Builder. 
Creator.
Degen. 
Ethereum dev. 
Farcaster Framer.

“You are a memory no one remembers,
the instant that burns and fades
before it can be named.”

A Sonnet in the Style of Shakespeare

When golden Sol doth kiss the waking day,
And chide the moon to hide her pallid face,
Mine eyes, though weary, find a sweeter way—
To gaze upon thy form with heav'nly grace.

Thy voice, more tun'd than lark at break of morn,
Doth charm the winds and still the rolling seas;
No rose, though newly from her thorny born,
Can boast the hue that blooms upon thy cheeks.

Yet time, that thief, will steal thy beauty hence,
And leave but shadows where thy glory shone.
But love, unmark’d by fate or time's offense,
Shall live in verse though flesh and bloom be gone.

So read these lines when youth from thee shall part,
And know thou ever dwell’st within my heart.

I write poetry because it’s how I make sense of what I feel,

the unspoken thoughts, the quiet truths that live inside each of us.

The numbers 3-6-9 reveal this same pattern: creation, balance, completion.

Proof that what flows through me also flows through you. 🐚🌊

Her words
alluring not because they pleased,
but because they questioned.
Every phrase was a mirror,
turning silence into confession,
and desire into a riddle
only my soul could attempt to solve

Maybe the only scent that could ever dare to compete with yours—
and no, I don’t mean it could replace you,
or reach you,
no, my love,
listen closely
I’m saying maybe it could.

Not even with you, but with your scent,
with the scent of your body that intoxicates,
that carries one away
to an unknown world,
a world like the one
Nora Seed stood in
(from The Midnight Library)

The scent of your body that is both soul and cure,
your delicate body,
worthy only of the caress of my kisses,
nothing more.

Maybe the only thing
that could come close
when I’m far from you,
is the scent of orange blossom
drifting from the trees along the alley.

But even then
your scent and orange blossom?
They’re worlds apart

Poet: Myself

The length of your hair is like a river
that flows from Damavand
down upon your shoulders.

You are a metaphor of light
when it shines upon the snow of the mountain.

With your hands I take life,
and from your eyes
I receive the answers to all the questions of my life.

I reach the end of loneliness
when I hold you in my arms.

Poet : my self

The lover will not lose his way,
even if the path appears dark and dim.
I wish Layla and Majnun could be granted another life,
so they might ask me the way of love.

Poet: Goethe [ Germany ]