Of her favorite color palette
Were every bit as neoteric
As they were triturated
--broken to pieces
Inside a mailer
Without bubble wrap
Based on a true story.
BLT's new challenge- to write a poem using the Merriam- Webster word of the day, neoteric.
With this brush in my hand
I paint new visions
New forms of escape.
It can not be denied
That I am an artist.
It's a tool
Not a weapon
A medium in which I have control
If only for the day.
It's not an advertisement.
No part of me is for sale
Now or ever.
I'm not being dishonest
By choosing how I present myself
Nor is it about you.
This reflection is artwork
Any interpretation is all your own.
It's all a product of my own liberty
And it runs much deeper
Than you might want to admit.
Within these simple brushstrokes, I run free
An untamed beast
With brightly-painted claws.
I am not caged
By the stripes that I create.
I feel there's a lot of stigma around makeup. Kind of silly, considering it's very much so an art form...
Symmetry deficits call for chiaroscuro.
Highlight the summits,
and diffuse shadows at the vertex
of cheekbone and mandible.
Colour the apples, rubescent as newborn flesh,
and soften edges for a gentle definition.
If you paint claret from bow to corner
it can create something fuller; induce desire-
Valencia can bleach the blemishes.
Liquid or matte lies in pesky furrows
and rots like carrion in warm weather:
remember to blot excess sebum prior.
Are you pneumatic? Applications can support you-
with enough you can acquire
something ample for a decade.
Look to the lens. It winks;
raise brow in a clean cut, diagonal
from nostril edge: the playful frame apertures admire.
Share with friends:
and sigh at affirmations.
Those red lips,
forged by MAC
are but only one color
in the endless stream of
A random thought that came through my head during a car ride through the city.
— The End —