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Rama Krsna Jul 19
this oriental rose
textured with occidental precision
desperately seeks perfection
in all things worldly

nature’s true signature
wreaks havoc instead:
in the rocks of the grand canyon
in a mole on a cheek
in the dried but fallen leaves of autumn
even in the scribbling of our children

embrace wabi-sabi
where wafting moments of melancholy
transform to sheer joy
in the subtle realization
that coexistence with incompleteness
the proven path to release one
from the chaining bonds of perfection


© 2021
dedicated to all the perfectionists out there
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
Lief is flul of all srots of imprefections;
Nnoe of which shuold hnider uor ovreall msesaeg;
knidnses, preseverance and unedrstanding is hte kye.
It's a mixed up world.
TomDoubty Jun 26
“You are treading on thin ice”
the impatient tones of my father
arrive at my ear as glistening
I liberate my treasure prized away
from the dark-cold pond,  the ice raised distorts my sight
to comprehend  an impatient God

“Look boys, this is the land of God”
you praise the valley carved from glacial ice
you are filled with the beauty of the sight
four sons in crescent around their Father
breaths misting the air, turn away
along the ridge above the fields, which are glistening

Are memories always like this? Glistening
where everything is theatre and God?
Now I feel the urge to look away
there is truth in the distorting ice Father
which held tightly fractures, to reveal you in plain sight

That day you praised the sight
with prayers not glistening
but all sour odour and “our Father”
If you conceived a greater God
you never told him to the boy who lifted the ice-
to those who raised their arms in prayer you looked away

We are left to find a way
in life, there is no seer and no foresight
only earth and dirt and ice
but in this barren tundra glistening
scraped out with our bare hands is God
God the Father

Now I stand at that same pond a father
my son treads its edge and turns away
I am no longer in his world, but looking over it his God
And what of my sight?
Is it glistening?
I feel an unease as he raises his own comprehending ice

To all Fathers with their fading sight-
Don’t turn away from all that’s glistening
An impatient God turns to ice
They call you judgmental yet frown upon you when you are not exactly like them
They try to pick apart any possible reason for an action you take, a mistake that you make
Then boil it down to their own perfect little answer
Their expectations they hold for others can be grueling with how many hurricanes run through your head, though they claim not to ask for much
To act as if they can see right through you can sometimes be their favorite way to pass time, though  of course they don’t know half of it
The strong vibes of arrogance and judging glances they shoot behind your back are enough to suffocate you, but you choose to hold it together with a smile
Until the weakness returns, where you break down and shake
You try to place words together in your mouth, your poems, in your eyes, your soul, anything.. but the largest part of you screaming out remains silent
To expect to be fully understood by another is foolish  
For their selfishness and their narrow way of thinking are evidently highly prominent
And far too many complications are forever involved
The attempts to silent your mind  unfortunately prove to be futile
A cigarette, one drink after the other take away the gnawing pain that will eternally make its presence known
Moments of happiness turn dark as ash ever so quickly
To laugh at oneself, to lose one’s mind is hauntingly easy enough
In a world where no one truly knows your name.
Jake Mar 20
You don’t need validation.
You have already received it
through the simple act of being born
the beautiful, imperfect creature that you are.
irinia Jan 23
Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding
the black,
mid-summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them -

the muskrats swimming
among the pads and the grasses
can reach out
their muscular arms and touch

only so many, they are that
rife and wild.
But what in this world
is perfect?

I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided -
and that one wears an orange blight -
and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away -
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled -
to cast aside the weight of facts
and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing -
that the light is everything - that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading.  And I do.
stillhuman Dec 2020
It's harder for my lungs
to open up to new air
when you're here
than when you're not

After all your presence takes
all the space I used to shape
to fit my own self
my own taste

Instead you force me
into a mold you've created
Force my body to fit
my mind to submit
my patience to coexist
with things I never wanted
A life not made for me

I'm just one of your mannequins
to pass the time
when people disappoint you
life doesn't go your way
your choices don't matter
so that you can shape me
into your own frustrations
and smother my essence

I'm just one of your mannequins
and
now
that you've left
I don't fit
in myself.
I was in love with a girl once who didn't love me back. She made me feel inadequate but also the best, most unrealistic version of myself
Augina Dec 2020
Those crescent moon on your cheeks
Framing your gorgeous smile
What? You said that's imperfection?
Then... why dimples make you so perfect...
I hope you can confidently smile again
Even moon is blessing you
That crescent smile
Marisela Veludo Nov 2020
What is it to be perfect?
An illusion , a special effect?
Where is perfection?
Non existent, a disconnect

There's no happiness without sadness
There's no sun without the moon
No light without the darkness
No crisis without a honeymoon

At times he drives me crazy
Annoying, somewhat lazy
I think he doesn't hear me
Conflict .....disagreeing

The way he strokes my hair
So tender, so sweet, so bare
The way his lips touch mine
A delicasy, so divine

A balance emotionally needed
At times strong, at times defeated
All this makes me feel whole
He fills the gap, there is no hole
His every single imperfection
Becomes part of my perfection
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