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An old fashioned beauty
Staring right into my eyes
Luring me with her humanizing effect
She doesn’t want to blabber
She doesn’t want to be the queen of splendor
She wants to live
Make her presence felt
For eternity

For she is truly a masterpiece
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
An oasis in the eyes
Secrets in the mind
Chaos in the soul

Out of the confined mind
Unveiled the truth
Behind the thousand dreams

Blind folded
Told me once

She wants
To see
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Rule of law
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
I have drank the philters of the oceans
inside the notches of your sculpted bust
chiseled to perfection by my minds notion
immortal beauty to never crumble to dust

Skin of ivory with curves carved by a god
my little ivory girl how my fire burns
breathless, stiff, and lifeless left me aw'd
a singular lonely lover forever yearns

Just one kiss to those stone cold lips
just one before I visit in my dreams
my lips upon yours, hands on hips
how you look while the moon beams

lighting your lovely void face
The lips how they grow so warm!
Your arms how they tightly embrace!
By the gods, a living art form
to forever love in this dark place
Gabriel Bonney Aug 2018
You are made of stone.
As are we all.
We are all sculptures,
sculpted by the world.
But what the world will not tell you is
you are a masterpiece,
sculpted by the Sculptor.
You were made good,
your splendor carved by the Creator,
even before His creation.
The Almighty knew you,
even before a scentence
spoke the world into existance
in an instant.
He knew every chisel, ever groove, every crease,
etched in His image.
The world had convinced you
that you have a heart of stone,
but this is not so.
Though your exterior may be
as rough, inflexible, and ridged
as a rock,
your heart is written in blood
and laps against your rigorous appearances.
Your heart,
my counterpart,
is not made of stone.
It is a roaring sea,
of soul and emotion you have left alone,
and it longs to break free.
haecceity | Latin | (n.) the essence of a particular thing that gives it its unique particularity; the "thing-ness" of a thing--its individuality, specificity, essence of what makes it what it is
Sam Aug 2018
i can
her lips
and the way
they close

i can
her voice
and the way
it moans

i can
her pulse
on a

but i can’t
a heart
that’s made
of stone
Tony Luxton Jul 2018
He sees through it, like
the young tend to do,
a modern stone sculpture
with holes you can see through.

Having recently read
'The Emperir's New Clothes',
he thinks they're at it again,
expensively baffling brains.

He looks through the spy holes
at their puzzled attention,
amused at the bemused,
using their words of pretension.
Sun Drop Jun 2018
As the chisel strikes the marble, so the psyche shapes the man.
Perfect in his alabaster, carving self from his own hands.
And once honed, his craft can grow by drafting bodies made of stone
Sourced from quarries free of worry, something he can call his own.

If he wishes to ascend beyond his animal desires,
He must grow a patience cold enough to ***** the raging fires
Burning hot against his skin and so within his weary soul,
For his enemy resides in him, and stokes the glowing coals.
I'm back
Mystic Ink Plus May 2018
Carving a beautiful world
Handed heavy hearted

To whom it belongs
Genre: Haiku
Theme: Behind the scene of every artist
Red-haired artificially
with shiny teeth,
clean knees
with a gap in between.

and my voice will carry
like a songbird in the morning.
Beautifully composed
uttering a peaceful warning

My linens
So pink...
no blue stains to be seen.

And the skin I wear
airbrushed and screaming
a lulled importance

With my night creams
and appointments
lessons and ointments

I will become the most perfect woman-made sculpture America has ever seen.
ottaross Apr 2018
Empty block
Full of everythings
To be carved into something
That was already in there

Finally revealed
It wasn't hidden by the unremoved pieces
But rather by billions of other shapes
That all sat juxtaposed
And each with just as much of a right
To emerge as the chosen shape did

Fragments of The Others
Worthy of reverence
Lay strewn on the floor
They gave themselves
That The One could exist
Those that never were
The unseen
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