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Though I style my curly braids with ribbons bright,
and colour my sweet moist lips with royal red
to look as bright and fair as a newly wed.
Though I stand on two towers to get a better height,
with eyelashes that beckon at each gazer.
Though my trendy gowns make me a trailblazer
with great designer labels that distinguish.
Though I have curves which men wished they could relish,
revealed slightly through my ******* clad frame.
Though I have this charm which could hardened hearts tame,
making vicious criminals to dream and lust,
still I am nothing more than organic dust.
Beauty is like a Flower. It blossoms for a while and then fades into oblivion.
TomDoubty Aug 24
Make a wish, and then its gone
A curl of smoke now a spent dry wick
Happiness held for a moment

Then the sickly spittled cake
For the birthday boy, mum loads him up
And jealous friends crowd round
Skirting round the edges,
Dad takes a snap at mum’s request
Happiness held for a moment

Further out, against the wall
Elderly relatives watch it all
In prickly jumpers, sovereign chains
Fisherman’s friends and pocket change
Slow and still, they watch it all

I unpack the plastic crap my parents bought
Parents doing all they ought to get me hooked
That plastic smell like sniffing glue
The cheap thrill of something new
Happiness held for a moment

Party bags at the door and then its over
Thanks are forced from mouths
By parents with an eye on the morning
Outside the orange October light is fading
On streets the lamps are lighting
And  the hush of school tomorrow hangs there
Among conkers and chimney smoke

Back inside my home the smell of boys
hangs in the air; a fug trapped
in deep pile and double glazing
The telly’s on now and **** are burning in the ashtray
Now they’re asleep, and its over

I sit surrounded in my room at the back of the house
The orange light is coming in through thin curtains
I can’t move for presents yet I feel I am imploding
Like a crinkled balloon, expelled of everything
Feeling everything and nothing
Happiness held for a moment

August 2021
TomDoubty May 6
Beating heart blush out my blood
Then rest then rest then rest then rest

Cresting waves crash on my shore
Recede recede recede recede

Howling gale you lash at me
Then breathe then breathe then breathe then breathe

Expanding universe you stream away
Return return return return

In life we fill then die away
In darkness our constricted iris widens

Our life
like a time-lapse nature film plays out:
We grow then wilt
We bolt and quiver to life
Then stagger back to earth
Eaten up and born again

And everywhere this motif
As simple as the bloat in a frog's throat
Systole, diastole
Our beating heart
and gasping breath
Onwards and forever
Our lives lived outwards
Filled at rest
TomDoubty Apr 18
Rhythmic
Tearing
Cow on grass
Settling rooks
Cross sky
All around
Sound playing
Scent
On wind
Descending
Sun
Gold leafing
The horizon
Obscuration
Veiling arc
And furrow
Crop
And shadow
Poplar lined
Fields below
Quiet here
Above
A moment
Passes
Contrast sharpens
Trees recede
Into darkness
Sun bleeds
Into Earth
TomDoubty Apr 18
Is this what writers do?
Conjure the worst then set you there, contorting
to listen for the beauty that sings in suffering?
Your boiling body fights, trembling
and next to you in darkness, brooding
I see the struggling and the worst
and imagine  your beauty

as a memory that enters a room
full of mourners-
sunlit breeze captured
in billowing fabric
which turning and holding
you there for a moment
lets you go
as the tears and the chatter
go on

Jan 2021
TomDoubty Apr 11
The river has pressed its sleek back
Beyond the bank
Forcing walkers back
From their path
Giving ducks new horizons
Opposite me here, wet-footed on the bench
A bare tree is troubled
By some submerged thing
Making a frail and trembling hand
Of its upheld branches
Water moving through this place
Like a dark serpent
Water that fell on hills
Yielded from ice
A hundred miles from here
Passes me now
And passes the willow
Hanging in the last orange light of day
Trailing its fingers
In coils and eddies
It is all framed here
Indifferent and alive
Alive and forever passing
a man's word
is all he has,
a poet's word
may just be
a pipe dream.
words are all I got
to give these dreams
some meaning.
If they disappear,
before they reappear
would you have them?
Also applies to people.
jaden Dec 2020
she's got eyes blue enough to swim in,
deep enough to drown in.
she'll make you want to get lost at sea.
i didn't know it was possible to love the undertow
until i met her.
she will draw you in
just like the moon pulls the tide
in an attempt to keep the two bodies together.
yet she will ward you off,
keep you at bay.
it's hard to fall in love with a sailing ship from the dock.
she is a beacon of light too bright to observe.
her hands are the coldest you'll ever hold;
i think her heart is too.
she's always been too scared and unprepared
to let anyone get close to her.

the girl that carries the weight of the world on her shoulders
but isn't strong enough to walk away.
j.c.
december 22, 2016
around the bends of my mind
lies some memories
of uninhibited realism
of high fidelity
to myself
in letting myself go
somewhat joyous
somewhat chaotic
somewhat musical
but just there
to feel and see things
for more than what they mean
through my own eyes
seems rather unusual
but I go back in time
take a deep-dive
to recapture these ephemeral bubbles
of blissful euphoria
as if singing
to my alter ego
'We can be heroes,
just for one day
We can be us,
just for one day!'
Heroes by David Bowie seems to be the perfect song to relive those high-on-life moments.
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