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Origami paper boy
Your paper is pulled too thin,
I see the cracks and creases
They let the darkness in.
Don't you fear the rainy days,
And the wind that pulls your heart?
Do you fear the idea
That your paper days won't last?
Jay M Mar 11
My pigeon army
Made of paper
Some big
Some small
You'll never count them all

I make them when I'm empty
I make them when I'm weak
I make them when I'm running on little sleep for a week
I make them when I'm unhappy
I make them when I can't feel
Anything good or real

Blank or lined
I use what paper I can find
Then I fold
Then; behold!
A pigeon of paper
Some big
Some small
You'll never count them all

I fold and fold
My arms are filled as I hold
My little creations
Bringing me a slight smile
But they just sit with me for a while

So, I do what makes me truly happy;
I give them away
To others who could use something to brighten their day
And what better way
Than a gift
Of a small, little pigeon

How many I've made,
I'll never know
All I know is
This pigeon army will grow
And spread a smile
All the while
I still make more
And I never bore.

- Jay M
March 10, 2020
Whenever I'm not doing so good, I fold origami pigeons and give them away to people. Whoever seems like they could use something to brighten their day, or whoever just looks like they'd be happy with one sitting with them someplace. I love making people happy - that makes me happy. Maybe it's foolish, but it's just what I do.

I made 23 tonight. These little guys keep piling up around my house - they're everywhere! Guess I'll hand some of them out tomorrow - give someone something nice.
Hang me
Like a Dali painting.
Oil on canvas,
Blood on skin.
No one understands me
Anyway.

Drape me
Like foreign fabric.
Silk on bedsheets,
Clothing to vessel.
No one feels my softness
Anyway.

Fold me
Like intricate origami.
Paper to paper,
Chest to chest.
No one feels the heartbeat
Anyway.
madameber Oct 2019
Sit down and watch me
Bend over backwards
And sideways, dividing my body
Into diamond shapes, I know
I started off a little square,
Just a little worse for wear,
But I could make you smile.
Patterned pretty, I was made
To please the eyes,
And I caught yours, and
You held mine,
But something about me
Wasn’t quite right, I’m sure,
Got boring, I’m sure,
After a while my patterns
Weren’t pleasing anymore, and
I couldn’t make you smile.
I know I started off a little square
But I’ve learned how to multiply,
Fold up all that I am
And divide into different shapes,
Make no mistake, I could become
Anything for you.
I learned how to be
A crane, a swan, a star,
Learned to ignore the pain
And stretch myself out farther
Than I ever had before,
Trying to be something more
Delicate, more intricate, pushing
My body to try new things,
Trying to fly with paper wings.
Even as my patterns lock
Out of place and new and old
Creases contort my face,
Watch, my love, I'll twist
Into new shapes, all that I am
Is yours to remake,
And - Why are you apologising?
I don’t understand
Why you'd start trying
To untangle my limbs,
Open me back up into an
Empty square that wasn’t enough.

I’ll sit down, too,
I guess, even though my corners
Look a mess, lines hanging crooked,
Pretty patterns depressed,
But you’ll hold me, anyways,
Close to your breast,
And you’ll smile.
I try to, as well,
But traces of past shapes
Press against the corners
Of my lips,
And I wonder if
I can still smile, too.
with a little more.
LC Sep 2019
whenever she sees him,
the corners of her eyes
crinkle into intricate origami.
if anyone looks closely,
they'll see a soft glow
and maybe even folded hearts.
that's her love for him.
Keiri Aug 2019
Crease your fears and unfold your trust.
Wake up from your endless rust.
Believe in me and so you must,
See the green within the dust.

Start over, create a new begin.
Don't throw your past in the trash bin.
Don't see your paper as a great sin.
Try to stick the good within.

Fold and fold until you shape.
A fair sheet with a neat gape.
All your good marked by tape.
Let all your worries ease and escape.

It is now ready to be seen.
And you should be very keen.
This is how you should have been.
If only you weren't so terribly green.

A flower made by your own hands.
If only you gave it a chance.
abstract poem where origami images the way I have been dealing my life.
Silver Aug 2019
delicate folds into endless
creases, the wrinkles
in mother's hands. asking for
more, taking
& creating new faces
when you think the last of you is gone.

& though the world may
    tuck away your
    flaws &
    pleat you into
    origami stars,
take to the earth,
uproot the trees.

stand tall as your last in-
carnation,
become the called bluff
& bloom in the space
between   sky
                   &
              ground.

                     before you hit the earth,
                     become the bird that you
                     are & perch on
                     opportunity.
8/5/19

experimenting
quiel Aug 2019
you lie
in between my
syllables and words
in these
carefully arranged
lines
like a piece
of origami;

i hide you
in my
poetry.
Joyce Jul 2019
iv
will you do me a favor,
a crease and a fold.
turn me into roses and hearts
for the dear one you hold.
turn me into a thousand cranes
and your wishes are sold.
turn me into envelopes
for the letters in the drawer gone cold.
turn me sideways, over and upside down.
turn me into something i can never become.
origami
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