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Austin Sessoms Apr 2012
little birds work their way up her neck
as if her ear would give them
the rest they deserve
their colors are fresh
ink is set
clearly their flight
has not been long enough
to make them fade
but hidden by hair
not quite long enough
to obscure them
just long enough
to give them shade
from time to time

I long to give those birds
the rest they deserve
to lend them my lips
as a momentary resting place
on countless occasions
in the years to come
I long to give them hope
to show them that their flight
their constant motion
is unnecessary
and that it is ok
for them to settle down
Alienpoet Jun 2022
Over the surface of feeling
skin healing
from cuts bruises and scars
what happened to us being made of stars?

we sit in black holes
no money for energy bills
it’s a battle of wills
to survive
we strive
Just to be alive
and yet our dreams perish
yet we should cherish
each other.
Nigdaw Dec 2021
depicted on her arm
hieroglyphs and pictorial charm
tattoo sleeve deep dive
into an ocean of everything
she finds so hard to relate
left hanging in the air
but don't question it
like the elephant in the room
move right on stranger
it's not speaking to you
there is a cult of believers
a religion based on trust
if you need to ask the reason
non-believer you are lost
in a garden that's a secret
that's already cast you out
you'll never know her freedom
it's a dish you just can't taste
Nigdaw Oct 2021
he conveyed an exterior
tough as a nut
layered as an onion
sharp as a knife
tattooed like a gallery
hidden emotion displayed
across the canvas of a body
scarred by conflict
battered by life
he walked defensively
a single minded direction
where to go
what to do
pushing through crowds
though no one dared
challenge him
XPY Sep 2021
Tattoos are scars
we choose to keep--
words we want to carry,
memories we fear losing;
ink and needle are
the self-inflicted stinging:
the pain we choose to feel.
art on our bodies--
out of our minds--
I have my father's name tattooed on my wrist not because I forgive him, but because I have forgiven myself and I choose to carry that with me.
I trust my deep scars inside/outside me,
cause they stayed for long , even others had just left
Atleast scars that you didn't want to get tattoed , teaches great lesson..
And know that, scars on you, proves that you are stronger than yesterday..
igc Jul 2021
There’s something about the bleeding of
a pen through paper and on to
the other side
It gives me
a sense of permanency
Trying hard to stay put
it bleeds for its home

A mother hoping so much
to hold on. Leaves a
mark on their children
A tattoo of trauma
Leaves a mark on your

A love so sweet it’s tattoo
permanent mark my skin
with your presence on my
shoulder; permanent
A hope so sweet, I hope it’s

Bleed through my skin, leave a
splotch like pen to a paper
marking home reminding
you of its permanence
Harley Hucof Apr 2021
I am gazing at a shining portrait as my desire is announced by distant bell chimes. I merge with the paint and feel absorbed into a different timeline.

In the painting, the wind carries a scent of a familiar tree assorted with the melody of its leaves. It all brings back the memory of a song that I love, that reminds me of a woman I met in a vision from a dream yet I don't know the language it is made of, nor I can sing it for I am dyslexic in the ear.

This is an illusion, I see it. Still, I deem it to be real, similar to a scene that I keep reliving as I wander the mystical golden desert, I wonder is fulfillment an insult or a compliment if attained outside the ordinary strains of sensual accomplishments?
Disconcerted by previous arrangements i think it through to realize this is an illusion is just a tattoo .

Words Of Harfouchism
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