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Zack Ripley Aug 2019
You hate the gray in your hair.
I hate my weight.
You hate your freckles.
I hate my dimples.
We both hate when we get pimples.
You don't understand why people love your nose.
But that's the way it goes.
These things embarrass us.
But honestly, they're the best parts.
Because we find proof that we're human in the reflection
given off by these things we call imperfections
Ken Pepiton Jan 2019
I saw you in my dream, when I took a great notion,
jumped into d' ocean,

and I drowned,
and I went on down

to the Audubon Zoo, like hell,

listen at that crazy bird
cryin' help, help, help
what bird do'dat?

settle chile, li'l' turmoil be passin in d' gulf

Eirene mean peace
bubblin' bubblin bubblin in m'soul

Eirene, she lovel ol' Polemus, War,
she pile a level shovel full o'
Hubris, his wife,
on he's plate,

in life's lottery
Insolence was her game,
she runs War into a snare of shame

and guile. Peace.

This chase began with War,
polemics being a manifestation of the idea
Polemos and Kudoimos, War and Tumult, buried Eirine

But life is mythic, from the skinny end,
looking back:

Hurricane Irene, a misspelling in 2011 was the first hurricane to make landfall in the USA since 2008, (the summer of my trucker's migration over the map my Nemesis claimed, in another bubble).

Eirene, War and Tumult, buried her,
with Colonel Jackson's honor at
the Battle o'New Ahleans,

still she lay

right here, where I found her,
in my heart, at the very

The mechanics of the transition take position
in the hierarchy of confusin'
whish is foolishness
gone to seed.
**** drunk.

Fools know fool's gold ain't, 'n' whiskey ain't
The Real Thing.
That's Coca-cola.

Fools be essential in the gran' plan.
If we love 'em, they make us laugh,

and laughter,
you know, that's good, except,
un hold that thought, laughter is not good

when it is at you, by a fool.
Then we answer them polemically? No.

Love your enemy, here,
that's natural.
No condemnation here, since Hebrews six or romans 8
No ba'alim bubble of possessions
No grave gonna hold me down

John, 1930. Years and years and years ago
come quickly, ba'al hey sue me.
It's finished, we won.

Joke, joker. Trickster, coyote dog, do the math.
No lie is of the truth, so
no lie need remain
beyond freedom

Artsy? Eh? AI be nigh ye know.
She see yo' ever moves.
She hear you pray fo Bono to loose his religion
She snip the thread twixt spider wombed man and
the flame o' sinners in the hands of an imaginary god.

Ba'al means owner or possessor, the ideas which once bound men in oaths and covens,
fear of death, 'n' the like.

Protruding truth pushes lies into festering piles,
protrusions in secret places.

Send me those, in gold, Philistine.
I fancy them a crown of
golden emerauds.

Define, make fine or un fine my terms
excrescence is sense made of ****,
I guess.
Knurly, but no, burly, knobby swelling like
the swirling gall
that erupted from the old oak
that died at the root last year,
that we burned this year, except for the burl.
I've planned a pipe or two from that.

Everything is prophetical to a prophet.
poetical to a poet, magical to a magi, technical to a fool.

Life is simple.
Simple Simon the younger said,
hellow, darkness, my old friend, he'd com to talk

not beg or ask, but talk-com
con-verses-ifying ic-if-ication beyond


lies sublime, in no time,
once you, courageous soul,
cross the line, fight the fight, run the race,
and die;

then, you get life more abundant.
Who took that deal?

I took the one where he said,
he who does what I (me not him)
have done,
no races run, no contests forever won for everyone I love, but
he who
be lieves that I (he not me) am who I saiyam, Popeye,

even you, he has eternal life dwelling within him
in his heart where I and my father and the spirit of truth
have taken our abode to remain as long as we both shall live.

Is that what Christians believe?
Or must I be in some other
excre-essence from a
culture myth twisting into accredited layers of lies
essential excre sense,

spiritual zits, is what ******* always called em.
Once a white corpuscle has done its work,
we splat them on the mirror of our adolescent mind and find

I'm not who I was
not a child
not a tweener or a teener or a something something,

I am an old man and I am alive.
I have survived, but it ain't over, so

is there any good that I can do?
Poetical speaking. I don't work on nobody's farm,
no mo'.

True rest let me make peace with no sweat.
Got the infection, the idea Eirene is,
down deep where that great
notion makes a motion,
like g'wa, wit 'er hand,
go on, man.
g'wa, Eirene, she be callin' you.
Jump in. This is as water, to a fish. To our kind, it's more.
No missed spells, peace. Sense or non? I hope you let me know.
Denise Uy Sep 2018
i've an oily face
pimples growing everywhere
i am very stressed
rawr life aint taking it easy on me rn
mj Jul 2018
I have acne
and they leave scars

I love my skin
despite the marks

Etched on my face
is a piece art...

My skin,
surely a canvas.

I have craters

I have valleys

I have mountains
high and low

Each my own
I have learned
to love them all on my own
very pretty
or so
would think

her reflection

made the mirrors blink

she approached me
twas the look in her eyes
we knew she wanted to kiss me

we thought to myself
this girl

her face pretty

even sweet cheeks
cher Jul 2017
stretch marks specking
skin, lines etched into thighs
and chest.

bijou ruby acne wounds;
concealed behind bangs,
not makeup.

crescent fingernail indents
in palms, holding a fist
too tight.

bumps on the backs
of legs, almost as if crinkled
paper *****.

blood red threading and
seams on waists, after
shrinking jeans.

sangria and eggplant sunsets
ache to touch; swell slightly
before recovery.

these are my organic tattoos.
i thought i'd write a body positivity thing for fun, help everyone understand that these are natural blemishes and that we should embrace them. it's different to my usual writing style-- had a chat with some friends yesterday and i'm still working things out, so i think inconsistency is still ~alright~. this is what came out of that discussion, and i'm happy with it.
Àŧùl Jan 2016
I've got two big pimples,
Each located on either side of my forehead.

And distantly,
I look like the fictional Frankenstein's Monster!!

I guess these are from excessive tension...
My HP Poem #979
©Atul Kaushal
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