Hae Sun 1d
Today I saw Picasso’s self-portraits only to realize that at 14 years of age, he painted a man 5 times as old as him, believing that it was how he looked like or at least how he sees himself. At 15, he painted a woman who, under any circumstances, does not look like him nor his mother. As he grew older, the paintings became more distorted or rather abstract and surreal that some even looked like there was more than just one person in the frame. His last painting, I assume, is a face but if you look closer you will realize that they are pieces from different puzzles, that somehow, although they fit together, they are not from just one thing – but aren’t we all are?

Picasso, consumed his days thoughtfully to paint such masterpiece that reflects who he is – that he is not just any other person, that he is not just one person. He is a combination of many, the past and present, his mother and his father, the anima and the animus – all these are parts of himself, who, when put together become the Picasso who he knows.

Picasso has mastered it ahead of us – that we are more than just a face, we are a parade of many and if we do not recognize it, we might end up painting faces we don’t know, becoming a stranger inside a home.
In the deep gut of the woods,
we strip naked and play.
"Chex" under the tongue,
we whistle and wait.

Moon. Moon. Moon.
You. Ripple and wave.
Where is your face?
When people try to explain,
they say you have a face.
Moon. Moon. Moon.
You. You. Are cold white light
with infinite grace -- you don't need one.

In the high peak of our spikes,
we continue to touch.
Good. Good. Good.
Its serpentine length traces
a mold around you, fashioning stars.
You. Smash it. Smash. It.
Grind it to dust and
blow it from your palm.

You taste of human nature.
Human nature
summons a spice,
unlike star stuff.
You are beautiful
You are tremendously beautiful
You are marvelously beautiful
You are astonishingly beautiful
You are magnificently beautiful
You are breathtakingly beautiful
Inner and outer

You are beautiful
You are the definition of Beauty
Or shall I say, what is Beauty compared to you
What is Beauty compared to you ?
It feels shy and ashamed when I describe you
A weak meaning it has when I describe you
A meaningless meaning it has when I describe you
Never existed it wishes when I describe you

You are beautiful
For your beauty I searched
Every language ever lived
And every word ever existed
And the romantic era that occurred
Could not find a way to describe your beauty
Could not find a way to tell the world about your beauty

You are beautiful
Vocabulary will be invented
Words never existed
To the dictionaries will be added
In the dictionaries will live
In the lovers tongues will breath
To describe your beauty
The one and the only beauty
The living and the dead will forget about Cleopatra
Because your beauty is ultra
A new period will start, The Beauty Era
Your era
You're Beautiful. Version 1.
mjad 3d
I cover your face
With little chlorine kisses
While your eyes drown me
Haikus have never been my best work
You got me so drunk
I forgot what a hangover was.
Twisted lies,
and the devils eyes.
In between the happiness,
is what I call hate.
Unlike what you might think,
it's what made me want you
in the first place.
I crave a drop of you and your face
now and then
when I'm not really thirsty.
I search for mercy
wrapping myself in the sky,
going to bed,
planning what I might do
when you let me drink again
the next time I see you.
I have lost count of how many times
                        that I have felt so alone

Being on the Earth and walking through
                             its diverse marketplace

And yet, I find me with a different face
                               in another life walk
Another day, another form of poetry! Today's form - a Sijo!
Just pouring my thoughts and heart out in a different way.
Funny how I can find myself in other people in all walks of life.
Lyn xxx
Rohan Press Jul 13
bluejays scream: "the

world rounds about
your faces"

your lips—a flightless
facing morning (and birdsong)
Maxim Keyfman Jul 11
I looked in the mirror today
and again I saw the volcano
against the background of the ocean and farms

I looked in the mirror today
and again my eyes were yellow
on a strange bluish face

I looked in the mirror today
and again I saw myself
I saw a girl of future times


long long

yellow yellow

my face
my eyes


Aly Jul 6
Glitter on my tepid face
seems silly to me.
Can’t ever get my eyes in place,
it hurts to wear, itchy without itching.
I’m going to wash
this color off
before someone sees me.
Reds and pinks will smear drearily.
All my efforts to feel pretty,
down the drain
So why bother?

what a waste
makeup makes me feel like an alien sometimes which is why I wear it like twice a year
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