w e a r e t h e o c e a n . . .
y o u a r e t h e s u n s e t . . .
I a m t h e s t a r l e s s
s k y . . .
Personally, I hate this type of poetry, and don’t even find this poetry, but I had a thought and thought it should go on here for aesthetic purposes... yeah... this does not make sense, but hey, it’s all about aesthetics, right?
Update: honestly, this was made as a parody on those Rupi Kaur type of “poems,” and it really concerns me that this has more views than some of my actual poetry...
My thoughts arranged in poems
My words spoken in song
Every movement I make
Falls with such grace
Following the rhythm of a tune
I paint my face like a blank canvas
With colours unnatural to me
I sort them in shapes and patterns
Distinct and differently
I pick a character to play
I will be her today
Then return to being me tonight
I am a work of art
A work in progress
A creatively driven sight
1. it's that flash
to your blank thoughts.
2. it's that exhilarating feeling
of creating something -
of actually creating something -
with your endless procrastination.
3. it's your canvas
being filled with splatters
of paint and glitter.
4. it's art.
an updated version of my 2016 "art" poem ✨.
My French Gem
The Rose tickler
The movie part gave
her the sign life
crossed over gem
French kiss the morning
The burst of Kaleidoscope Sun
Double touched but forbidden
On the Cheetah necklace chase
The French Lieutenant
her body and lips moonstruck
On her chaise
To get over it another work of art
that got more attention
To revive her from drowning in
the gem scattered like a
blue splat philanthropic
Looking more into his unknown
diving suit mixed
with envy green how she got mixed into
the stranger of Poison Ivy
Her love didn't show all her
attributes God spiritually well
She went to the pastry heart
how it flaked all
over like crystals
He was patiently sitting but got persuaded
That little gem of the lounge
Her firey gem was the canary
that got his tongue
Her gem stands taller
The crafted lines of quality in the
"Le Bonheur De Vivre Gem-Art"
French kiss went inside the darker side of the painting
Shape heart delicate uniform.
"Parisians on a mission
A kiss is a serious manner
LOVE" Gem birth opens her
He modifies her rainbow
Artwork of brush yellow
twinset platter hello fellow
the essence beloved to follow
So worth her wait being watched
By the crystal rock, he loved her
going up in spirit or she falls for him
The gem to be it
Magical modernly gem -fit clock.
See through hands meditation harp.
Lebonheur De Vivre fine art sharp.
Lips movement beyond hearts.
Le-bonheur De Vivre gem arts.
Artesian heels tapping boots.
Fall for Autumn love cahoots.
Beloved, divinely he's the healer.
The picture spoke she's the winner.
Wilderness he glides kisses prints.
Pushing her waves hints.
Everlasting one thought he's guessing?
Art never part beautify stem.
Eyes so genuine he's her gem.
This is the French Gem Europen setting like an artist love
graphically so smooth but cool would you want to be her gem being loved by him
He fills my freckles with blue,
My hair with yellow.
Oh to see the world as you do,
I would give every future breath
for a moment of clarity.
I touch the side of my thigh and feel the familiar ridges and raised skin, that I can not decide if I’m proud of them or asaimed. I could point to each and every one and say the reason and date, but I don’t. My thoughts are more twisted than that kid in fourth periods spine, you know who I’m talking about. People will look at me and the way I present myself and make snap judgments. Those judgments leave little voices whispering about how you are wrong. Ignore the good ones, they say. They are wrong, they say. My face blends in a crowd so easily, don’t think I’m complaining, I want to blend into the crowd.
This might be a bit triggering
You are a month of new beginnings.
You carry snow on your back and cannot
let go of the frustrating challenges you lay upon us.
You can be irritable at times but know how to
make up for the bad memories.
Your as bitter as black ice but as sweet as
the sparkling snow I mistake for sugar.
Promise me one thing, be sure to make each day
last, because soon enough you will disappear
behind another season. Behind another day.
Bring me along!
To your road trip of fun!
I'll hop In the backseat,
Unbothered by the summer heat,
And we'll drive till your fingers blister on the steering wheel.
I can ride along!
S'long I can pick the music,
Ain't really nothing to it,
But we might hit some old superchic,
Oh! Bring me along!
My skin itches to touch the hot air,
Blooming through the window,
Oh won't you let me tag along?
I'm not okay
but I'm not broken either
I'm caught somewhere in between
Caught in the middle of the fall
just waiting for my ribs to shatter
all at once
once at all.