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Elizabeth Jun 2018
Be the flower that never stops blooming. Be the rose on a rainy day and be the sunflower on a summer afternoon. Be the model and make them tempted to tear you from your roots. Feel the hurt when they rip you from the ground and treat you like a doll, but know you aren’t a doll for sometimes pretty hurts. Know what it feels like when someone else appreciates your beauty. - I hope one day they take pictures of you and hang you on their wall
I want to be a florist just like you
Louisa Coller Jun 2018
Oh! Happy, Confident, It’s finally all done!
My happy moments of truth felt brighter than 30 suns,
I finally got through it even if it hurt a tonne,
annoying all my new friends with overrated puns.

Fans from left to right are finally meeting me there,
I speak words of wisdom and hope that they learn,
they comfort me from all the stories I share,
who knew it would all change you see? When I begin to turn.

Fair skin walks towards me with smiles of pure glee,
I know there’s something here, I see it in his eyes,
he looks up to say, he’s always wanted to see me,
I hold a moment in time, I can see him rise to the highs!

Shades of red covered us both,
it became a blanket of pure hope,
I then vowed to take an oath to see your growth,
to see you excel beyond this *****.

He reminded me of when I was just a dreamer back then,
When I always wondered when...

He sprung up happy, I could tell,
the spark in him never shone so well.
When I was talking to many people starting out YouTube, they would sometimes ask me about it:
    • How can I do this?
    • Is there a secret?
    • Do you know how I can get a following?

In honesty, people just want to see nice, genuine caring people.
Of course you can make views easily by being a **** to everyone because drama sells, but in the end of the day, it was genuine people, being themselves.

One in particular stood out to me when I was young when he started out, was this guy who was really shy at first, but he was an absolute sweetheart, heart of gold and a mind filled with ideas and ambition. I always wanted the best for him and sadly I cut off with them.

Many years later I did see them have their own uprising of following and it made me happy. I was quite glad to know that I could inspire someone to be themselves and go out there to show off who they really are.

I was inspired by irregular ode mixed in with some free versing for this. I wanted to create almost a structure of hope, a feeling of importance and happiness.

Odes are something I do need to practice, but I do think I did a rather good job.
If the sky were a pool, a swimming pool,
You cloud would fit the rule
Sunglasses and Lillo-pose
Who caught who you suppose?
It's as though you'd just noticed
A human at the window

Peeper human had seen the model cloud
In her fronds of glamour shroud.
You are staring because I'd been
Now you've noticed that you've been seen
With a gusty windward swoop
You drop somewhere into the pool

Ah, I say
And back away...
mark john junor May 2018
her entrance was full of
beautiful blue-hued stars
filled with the nuance of a touch of romance
inspired by her i make clear announcements to my heart
that this daughter of moonlight
treads the path to my dreams
alone scatters pages of rose scented poems
along my veins to the point of creations fire
even her tears spent for me are gracious and kindness

after her entrance
blue stars settle on the bare floor
in exquisite patterns that flavor the minds meal
that lends its rich texture and sensations to the bodies temple
she lay in repose like a field of summer wheat swaying
in the cool breeze
she lay in the folds of my blankets
like the queen of hearts
a luscious liquid in her every move
softly she speaks every embracing word
that cools your heated brow
comforts your beating heart
she knows just what to say to ease you
she knows just how to weave you

beneath her entrance
her barefoot leavings are a track
that have led many to their unwitting tale of woe
where from a great distance can they
with longing and tender expressions put to page
placed ever so delicately into envelopes
headed for the mythical west coast
the land of palms and glitz
forever summer
in the land of golden statues

after her entrance
i have within my grasp
a poem of her
a poem of her moment
a rich tapestry that is woven into
the fabric of her Paris fashion catalogue
where she is a French princess in prints 8"x10" glossy

poems © 2018 mark john junor all rights reserved
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Pretty ****


They claim she’s beautiful; I wanna watch her fall,
Because she sold her soul and now I just want her type to go!
Plastic surgery; left her with a ruined nose,
Her heart has decomposed and a---ll I can scream is n---o!!!


She has a striking face;
Shallow beauty is a disgrace.
They say she must be idolized;
No!  She must be improved upon
And replaced!


She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty **** to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty **** to a loser who looks like me.


Where are the nice ones?
I hate the rich ones!
The golden age of beauty has come and gone
And all that is left, to use, are the blondes!


I hate vanity!  I have vanity;
I hate everything that you have done,
To challenge me with your beauty.


She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty **** to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty **** to a loser who looks like me.


She lacks sympathy; I lack mercy!
There is no dignity in selling your body to a magazine page.


These are just my conscious thoughts;
Where are the pretty souls?
There is nothing left inside to hide
And all we have to use are these knowledge bombs of rage.


(Repeat these lines as the song becomes quieter and fades out.)

She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty ****,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ****.
She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty ****,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ****.
She’s pretty ****, she’s pretty ****;
She’s pretty ****,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ****.



(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Pastelblitz Mar 2018
I sketched a model yesterday

I studied her body
The dips of her hips
Her flat stomach

But the more I studied her body
The more I wanted to know about her

Her as a person

Like how she gotten into modeling for artists
So they could study the body

I wondered if this was the only job she had
I wondered if she struggled with her body

But

The more I sketched
The more I realized that the body was art
TD Feb 2018
Lounging on the poolside
like some die cast model for hopeful artificiality,
sweat-slick and ignorant
a shy lobster cooking in her dreams
it was... fate.

Fateful really.

Scuttling up the mirror
the underside tender.
And peering wistfully
at a storming sea
from one precarious perch.

I thought in shades of red.
and I was blue.

Fantasies leave sunburn
in the worst places.
A bit of wry self-deprecating humor for you. lol
Egeria Litha Jan 2018
When I speak my point of view
You get so angry and tell me it isn't true
Spitting venom from your tongue
Then deny it all when I hold you against
Your words
Oh but now I've got you on tape
And recorded remind you of the harm
You started
Now you can't lie with a third witness
Spitting venom cause I ****** you off
Like a teenager you tell me off
The consequence for speaking my mind
Walking on eggshells on a runway line
Everyone sees me on edge with you
It's never going out of style
Cause always and never are your favorite lines
Pin you against the cliff of your poison
Forced to jump or admit your abusive
Submit to your demons they don't want you to know they run the show
I am the model for survival
And you are the cat walk
As I suddenly slip and fall from grace  
Broken from the words you say
The world photographs in distaste
And disdain
I gather myself and walk away
I wrote this poem after feeling like I actually won the first argument ever with my mother. I got her to acknowledge her verbal abusive for the first time in her life. Such a big deal for me.
S P Lowe Jan 2018
shade shadows
of dark skin
head neck
chest hips

darken rolls
of stomach flesh
blow away
charcoal dust

curve calf
over seat
blend fold
of white sheets

steady hands
sketch toes
crescent nails
foreshorten soles

erase
This piece goes with a drawing of a male model (****) I made for a college art class. Back facing viewers, the model is sitting on a stool that is covered with a white sheet. Hope that clears up any confusion.
A Flemish
girl here
this season
with the
sun still
got her
tan with
alabaster lotion
and coconuts
while her
gratis was
her navel
shone lustrous
that subhuman
portrayed their
South Beach
fine indeed
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