"appearance" poems
Draining life to fill it with
watered-down pain, can he feel now? If my teeth make
an appearance, you'll be given your fix of my 'happiness,'
injected through your cranium. I wish I could navigate my
naive wishes, as I'm sinking in my pillows, and the light on
the ceiling is winking at me as I'm patched up, written in 'unhappy'
My uncanny doubts are fancying a feathery gift of sleep,
unlike this fascination with
falling feet to my death of dreams-
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
There came a time in the history of Nigeria when she dreamed for independence,
There came a moment in the history of Nigeria when she groaned to gain freedom from the British;
There came a season in the history of Nigeria when she desired to obtain independence from her rulers.
The moment when she groaned for independence,
The season when she was ready to groam freedom;
The moment when she desired to be independent as a country.
The moment when she seeked her elites to stand up and fight for independence,
The season when she awaited the voice and appearance of her freedom fighters;
The moment whe she believed that independence was ready to answer the call of nature in her country.
The moment when she believed to find freedom and independence which as that missing part of her that made her a complete country,
The season when she trusted and believed in the treasure called independence;
The moment when she hoped and desired to be called an independent and sovereign nation in the history of the world.
The moment when she was expectantant of the mother called independence,
The season when nothing meant anything to her except for the father called freedom;
The moment when she still believe to be an independent country despite foreign exploitations,
with the understanding that she could still stand up on her feet as an independent country.
She believed that someone who understands her tears and passion for freedom and independence,
will arise and fight for her freedom knowing that he will never bear to see her travail in birth for independence.
The elites she knew not but believed was out some where fortiing and preparing themselves for independence and fight for freedom.
Independence she waited for like an expectand mother of a child,
Each step she took was believed to bring her closer to freedom and independence.
She believed in freedom and independence for her country and it's occupants, and not
colonisation and exploitation from the British colony.
She believed in fighting for freedom and independence than dying a coward,
She believed in her elites efforts to obtain her independence and sovereignty.
She expected her elites to stand up and rage for independence to freedom and sovereignty,
which they did when the opportunity and strategy came for them to uphold.
She believed that destiny will bring her independence and freedom,
when the hour of liberation from exploitation comes.
She believed that her pains and heart beat was felt and understood by her elites.
The name independence she was passionate about and the fame freedom she was desperate about.
The memories of colonisation she groaned to erase and the histories of exploitation she desired to filtrate.
The name independence she struggled to uphold and the gain freedom she strived to unfold.
Before her moment of independence,
she strived to make full proof of her countrie's ambitions,
she sort self asset and not self liability.
She seeked and desired independence and freedom from exploitaion which she got.
Her dignity and hour as a country was restored on that fateful day of October 1, 1960 whe she gained and famed her independence and freedom.
She believed in independence and freedom which she got.
The death of her elites and freedom fighters was never in vain.
This is Nigeria At 53 and she is still a sovereign and independent country.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 4:28 AM UTC
Like a thousand nights before I'll sit here
with music in my ears.
Thinking of you, what could have been...
What should have been?
No, if it should've than it would've but it wasn't, so **** it.
But I can pretend.
I can imagine,
I can dream.
My thoughts drift away and suddenly I'm someone else
in a land far away, living a different life.
Slowly events unfold of stories untold
and I'm lost living a life inside.
Behind my eyes I've lived hundreds of lives
with no one to judge me but myself.
Yet you're here to make another appearance.
No matter how far I run,
I just can't get away.
So, here we are again.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
Every day we pass thousands of people on the street, and barely even a hello is exchanged, maybe a smile if your lucky.
It might be a little funny to think that each of these people are going wherever they are going, they are living their lives and you have the opportunity to be apart of it even if it's just five seconds.
You can do a lot with five seconds, for all you know a quick smile to someone passing by might change their life.
Despite someone's appearance, they could be a completely different person that you might expect, breaking the stereotype.
The sweet old women sitting next to you on the train, smiling and talking as if the world was heaven, is counting her numbered days. The coloured man across from you with the bloodied knuckles and bruised face saved a teenage girl from being ***** last night.
The 18-year-old girl on the other side of the train, showing more skin than clothing in a ******
And the boy in the corner covered in tattoos and piercings and is wearing only black is on his way to the hospital to read to the children in the cancer wing like he does every afternoon ever since he lost his little sister.
My point is simple, nothing is rarely as it seems. Each stranger you pass has there own story. Don't judge based off what you see because your vision is a misconception.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
The complexity of something simple in appearance. the attractiveness of something true in its deepest form. Beauty.
-Bobbie Leigh
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 1:49 PM UTC
I saw you looking in the mirror again today
You can’t seem to go past one
Without taking a second glance
Your own image seems to impress you
As if you were really in love
With the one staring back at you
You never seem to notice me
Watching you as you pass the mirror
And you seem almost a narcissist to me
Who only sees how you prance and primp
Staring long and hard at your appearance
I don’t believe I’ve ever seen
Another look so long or endearingly
Into that looking glass where we all see
Ourselves staring back at us
Could it only be me or are you actually
In love with what you see
Looking back from your reflection
And it is a little troubling to me
When I see you speak to yourself
Long moans of yearning
Puppy, I know you long to believe
That puppy in the mirror
Is your brother or sister!
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
A single dandelion seed could turn a desert into a beautiful garden, all it needs is someone to love it and look after it ~
Because the love of light is for all to bear, it is embracing, warm and gentle, life grows out of it to rejoice it's wonderful unique touch.
Seeing the desert one should note, that light can be cruel and harsh, scorching in heat while only trying to do what's right,
Leaving behind an almost lifeless part, it becomes the kiss of death,
In the end you get lost, blinded the luminousity which was once a gift
And by the night when it covers, you lost all fear of darkness,
It already became part of what you were anyway, you didn't belong,
Without turning your back you simply let the darkness consume you,
Yet don't you see, that the nights somber appearance holds the glory of crystal starlight; a river of countless of them form the milky way,
Perhaps you are but a blossoming flower, only blooming to the kindled brightness of tonights moon, dim, yet also filled with awe,
The love of light is for all to bear, but don't overdose yourself with it,
Otherwise, it will burn you up before it leaves you rotting.
~ Umi
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
The Insecurities are flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind—
But the weeds keep growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
—Thoughts of a young child never knowing what to believe.
I lie awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling.
If only the notion could suffice in finding the words—
For the void I'm feeling in my life,
But it isn't simple.
Pure corruption of my mind,
Perfect pictures,
Flawless figures,
The images I can't erase.
Uncomfortable in my own skin—
What do I do to feel safe?
Do I drown myself in ink—to cover up the imperfections?
Instead of talking—walk and let my skin scream the self-expression?
Or do I return to the blank stare in the mirror?
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?
The insecurities keep flourishing.
A gorgeous garden was my mind,
But the weeds kept growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
Thoughts of a young child,
--Never knowing what to believe.
One night as I lie awake—I hear my subconscious scream out to me.
The most attractive people do the ugliest of things,
The true beauty you want is what’s imprisoned within.
Why stop your happiness to return to a place—
—A place where you feel so alone?
Why do the tears flow?
You're killing yourself—
And you fail to realize
Your own self-doubt is the knife!
Pessimism,
The negative thoughts building inside—
They’re just as bad as the razorblade that kisses your skin as you sit in silence...
Why are you hurting yourself?
Temporary pain is only a distraction,
You were blessed and shaped by the hands of God.
What more could you possibly ask for?
Appearance is not everything.—
Stop the self-consciousness and live your life.
—acknowledge that you —are your worst —enemy...
I open my eyes.
The cries have ceased,
I return to the blank stare in the mirror.
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?
But it’s different this time,
My reflection speaks.
Saying no—
Who are you not to?
Your imperfections are beautiful.
Beautiful enough for the heart that is meant to love you,
Believe in yourself.
No more self doubt,
No more lost soul.
—No more insecurities flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind.
No more weeds keep growing in,
Media is not my kryptonite,
No more weakening of my self esteem,
Thoughts of a young child finally unshackled —and free.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
discrimination is within.....
us all i'm sad to say
black, short, tall,or ginger
rich, poor, bald or gay
judgemental in appearance
is human nature true
before you make your mind up
take a look at you
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
One of my favorite animals is a giraffe.
They're so awkward and lanky,
yet despite their strange appearance
there is a a grace in there gallivant;
there is a beauty to their mien.
They don't flaunt their attributes
or covet the patterns of their wildlife peers
because they have been graced with the privilege
to indulge in the secrets whispered by the leaves
amongst the tree tops.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Hello there to the greatest girl
Everything about you sends my mind for a whirl
I bet you weren’t expecting that rhyme
I hope it won’t be considered a crime (excellent vocab)
Well I hope you enjoy every poem I write for you
bringing you great joy and happiness is what i strive to do
I believe the girl that is the best of the best
deserved to be treated like a princess
Jillian, you are my loving princess, so beautiful and kind
you are better than all them disney princesses combined
It would be as if we were on a magic carpet ride,
I will always want you by my side
Now wouldn’t it be pretty cute
If i just keep making these lines
with the disney princesses as the root?
I think it would be, so lets
As the prince was so determined to find
the beautiful girl that had left her shoe
As am i equally determined
to bring joy to the equivalently beautiful that is you
As the girl that swam like a fish under the sea
sacrificed so much so she could be with her love
As I am just as prepared to make sacrifices
for it to always be you and me
As the love that a man and a woman had was forbidden
yet they did not listen to what others said
As will i love you
No matter what anyone else says
As the beautiful girl and the beast of a man,
did not care about appearance and became together
For she took the time to get to know how great he truly was,
As you did with me.
This i will thank and treasure forever.
As the girl with the flowing blonde hair
and the thief that at first didn’t care,
came together to make an adorable couple,
Well, honestly I just wanted to compare her hair to your hair, they are both FABULOUUUUUUS
So you see Jillian,
I think the world of you.
I know i didn’t get sleeping beauty or snow white,
I just don’t believe you’d be put to sleep or poisoned with fruit.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
He was the Gentle Giant,
His voice was like soft thunder.
His Hands, strong enough to lift up the fallen,
Yet gentle enough to hold the smallest child.
He was the Gentle Giant,
His children were yours and mine.
He towered over them with great height,
And cast a shadow of deep love.
He was the Gentle Giant,
His face chiseled from stone,
His outward appearance intimidating,
But his heart was molded from pure gold.
He was the Gentle Giant,
And sometimes giants fall,
But in his wake he left
Waves of love to last for generations.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
it wasn’t chaotic.
it was calm and serene,
like the ocean.
the soft pitter patter
of the rain on the roof,
and the cool air it brought.
it was a sip
of freshly brewed coffee,
natural with no additives,
whatsoever.
the gut feeling
of knowing where home was.
and that is how
you came into my life.
the star that shines the brightest
amongst the pitch black sky.
it’s the white cloud that outshines
all the gray and gloomy ones.
the perfect fit of the last piece
to the unfinished puzzle.
it's the warm, fuzzy feeling
of getting into bed
early on a Friday night.
and that is how it was
when I started loving you.
it’s like a deeply cut wound,
one that’s inundating
with crimson colored blood,
having a tinge of maroon.
it induces pain
with every inbreathe
and exhalation.
it manages to have
the appearance of a scar,
yet it still feels so fresh
like a bruise.
and that is how it felt
when you left.
it was filled with haze
and suffocation.
the uncontrollable fast paced beat
of your heart.
Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile,
one that is hardly understood
by majority of the world.
a bite of dark chocolate,
bitter and sweet.
and this is my survival.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
Bright appearance
Blue eyes
All those little lies
Treating me like nothing
Sometimes there
Acting like you care
Maybe you do
I know you’re not here anymore
And with that let me say
I no longer mourn
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
Depression is smeared makeup mixed with tears
Depression is giving up on makeup and your appearance altogether
Depression is hiding behind a painted on smile that masks how you truly feel
Depression is losing the ability to love yourself, and then losing yourself
Depression is what takes over your heart, life and mind
Depression is being alone at 4 am and the only friend you have is the sharp silver thing hidden away from prying eyes
Depression is the satisfaction as the water becomes slowly tinted with crimson
Depression is the the darkness of your heart and the ruby red life leaking out of your wrist swirling together
Depression is wondering why your life has to be covered with the cloud of blackness
Depression is trying to hold on to that last bit of hope when you know, deep down, that there is none left
Depression is hiding in the bathroom and crying for no reason
Depression is feeling helpless when they take your blades and you resort to any form of pain you can get
Depression is needing that tangible feeling, because this **** isn't gonna just stay in your mind
Depression is feeling like everything is against you
Depression is feeling like nothing
Depression is feeling nothing
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
Lovebirds
An old man sat with patience
On the bench he waited for her
He smiled sweetly on her appearance
Hand in hand they walked together.
In the garden full of greens
The lovebirds chatted with laughter
As if they were in movie scenes
The way they looked at each other.
He stroke her hair gently
Her hair clip he'd bought years ago
Still intact she placed it neatly
That is the little pink flamingo.
Pleasant breeze they enjoyed
As they continued walking
Her fragile nature shivered
In her thin floral dress clothing.
He took off his outer layer shirt
Naturally putting it on her shoulders
She joked about wearing a skirt
He thought she was full of wonders.
He recalled her bravery
She reminisced his sacrifices
They've come far in life's journey
Counting their little happiness.
As I watched from a distance
I felt a pinch of sweet jealousy
Witnessing true love's existence
Yet wishing them to stay as lovely.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
I need positivity like a sunflower needs the sun
So what do I do when I'm given none?
I'm fed poison and breathe out joy
Bringing life through photosynthesis
Using my outward appearance to make people smile
But I'm cut at the stem
To be given to some much more special than I
And slowly start to rot
I'm given as a gift
Once I wither away and my fresh scent is gone
They throw me away and keep moving on
No one thinks about the sunflowers
Until they're gone.
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
People don't see you
People see your face
People see your body
I see your heart
I see your mind
I see you
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes
I wish I could make you see what I do
Because what's inside
Your heart
Your mind
Your soul
That all shine through to me
They are what make you radiant
Not your outward appearance
Your inner beauty is all I see
I love you for who you are
Not what everyone else sees
But what I see
So yes
You are beautiful
But, no
I don't love you because you are beautiful
You are beautiful because I love you
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 3:06 AM UTC
*Tulu-e-Subah Tere Rukh Ki Baat Hone Lagi
Tumhari Zulf Jo Bikhri Toh Raat Hone Lagi
Tumhari Mast Nazar Ka Khumaar Kya Kehna
Nashe Mein Garq Sabhi Kayanaat Hone Lagi*
**Rise of morning and debate of your appearance begun
Then your tresses scattered and the night begun
Intoxication of your enchanting eyes – what can we say!
O’ in drunkenness, sinking of whole world begun**
— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Who cares about someone's
appearance?
They may be ugly
but it's not about the
appearance
It's about what lies within
them what makes you beautiful
in the inside makes
you beautiful on the outside...
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.
Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!
I hear her great heart purr.
From her lips ampersands and percent signs
Exit like kisses.
It is Monday in her mind: morals
Launder and present themselves.
What am I to make of these contradictions?
I wear white cuffs, I bow.
Is this love then, this red material
Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?
It will make little dresses and coats,
It will cover a dynasty.
How her body opens and shuts --
A Swiss watch, jeweled in the hinges!
O heart, such disorganization!
The stars are flashing like terrible numerals.
ABC, her eyelids say.
11k
We All have Flaws,
Stubby nose,
Bushy Brows,
Crooked smile,
Whichever it maybe
But those are the types of things
That make us UNIQUE,
The details to our grand design,
"There is no one like Me"
Take pride in that,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
To prejudge based off of one's appearance,
Now that is what you call UGLY
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
Society is so focused on being flawless. Perfect. No one is flawless, not even Beyonce. We will forget who we are on the inside, and soon that won’t even matter because the physical appearance is the main priority. Women these days are spending so much effort trying to look perfect, which hurts. Pretty hurts. Society is expecting women to look perfect, otherwise people will judge. ‘Perfection is a disease of a nation’. The showbiz industry is giving a negative message to the world. Photoshop is one of them. Making a celebrity look flawless is fooling the world into thinking we must look like that. Spending so much money on clothes, hair etc. but we don’t need to focus on that because all that matters is on the inside, which most people don’t seem to see anymore. We are constantly getting the messages in our mind that we must be flawless, and sooner or later, this is a disease. Some of us can’t take it anymore, which leads to anorexia, bulimia, insecurities, and issues with body image. Pain also takes over our minds, which is ridiculous. Even celebrities have gone through this because in our naïve little minds, we are thinking we have to be pretty. There is so much pressure it takes over our minds, and that’s the only thing we think about. We look into the mirror despising ourselves, because we are who we are. Society has created us into thinking there’s a certain way we must look, which there is not. Our flaws make us who we are, makes us positively different. Unique. But we aren’t allowed to think that way because the media isn’t allowing us to. When people change, they are only cheating on themselves because media displays images of what we should and shouldn’t look like. It’s not their fault though. They can’t help it. Changing, like getting botox or body implant is only giving us a masquerade. It’s a mask to hide our real, inner beauty, which the media has taken the idea away from us, to become people who we actually aren’t.
And in the end, we know that pretty hurts.
a.a.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
you are tomato soup
acidic
and creamy.
your path is marked
by risen temperature in my esophagus.
your path is parallel to my spine.
and you rest in the warm vats of my stomach
but you are warmer still.
no real need for digestion.
you are but orange liquid.
but sometimes you burn
tttttttttsa on my tongue
your steam-less appearance fooled me;
there is no need for cooling
hot hot tomato soup.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC