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Jade Bartlett Jan 31
No matter how
you sugarcoat it,
there is never
a nice way
of calling someone
fat.

I.E.

“You would have been beautiful
in the Renaissance era
[because in the Renaissance era
they painted portraits
of chubby girls like you—
back then,
fat was artistry.]


I still don’t know what
I was more upset about:
The backhanded compliment--
"would have"
being synonymous for
"no longer"--
or the fact that
I was conditioned
to believe the
Mona Lisa
was anything short of  
sublime.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
John Shahul Oct 2018
Whenever  I am not seeing you
Lethal void is my heart
Like the monolithic art
Of a sculptor;
Like the figures of Mona Lisa,
I tried to engrave you
Again and again in my heart
And rehearsed you many times
In my memories.

To reconstitute
Your beautiful image
Inside of my mind
I behold you thousand times,
Yet all loving and languishing
Nothing could be captured
To match your perfection
As you were seen in person
Nor could be remembered
To your many dimensional figure
Of youth unclaimed.


You are just beautiful but demure,
Seductive but unrevealing
A love that slips down
Near your lips were forbidden?
And be never told?

Like two balsam flowers unfold
Opening from their buds,
Your eyelids are open wide.
Like two bees ******* honey
My eyes were seeking yours
To ferret out the secret
Of your true love and desires;
Neither did they come out
Nor did they flutter
And never reached out
My beehive safely.

Seeking out for your true love
In your eyes, in your lips,
Cheeks and chin far and near,
Everywhere  all over you,
Looking at you all the time.
You are open to interpretation
Of your true intention
Of your love and desires
Like the secret smiles
Of Mona Lisa.

Until you make confession
Of your true love,
I will behold you thousand times,
You are just beautiful but demure
Looking for you all the time.
You make me dream about you
While in my sleep or I am awake.

My discrete memories
Are overshadowed by time,
I cannot fight with my feelings
Whenever  I am not seeing you,
Lethal void is my heart,
Come and meet me in person!
syncopation Oct 2018
Keeping you as my secret
As though the world unknowing
Is infinitely empowering
Like the Mona Lisa smiling
Her gaze perpetrating
Knowing thoughts discerning
Never disclosing yet ever imparting
Secrets untelling
Keeping you guessing and searching
For an inevitable unveiling
Yearning unabating
Pyrrha Aug 2018
We always talks about putting our broken pieces back together
Or we speak of mending another with tape and glue
Like stitches that won't undo
But putting the pieces back together wont make them new
Why don't we ever think about picking up each others broken parts
And placing them where ours once were
Instead of fixing a puzzle with missing pieces
Why don't we become art
And fill each other with beautiful parts?

All that you find broken about yourself
All that I find rotten within my hollow shell
Are colorful pieces to complete a work of art
If you take some of me and make it beautiful
Then perhaps one day I too could see the beauty I betray
I'll do the same for you as I collect these magnificent additions
To the masterpiece that I make of myself
One day we will become Mona Lisa and The Starry Night
Not only will we be the art we will become the artists
As grand as DaVinci, as unique as Van Gogh
We will fill this world with our broken art
And make others learn that there is beauty in every splintered part
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
Art, a smile like the one
on the face of Mona Lisa.
Curved like the waxing moon
above the sea.
Light a flame before a face
yet to be seen.
What will it prevail,
will it show once for all
a slow tilt on the smiling lips
—a curve softly locks on
a rose from the sun,
or a shadow beneath the moon?
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
https://www.slikouronlife.co.za/song/12818/yakauli-t-r-i-e-dy

Yes, T R I E D can now be downloaded and you can listen to it, please use the provided link above and enjoy.

Produced by. Sabelo Mhlanga(Taylor Reeds)
Mixed and Mastered by. Sthembiso Lukhele(Phantom)
Features : C.Front(Hloni) and Monalisa.
Written by. Menelisi S'phiwo Moya(TheWordIzwi, YaKaul)
Genre : Spoken Word.
1. T R I E D took a year to write, and the month it was published was the same month I started writing it.
2. Started writing T R I E D while I was happily involved with someone, so no it's not actually directed to anyone.
3. The poem is from a guys perspective and not just me.
It's not always the girls who give their all. Guys give just as much.
4. T R I E D has two other poems in it which were initially separate poems.
5. The last verse of the piece was actually inspired by someone.
T R I E D F A C T S
Ivan Diaz Jan 2018
From the Eiffel tower
to the french riviera
The louvre where the
Mona Lisa hangs
Time for a ride down
the  seine river where
our love drains
Florivee Dec 2017
Amidst the dark sky tonight, she remembers the sky so blue-- so sad. Its reflection she sees in the sea is so ****. She saw a face with Mona Lisa smile that people have seen but have not felt because they don't bother.

She was always a canvass-- plain, waiting for others to color her world. And sometimes when it's dark, she thanks the darkness for she can see the **** reflection no longer.

It's her time of the day to become a poetry, a masterpiece built from dreams and feelings. It's her time to be felt rather than seen-- to die as Mona Lisa and to live as Kilmer's "Tree."

Because they don't know, they don't know that she doesn't want to be like that. That she wants to do so much more than to just smile.
Beinghonest Mar 2016
But I know one thing:
If I had enough skill,
To accurately depict your face
Using paint brushes,
I'd instantly become a world renowned artist...
For creating a masterpiece that trumps the Mona Lisa.
-just being honest
Michelle Aug 2015
his smile more intriguing than that depicted in the mona lisa.

his hair so golden it puts van gogh's sunflowers to shame.

his eyes pop brighter than lichtenstein's art.

eat your heart out, monet, for my man is far more beautiful than impressionist landscapes.

and why did michelangelo not paint my darling on the sistine chapel?
for he is an angel on earth.

for he is a work of art.
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