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Arthur Balmoral Dec 2020
That flesh’d vizard – does it decay,
So much alike the ******.
My mortal stature – emaciated –
Forthwith; it’s programmed.

Do those lines – like trenches deep –
Carve moats for tears to flow.
And do they flow – like rivers march
My countenance; fallowed.

To rejuvenate – vials and vials,
Ointments in plethora.
I rub and rub, till the vizard cracks
Lo! Restore my aura.

Pseudoscience, falsehoods galore –
A vice of fiscality.
Like a cyst, does it tremor,
Melting my vanity.

Visage – deep – a pick inside my soul.
Those flakes of ego crumb.
A mien so ******, yet so loved…
Can they not see how numb
                         I am.
Traveler Dec 2020
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
Traveler Tim
Nylee Oct 2020
I am so restricted to me
That I don't see the world around me
The universal sea
I am caccooned to a well
My well-being at that

I don't see the obvious
It does concern us
It is all dubious
Too hard to understand the truth
Till it is too late

Wait, I should do that
Hey, I can't help that
Well there is no end to my rant
Wait it is happening fast
Isn't it just great!

You know, you know
I know but I don't
It just doesn't show
Too caught up in me
I lose moments of my sanity
Losing on my vanity.
Ces Sep 2020
Reality is an empty blank (?)
Expanding, quivering
With its unimaginable scale
in light-years!
Gradually quickening its cosmic throbbing
Peppered with everything that dies
Galaxies
Stars
Planets
People

Obeying a thermodynamic process --
That tyrant among physical laws!
From which nothing is exempt
Even you and I.

Thus, human vanity:
A cosmic joke that fades to nothingness
All aspirations, ambitions
******* by entropy
Quashed to oblivion
All is dust.

And yet, humans toil to fulfill
a delusion
Their hope lies in their work
Their progress, their successes
Salvation!

Still, the universe expands...
Uncaring, disinterested
cold

Not minding the plight
of the human microbe.
Sungmoo Bae Aug 2020
Batteries of the skies;
booming thunders, and so are you.
You, the whirlwind the most ferocious,
befit such name ever notorious—

    ever in a strife of your own
    seemingly unending.

The whirlwind strikes hard
and fast, and as such; angels of death
descending, striking from the faint heavens
to accomplish its sole purpose, destructive in nature,

beseeching its everlasting glory
that’d evoke the sun’s jealousy, even.
Alas! You carry out the task
that spares none of the land,

taking away the dearest one from another, weeping,
flipping cars and engines from where they're standing,
while plucking out the road signs once robust
and even the trees once deemed so ancient—

none is spared but wrecked
before the might of the whirlwind
the total annihilation being its sole identity—
the one that destroys in the name of thy honor

    and in the very name of glory in vain.
    You look around—

only to see none has survived
or has been left alive; spectating
the empty earth and the water
while being dispersed, scattered amidst the air,

lifted by the hands of thy maker
disappearing—joining the void specters,
and thus befitting the word, truly,
the vainglory.
(C) Copyright: Saul Bae (Sungmoo Bae)
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
Captain
Is such an abrasive term
Call me zebra instead
Call me every other weekend
Salute the system
Or form a mutiny
As disciples of Moby ****
Just be sure rank and file
Are futile

Everything now is beautiful

Rainbirds
Caged in your barbed-wire heart
Jaded feather friends
In migration
Tasting shapes
And drawing blood
From artistic wings
As freedom of flyway must
Still belong to the rule

Everything now is beautiful

Hopscotch
On sorted sidewalks
Ride the escalator instead
Up one floor
To the mezzanine
That panders to
The perversions of quiet girls
Innocence outshines
Experience
When the hemisphere is
Short on lifeboats
And late for school

Everything now is beautiful

The missing world
Beneath our feet
Is what the ocean
Tells us about ourselves
"From swerve of shore
To bend of bay"
Check the notes
In the margin
Postcards and maps
Depicting these dazzle ships
And the angry waters
They chart
Are always of
Skinny-dipping
Sea vessels
Her mons and ponds
Face-up
And full frontal

Everything now is beautiful

Dove taking
Swan keeping
We've power against dreams
We've articles of war
So this line is expendable
An anguish languish
Deep deep down
Turning with the wave
Against the sound
Where we sailed on from one love
To find another
As usual

Omnes una manet nox
(One night is awaiting us all)
SEN Jun 2020
No more Polyfilla face
Behold the plain and naked
Made up in poor taste
Death mask and masquerade
Poor state of nature
Tarted up and raw

Fight the flaccid face
Tighten up the lines
Stretchmarks are stripes
Jowls hang and flap façade in crisis
Out flicks the knife
Smile for life with one slash

Round up the rings
Count up the crags
Callous with age
Horns on the hands
Petrified hags hard and rock like

Gnarled old bark
Woman tree wither
Roots left in ruins
Ends split and hairdo dead
All through and done for
Overblown and glory gone
rarae aves May 2020
To comfort me
You judge before you listen..
advise before you understand..
the rush to share
your challenges & success stories
because you’ve been through worse..
and now, you know it all.
So very admirable, no doubt!!
But wait.. you were here to comfort me,
not blow your own trumpet!
Moomin Apr 2020
Some people lead, and decide what we need, they are sure and decisive and proud
Others tag along, in a compliant throng, they have to be part of the crowd
But there are those who are staid, because they are afraid, of the prospect of being despised
And so they withdraw, behind a safe door, and live in the shade all their lives    

She's alone and so tense, when school days commence, enduring the chaos she sees
The object of jest, ignored by the best, chosen last in the sporting decrees
She knows she's no belle and the spots really tell, as she stoops low to appear less tall
They see freckles and glass, they see a clumsy outcast, and an unfashionable scruff at the ball

Yet, away from the crowd, she sings sweetly and loud, tends animals in her kind way
She is loyal and wise, and does not despise, those less fortunate and in dismay
She is zealous and funny, and her smile always sunny, and her failings she does not try to hide
And if they cared to pry, and look into her eyes, they would see she is beautiful inside

There was another young girl, whose flame was unfurled, when she became woman at first
From pain of the past, to smashed looking glass, and the thought of a small breasted curse
With the world she contended, those she loved, she offended, till their love was exhausted and spent
Once lost from its sight, she could not do right, and spiralled, and twisted and bent

Yet, some could recall, when she was still small, and eager and funny and sweet,
when she used to run, to please everyone, and joyfully cuddle and greet
For this girl was true, and genuine through, and barren of pretense and pride
Yet most could not see, that, always was she, so innocent and beautiful inside    

This lad is not strong, and he has never belonged, to a gang or a club or a team
For stammer and blush, are easily crushed, by the boys who are considered the cream  
No sport and no game, no President's name, but the task of retrieving the ball
Dismissed and derided, by those that decided, that a man should be seven feet tall

But his mind is a place, where wonders take place, and brilliance comes to the fore
Pouring out words, and music unfurled, which causes the spirit to soar
When he sings, he's not slow, and his closest ones know, that his rare gift cannot be denied                
Though hidden away from the world's selfish gaze, his voice is so beautiful inside

And another is she, a mother of three, who's fleeting love has long disappeared
Yet the blame she will take, and guilt she can't shake, as she pauses her dreams for some years
Mistakes, she has made, and her children will pay, and gratitude she is denied
And she must run with the crowd, and pretend she is proud, when she really is dying inside

Had they known her, before sadness occurred, they would have seen trust and a friend
Unselfish and wise, swift to empathize, and never would her principles bend  
For she would have shone, a rare companion, one that would stand by their side
Through danger and despair, she'd always be there, because she is so beautiful inside  

He now lives alone, since his beloved passed on, taking with her his passion and pride
He still rises at dawn, though his work is long gone, and his home is so cluttered inside    
He dreads stepping out, where the young taunters shout, of his baldness, his stoop and his skin
In a world that thinks age, is a lonely dark cage, where you go when you're ready to give in

Yet stored in his mind, is a library in kind, that holds so much wisdom and lore
He found joy, and true love, searched for God up above, knowing peace, yet enduring a war
A father, a son, a hero when young, supporting the poor and the tired
Once loved and adored, by many who saw, the man who is beautiful inside

When we think of our friends, and what drew us to them, was it their job, their hobbies, their smile?
Or the music they chose, their hair or their clothes, or was it something we could not define?
Because we need to be sure, it was something more pure, something worth the investment of you
Cos, Good looks don't mean kind, and pretty fades with time, but loyalty will always hold true

For a good sense of fashion doesn't breed compassion, and a hot date can often cause burns
Bravado is fleeting, and self-confidence self defeating, and sarcasm often returns
Do we want fun, and affairs on the run, or are we really looking for more?
If not, then dig deep, and be ready to weep, for calamity stands at your door

For, when all's said and done, we fear being alone, and we fight for the souls that we choose
Whether kindness or cruel, the wise or the fool, with them we will win or we lose
And hope  settles down, and wanders around, searching for one who'll be kind
So don't settle for less, but administer this test, and see if they are beautiful inside
In loving memory of my sweet niece, Toni, who took her own life
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