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#ugliness
My young niece,  she used sing in the church choir But when she grew older she left the choir She got her nose pierced,  became a Vegan and Social Justice warrior Now it was all about the planet and everything having to be done a certain way ...or else LoL When she'd come to visit, she used complain Your house Uncle it's s so cluttered, all these little nick nacks and ornaments you have and all these books You should get rid of half this stuff, bring it all down to the charity shop I looked at her and said, said quite mysteriously "My world... my world is not your world" I picked up an ornament and said "This world has a lot of ugliness in it, these things remind me that there's beauty too ' I pointed at the books up on the shelves "I can tell you why I bought every one of those books, what they meant to me I can tell you what I was going through at the time... And how they helped keep me sane in this... this crazy world" Then my niece she picked up a book, it was a children's book with pictures in it You probably won't need this one she said, it's only a kid's book I looked at her in horror, then suddenly said real dramatic like "Stop! Don't move!! Stay very very still!" What's wrong ! she said a bit concerned "That book you're holding, it's... it's God !!" What!! she said "There's a picture of God in that book...or the God experience, the spiritual thing That's why I bought it" She looked a bit lost, even afraid I smiled at her bewilderment and continued When I was younger I used suffer from anxiety and from ideas that made no sense to me...I was plagued  I got interested in meditation and self hypnosis various relaxation techniques Quietening the mind, that sort of thing I managed to train my mind to stay quiet for very long periods It's a very hard thing to do but it is possible One night I went to bed, I was lying there with my eyes closed when suddenly this strange feeling came over me It was like something was happening, happening in my head, it was like there was suddenly something coming down upon me And then... then I seen it even though my eyes they were closed I seen...something I hadn't seen since I was a little child, an infant in my cot some thirty years before I was...I was astonished And I remembered... I could still remember There were several stages in it and you'd pass from one stage into the next I got so excited I thought to myself "I remember this!  I remember this!!! I used to get this when I was very young" I was so excited I only managed to get through several of the stages before I opened my eyes I pulled out of it because I was just blown away by the whole experience...at seeing it again  (after all those years) I lay there amazed at what I'd just seen" Here I stopped and looked away rather sadly into the distance "Unfortunately though around that time I'd also recently bought a book on Positive thinking, a bestseller, one that was very highly regarded For some reason I can't think of now I chose to go with the Positive thinking book Rather than to continue with my quiet mind meditation thing Yea, I chose something from the world rather than that which I'd found within my own self...something that was wholly mine It's something... something I've always regretted ... not continuing with my quiet mind meditation One day a few years later I was in a bookshop browsing I was looking in the bargain bin And I seen that book, I was looking at the pictures And there was this one picture that fascinated me It reminded me of my experience that night I had to buy it because of that". I looked at my niece and said   "In that book there's pictures, look through the pictures, take your time Pick out the picture which you find the most interesting, the most fascinating ...the one that seems to speak to you the most When you've made your choice, close the book and give it back to me But don't tell me which picture you've chosen Then I'll open the book and I'll show you yes!,  I'll show you the picture you've chosen ". My niece said "OK" as if it were a challenge, she went away with the book, about half an hour later she came up to me I asked her "Was there a picture that...that spoke to you, that you...you liked" "There was...there was one yea, one that was very strange ", she answered She handed the book back to me I opened it and turned to the page which reminded me of my meditative experience I turned the book around and pointing at the picture said "This is the picture you chose, isn't it" My niece she smiled looking very surprised, as if it were some kind of trick  "How did you know...how did you know I'd pick that picture" I replied "You're young, maybe you too still have a remembrance hidden somewhere...a memory...of that special time....long ago".
0
Apr 9, 2025
Apr 9, 2025 at 11:56 AM UTC
God in the bargain bin
My young niece,  she used sing in the church choir But when she grew older she left the choir She got her nose pierced,  became a Vegan and Social Justice warrior Now it was all about the planet and everything having to be done a certain way ...or else LoL When she'd come to visit, she used complain Your house Uncle it's s so cluttered, all these little nick nacks and ornaments you have and all these books You should get rid of half this stuff, bring it all down to the charity shop I looked at her and said, said quite mysteriously "My world... my world is not your world" I picked up an ornament and said "This world has a lot of ugliness in it, these things remind me that there's beauty too ' I pointed at the books up on the shelves "I can tell you why I bought every one of those books, what they meant to me I can tell you what I was going through at the time... And how they helped keep me sane in this... this crazy world" Then my niece she picked up a book, it was a children's book with pictures in it You probably won't need this one she said, it's only a kid's book I looked at her in horror, then suddenly said real dramatic like "Stop! Don't move!! Stay very very still!" What's wrong ! she said a bit concerned "That book you're holding, it's... it's God !!" What!! she said "There's a picture of God in that book...or the God experience, the spiritual thing That's why I bought it" She looked a bit lost, even afraid I smiled at her bewilderment and continued When I was younger I used suffer from anxiety and from ideas that made no sense to me...I was plagued  I got interested in meditation and self hypnosis various relaxation techniques Quietening the mind, that sort of thing I managed to train my mind to stay quiet for very long periods It's a very hard thing to do but it is possible One night I went to bed, I was lying there with my eyes closed when suddenly this strange feeling came over me It was like something was happening, happening in my head, it was like there was suddenly something coming down upon me And then... then I seen it even though my eyes they were closed I seen...something I hadn't seen since I was a little child, an infant in my cot some thirty years before I was...I was astonished And I remembered... I could still remember There were several stages in it and you'd pass from one stage into the next I got so excited I thought to myself "I remember this!  I remember this!!! I used to get this when I was very young" I was so excited I only managed to get through several of the stages before I opened my eyes I pulled out of it because I was just blown away by the whole experience...at seeing it again  (after all those years) I lay there amazed at what I'd just seen" Here I stopped and looked away rather sadly into the distance "Unfortunately though around that time I'd also recently bought a book on Positive thinking, a bestseller, one that was very highly regarded For some reason I can't think of now I chose to go with the Positive thinking book Rather than to continue with my quiet mind meditation thing Yea, I chose something from the world rather than that which I'd found within my own self...something that was wholly mine It's something... something I've always regretted ... not continuing with my quiet mind meditation One day a few years later I was in a bookshop browsing I was looking in the bargain bin And I seen that book, I was looking at the pictures And there was this one picture that fascinated me It reminded me of my experience that night I had to buy it because of that". I looked at my niece and said   "In that book there's pictures, look through the pictures, take your time Pick out the picture which you find the most interesting, the most fascinating ...the one that seems to speak to you the most When you've made your choice, close the book and give it back to me But don't tell me which picture you've chosen Then I'll open the book and I'll show you yes!,  I'll show you the picture you've chosen ". My niece said "OK" as if it were a challenge, she went away with the book, about half an hour later she came up to me I asked her "Was there a picture that...that spoke to you, that you...you liked" "There was...there was one yea, one that was very strange ", she answered She handed the book back to me I opened it and turned to the page which reminded me of my meditative experience I turned the book around and pointing at the picture said "This is the picture you chose, isn't it" My niece she smiled looking very surprised, as if it were some kind of trick  "How did you know...how did you know I'd pick that picture" I replied "You're young, maybe you too still have a remembrance hidden somewhere...a memory...of that special time....long ago".
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67
Baby's breath kisses the merlot tide of disease, A brindled sea holds the white orchid of blanched dittany's. Moonflowers scintillate with each cradle of dusk, While Stars marl the sky, veiling over in cosmic musk. During quietude, swans tread the ichor in a pearlesque flotilla, The poison ripples beneath them as they thread between silk lilies and ivory scilla. The gore strewn water continues to fester with pulsating, ripe, bile, Despite all, the huddle of infancy will remain ever fertile.
0
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 9:31 AM UTC
Fruitful decay
No, the poet is not always the bringer of light! he can also bring darkness, hatred, and pain. he can sing of evil and ugliness. the poet knows how to squeeze out tears and smear blood into your eyes. from his nails, claws can grow and from his teeth, fangs. on his forehead, horns he could place if ever needed. No, the poet is not necessarily dressed in white garments. he can pass through naked and laugh madly in hysterics! and if you strike him, he will not always turn the other cheek. No, the poet is no angel! he is a wound—always bleeding— on the sick heart of the World and the sleepless eye on Its forehead, the unforeseen eye.
0
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 2:53 PM UTC
No! The Poet
Peer into my heart, you'll find No crocodilian despair, No wish to rise on whisp'ring wings, Nor need to greater things to earn compare. Tear away my skin, you'll see That ***** of the very least import, Is yet a clever mask for all my sins, True ugliness no beauty can contort. Gaze deeply, you may see into my soul. Torn, battered, wanting as it be. But quickly look away, lest you may find, That parts of you exist in parts of me.
0
Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 7:09 AM UTC
Familiar Demons
I Whether inner or outer, the matter is naught Many sought after what cannot be bought Though heart and mind is where it all lies An impeccable vision beyond your mere eyes.    The signature mark of human kind Dream and reality all intertwined Cold as ice, hot as raw fire Grand aesthetic for all to admire – Seldom achieved, unable to build Quenches all thirst, all hungers fulfilled With all imperfections, itself so flawless Rules are negated; thus, it remains lawless Greatest of weapons bound by no defence For it may be subtle, yet so intense Partnered with love, a potent ideal Beauty will call, no need to conceal. II Silence lay steadily against the barren walls Aging wood, icy stone An empty carcass rotting away Unable to feel or be felt                         Allowing nothing in or out Though a poison seeps within its walls Changing it, from what it was once before Now wearing a mask as if to disguise,                    The unseen horrors lurking inside Goblins and ghouls are the least of your worry For what lies inside is far more heinous Beauty’s opposition, readily awaits No longer a guise hiding the truth - Reality is met with eager eyes A stammering figure soundlessly screaming   Hauling chains and a mirror of lies, Though not evil, a choice in itself                    Ugliness within can often be mended.
0
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 4:44 PM UTC
The Two Faces of Janus
Every time I look at my mirror; I can't clearly see myself. I can only see a vague figure. Every time I look at other people's mirror; I can clearly see myself. Yes, I can see myself. I can see an ugly person with lots of scar. And because of those scars; I can't become a star. And because I can't become a star; I want to forget myself. And maybe that's the reason why I can't clearly see myself in my mirror.
0
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 7:23 AM UTC
Mirror
Slit the veins of truth, see all of our ugliness spill from this society. That stole my youth, as darkness hit my eyes with fear and anxiety. Please end all of this grief and let's show loveliness, maybe live in coalescence. Our lives are rather brief so can't we all be allies, Isn't love life's essence?
0
Jun 5, 2020
Jun 5, 2020 at 3:54 PM UTC
Essence of Life
Another sunset spans the sky Deserting its view of shambled streets, Fleeing the dark silhouettes and wires pierced high. On feathered wings it fades and bids good-bye. What a reminder is sent to us each day, As sweeping clouds look down before dying, That beyond this desolation, they still will stay; No human form can stop their flying. The eye is jarred by every scene, In which the darkening hulks arise, And yet are conquered by the sky, it seems; We are left to dwell below; to guard this prize. Who, staring aloft, would never desire, To rise up and dwell among the splendor, Rather than stay below in tangled squalor? Yet we must be content with remembered fire. (Not finished)
0
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 2:36 PM UTC
Heaven, Above and Below
Once there was a jungle Every creature great & small Was given special gifts there God, he gave them ALL. He gave monkeys humor He gave gazelles grace But the peacock was quite special He gave HIM the fairest face! Now, as with all great blessings This one had a curse The peacock... quite spectacular! But he had an ugly VOICE! Peacock screeched displeasure! He spread his tail... and then... He saw his greatest curse of all His VERY plain PEAHEN!!
0
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 6:16 AM UTC
Peacock Tales
I find your gorgeous face quite bright and sweet, Like stars or angels soft; to eyes loved pleasures, Because the eye adores the ones who're neat, Comparing it in poetry to treasures. Your shapely stature's tall, to me breathtaking, Like waves excited is my yearning heart, And to see you with others is heartbreaking, My object of admiration, each part. The world has seen so many girls like you, Dressed in elegance, shaped as flowing fires, Although it's known, it seems so fresh and new, The scintillating source of most desires. But still your temperament is quite ugly, If only pretty eyes of you could see.
0
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 4:13 AM UTC
Pretty Ugliness
When I attack she feels it Feels it so well that she doesn't smile again She closes herself off from those so called friends She doesn't give her eyes a chance to twinkle And even though she really wants to she doesn't laugh I wont let her I will be there when she tries Ready to remind her of the ugliness that surrounds those dull brown eyes I will be there when she wants to smile Ready to fill her up with thoughts that surpass vile I will always be there Ready to invade her body and mind Ready to show her that her life is also mine She will not laugh, or smile Because I will not let her She is mine
0
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Waiting Pt.2
not only is beauty supposedly in the eye of the beholder, it also reportedly emerges from an intangible depth within okay, then, so that means ugliness comes similarly from within, or doesn't it, baby? so then, ugliness must begin and end in the pit of your stomach, and in the words that pass the tongue on the exit from your ugly mouth so then, ugliness must begin and end in the nerves buried in sleeves, and in the actions that slip the heart sneaking past the brain, and vice versa. on the grab from your dead hands. on the grab from your dead hands. not only does it tend to work unlike the excitable pretend it works, the implication is, that half of your worthiness is linked to the mercy of the mass effect. as for a thought, a dream, an intent, an outcome, a vision, a nightmare, a hermit knows the good folk permit attractiveness to good lines.
0
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
(lost sessions) pithy party
She looks in the mirror and sees a mistake, a broken girl with no direction, a girl who does not deserve love or happiness, no way to cover the ugliness. She hates her personality, she hates her face, she hates all the things that she cannot change. She wishes that everything she saw in the mirror would simply fade away. I looked at her with only admiration for the beauty I saw in her soul. She was perfect in my eyes. She was everything I could never be. I loved her with everything that I am, but I was nothing compared to the truth in the mirror.
0
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
In My Eyes
I feel ugly. Like, the dark spots on a full moon. The burning skin under the crisp sun. The harsh stain of vibrant colours on a canvas. The violent shade of the monsoon cloud. The rustic smell of an old key. The sad wrinkles on a tree trunk. The tired stretch marks on a shabby body. Or, the birth of a life. I feel less. I feel pigmented. I feel lost. I feel strange. This is my beauty to taste. To embrace.
0
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
And then beauty intervened.
/ picked an iris from the garden / took a hacksaw to the petals / when i could have just picked them apart / \ which garden? \ only one of its kind \ a blemish in the desert, a stubborn breakout of petulant colour \ under schrodinger's sun \ model's smiles so ugly betwixt the natural verdure \ i tell them this \ to save myself from perceived slights \ and she does, indeed, look slight \ / the word "help" drawn in the sand / the rusting handle of the shovel burning hands / as i hack at stems swaying nonchalant / in the stinging wind / \ from left \ to right / then left \ then right / before bleeding out on the flat palm of the tool - \ a wren \ tar-black \ perches on a nearby tree \ shakes the dust off a wing \ and casts a shadow across our little oasis \ before opening its beak to song \ dragging more people into the dark will not help you find the light switch \ and other assorted platitudes \ / so the model walks out into the desert / i follow / dragging her garden along / it's wrapped around my ankles / oh the irony in losing blood to the vines tightening / dragging across hot sand / and eventually it's all too heavy / so i collapse / breathing in the arid ground / skin turns as red as a bull's nightmare landscape / yet she continues to walk / as if nothing happened / is it the heat that leaves me melting away? / or the guilt? / in any case / i got caught in the trap i set for her / eyes close / and she is leaving...                                                                                    leaving...                                                                                       leaving...                                                                                                               left.
0
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
yesterday i was born and today i am jaded
/ picked an iris from the garden / took a hacksaw to the petals / when i could have just picked them apart / \ which garden? \ only one of its kind \ a blemish in the desert, a stubborn breakout of petulant colour \ under schrodinger's sun \ model's smiles so ugly betwixt the natural verdure \ i tell them this \ to save myself from perceived slights \ and she does, indeed, look slight \ / the word "help" drawn in the sand / the rusting handle of the shovel burning hands / as i hack at stems swaying nonchalant / in the stinging wind / \ from left \ to right / then left \ then right / before bleeding out on the flat palm of the tool - \ a wren \ tar-black \ perches on a nearby tree \ shakes the dust off a wing \ and casts a shadow across our little oasis \ before opening its beak to song \ dragging more people into the dark will not help you find the light switch \ and other assorted platitudes \ / so the model walks out into the desert / i follow / dragging her garden along / it's wrapped around my ankles / oh the irony in losing blood to the vines tightening / dragging across hot sand / and eventually it's all too heavy / so i collapse / breathing in the arid ground / skin turns as red as a bull's nightmare landscape / yet she continues to walk / as if nothing happened / is it the heat that leaves me melting away? / or the guilt? / in any case / i got caught in the trap i set for her / eyes close / and she is leaving...                                                                                    leaving...                                                                                       leaving...                                                                                                               left.
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9
I know a girl that piles on the necklaces “Makes me look pretty,” she says She’s all nervous, high-pitched laughter that jangles as she fidgets with her armored collarbones Rose red rashes bloom around ivory flesh, She scratches at her skin inflamed Ring ring ring around her pretty little neck With those posey necklaces and gemstones She smiles fondly at each reflection of chains and rocks entangled Wrung wrung wrung of beauty is she Bitten so fiercely to her ivory bones Her laughter hacks into little cough spurts, and the metal winks dully as it strangles Ring ring ring around her rosy little neck-- she piles on more necklaces.
0
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 1:31 AM UTC
Rosie
“You are ugly,” an ugly comment posted by an ugly man I know “You won’t get married, alas” The ugliness deep in his heart must be greater than mine I know I continue to type on my keyboard, not responding to the man at all. Simply ignoring his presence as a stranger is insignificant to me “You will be single for your whole life” I know I rather people love me for my personality and all of my ***** flaws The rain continues to platter in the background, cleansing the ugliness Such as god have once promised to cleanse the earth by drowning us in the great flood The ***** emotion in my heart lightened And I resume my day without the stain of ugliness
0
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC
Ugliness