"applying" poems
We were born in different shapes, colors, and size
Not a single embryo was able to decide their DNA or blood type
But that shouldn't make us less humans than the others
It's the diversity that makes us exquisite and beautiful
Break down the stereotype that beauty is fair skin,
that beauty is a skinny and blonde-haired lady
that beauty is wearing clothes with branded labels
that beauty is applying tons of foundation and mascara
Who are we to determine the standard of beauty, anyway?
While each of us is God's creativity,
authentically made by His hands
Who are we to judge God's taste in art, anyway?
While each of us is uniquely magnificent,
as His creations are never less than a masterpiece
Keep in mind that the real beauty lies within ourselves,
beneath our skin, between our thoughts, and inside our soul
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 4:44 AM UTC
Recalling your name;
as each letter of your name
slips and slides off my tongue
the seductive visuals of
getting you off have begun
touching your venus fly trap
with my taste bud
making your goosebumps bud
until your river runs
and your floodgates flood.
Won’t even say your name
just sound it out -- until you are overcome.
Submit to my strength; of my passion
with my permission.
applying pressure;
until you are well-cum.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC
Anna,
the young lions won't want you
forever.
Eventually you are going to
get tired
of keeping it tight,
of batting your eyes,
of applying the gloss just right.
Anna,
what will you do when the invitation beds
come to an end?
Eventually the lions will settle,
while you gather cobweb and callus,
while you smoke cancer and wallow in cellulite.
Anna,
find a boy who makes you feel like the sun.
Ultimately,
he's the only one who can save your soul
from all the crimes you've done.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 10:14 PM UTC
I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
Attracted.
The fifteen year old server
Was kinda short;
The vanilla tub had about three scoops
Remaining,
Stacked hidden like frozen snow-balls
As in war games.
His task would have been daunting
And embarassing,
And I, a humanitarian
From higher education,
An altruist from St. Joseph's,
Could not allow it.
The chocolate tub
Was yet covered,
And the sobbing child's cries
Were hardening in my ears
As Dad tried to allay
His chocolate tears,
Applying the five second rule.
I am an empath
By nature and poetry,
So, turning from chocolate,
Left me strawberrry.
Triple scoop too.
I believe
You thought through
Your choices
Like flavors of ice-cream.
Being imaginative,
I do.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Mirror, mirror
I hate this person staring back at me
This is not the person I used to be
I’m hating my reflection
I wish I could see perfection
Mirror, mirror
I hate applying my mask
Hiding my flaws with makeup has become an everyday task
I hate feeling so fake
I think I just might break
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
Slipping stocking on silky smooth legs.
Wanting and yearning to turn people's heads.
Dressing up nice in a posh frock.
Knowing people will judge, people will mock.
Applying makeup like a pro,
But needing to keep the status quo.
Styling a wig to look like a girl.
Feeling the butterflies, head in a whirl.
Looking deep at the eyes reflected in the mirror.
Where is the man? can just see a glimmer.
Feeling for a moment that he does belong.
Takes a deep breath, tries to stay strong.
Feeling comfortable within his own skin.
Just slightly visible, hair growth on his chin.
He will not venture out as he's branded a freak.
But really he's normal, maybe a bit weak.
For if he goes out people think he is guy.
He's just like me and you at the end of the day.
Some think he's bisexuality, it's really unfair.
He's just heterosexual with a little more flare.
All he's ever wanted, is to be accepted.
In this current decade still is rejected.
If you gave him a chance you'd see he's real nice.
His heart is so warm, not cold as ice.
He loves with his heart, is caring and tender.
Look deep within, he is only transgender.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
I hate Science
I hate Technology
Neither Am I Orthodox
Nor I am Fool
I am not a *****
But still I choose to hate
Science and Technology
Both gave us many things
I remember, there was a time
I worshipped both of them
They produced machines for us
They produced robots for us
Machines started building
Homes, Bridges and Flyovers
Machines helped us in
Food and Cloth Production
Milk and Silk Production
And Blah Blah Blah Blah
They made our life easier
They made our life safer
They provided better security
They provided better tools
They made our life longer
They made our life smarter
They gave us rays of hope
They promised much more
They promised more Freedom
They Promised Leisure Time
They promised better Environment
They promised clean Air, Water, Soil
They Promised Harmony and Peace
They Promised Equality for All
Both Science and Technology
Progressed exponentially day by day
But something went wrong
Someone captured them
Hijacked them and misused
By applying their ***** minds
We still have Machines and Robots
We still have Logic and Skills
But where is Freedom and Peace?
Where is the clean Environment?
Where is clean Water, Air and Soil?
Where is the promised Leisure Time?
Now we also have Nuclear Bombs
We have weapons of mass ******
We have smart tools for our Extinction
We have weapons of mass Destructions
Robots are being transformed
From Robots to Human Beings
Humans are being transformed
From Human Beings to Machines
Yes Slavery is back in the Game
Machines have enslaved Humans
Robots have been granted
Citizenship and Civil Rights
Machines have been made ready
Ready to wage war against humans
The question is who is the culprit?
Is it Science and Technology?
No. Not at all. I know this very well
But I still hate Science and Technology
The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists
Who captured, hijacked and misused
Science and the Technology for their greed
Though they have all the things they need
Science and the Technology easily surrendered
and allowed themselves to be used for their greed
This is why I Hate Science and Technology
I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too
But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt -
"Can I really live without Science and Technology"
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC
Don't do secret admirer letters
You'll get rejected faster than a criminal applying for a job
It was a sincere deed that made me feel like I was one after I got a reaction
Some lessons hurt deep
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
While the clock ticks to the hour, yesterday's remains washed
clean in the shower
To obtain her power
Applying her make-up for the night, making sure everything's
just right, holding tonight doesn't end in a fight
She'll do anything she can
To please a man, even if it's not part of the plan
The night is coming to its peek
It's the money that she will seek
Each night at the bar, hopping tonight she'll go far, we all
know what you are
We can see the attention you crave, by the way you behave
You're willing to be any mans nightly slave
& you only pretend to be brave
As the bar doors close, you return to your hoes, you think you're
slick & nobody knows about your ***** shows
I can't tell you what to do
But just remember when they are through, they'll just leave you,
you're their ***** fling, their one night thing
They'll never be your king nor give you a ring
So go home, feeling alone
Waiting by your phone
But let it be known
When you're pretending to be nice it's because
Your love cones with a price!!
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
at first i did not realize what you meant when you said 'i love you'.
i thought you'd said it because you knew just how vulnerable i was to you.
you knew what i felt was real. but what you did wasn't
you were hiding behind a mirror that only reflected the love i had for you.
the things that weren't really there.
i did love you
i shouldn't have
but i do not regret kissing you that night under the lamppost
and i do not regret staying in my room all day long with you
but i do regret that first kiss
by the ball field
the night you vowed you would never stop loving me. the night that i was truly undoubtedly beautiful to you
i felt that.
but now i feel nothing for you.
you were the closest thing I've felt to true love and definetly the closest to heartbreak.
for months i couldn't breathe
my eyes were the red of blood
my checks were puffy as clouds
my skin was salty and id lost all passion for mascara because it only seemed to run down my face within minutes of applying it.
i laid in bed nearly all day
i couldn't move or speak
you had shattered me
and here i am
being you're friend
watching you kiss her
watching you hold her hand and watching you love her.
but i don't feel pain anymore.
i feel something worse
i feel empty
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
Always undecided.
Always saying, I can't.
I don't know.
If not now?
Then when?
I'm just asking.
Love's just floating in the air.
Just waiting for an invitation to participate.
But have no applicants applying.
If not now.
Then when will you let it happen.
Don't avoid the obvious.
Don't put on a pretense you're happy without it.
When it seems you're more sad without it.
Romeo had Juliette.
And Cleopatra had Mark Anthony.
So they knew it.
Even enjoyed it.
But when it comes to you.
You totally avoid it.
So I ask you.
If not now?
Then when.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
As one chosen by God, certain attributes
are demonstrated with loving regularity;
despite one’s beliefs, showing kindness
requires a daring of spiritual temerity.
For The Lord expects His children to give
Love towards people without expectations;
know that being tenderhearted, helps one
to naturally extend actions of compassion.
Don’t think lightly, about the richness
of kindness, it may one lead to repentance;
its warm embrace softens the heart, while
Salvation overrides Death’s life sentence.
The merit of kindness can’t be overstated;
being accepting, forgiving without judgment
means not rigidly imposing beliefs on others.
As His children, one should make investments
in the individualized development of others.
With the “Fruit of The Holy Spirit”, growth
and maturation can be properly accelerated
when applying by the principle of God’s oath
to “humbly walk in Love” (as He requires).
Kindness is patient, when paired with respect,
justice, long-suffering and unconditional Love;
the value of kindness, no one should neglect.
.
.
.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Eph 4:32; Gal 5:22-23; Heb 6:10; Rom 2:4;
Luke 6:35; Col 3:12; Prov 3:3; Mica 6:8
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Some fears are simple.
Others are not.
Joy murmurs above.
We crave patience.
Twisting the top off each other's head.
Who first insults permission.
Applying our hands as cups.
No longer dull to the vapor of how we feel.
We recline in long verse.
Spudders of interruption.
The rush of anticipation.
Pressed against the couch.
Some fears are simple.
Others are not.
Opening up to you without cease.
Frequent sips of red wine.
Tilting you over filling my cup.
Eager to sip in weighed sway.
I hear and smile.
Feeling the effects.
How you laugh.
How you smile.
It's funny how time flies.
Leaves in Spring.
Blown away, scrunched up in the crinkle of your dress.
Rustic brown & red accented in black.
Some fears are simple.
Others are not.
There's no alternative.
I'm an alcoholic.
Pursuing sip after sip.
Civil in how we converse.
Neighboring bold taste
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
/ innocent until prōven guilty,
contra guilty until
prōven innocent...
ah!
so the minority report?
guilty, while innocent,
based upon a premonition?
hindsight with a zodiac
type of interpretation...
innocent until prōven guilty
has no superiority
in practice over the continental
guilty until prōven innocent...
no... because the principle invokes
presuppositions,
of suppositions...
treating the two as propositions -
or rather... "verbs" inacted...
innocent until prōven guilty -
then no understanding of freedom,
at least guilty until prōven innocent
allows understanding
restraint, however unfair,
with 18 years lost...
and then the tears of relief!
Tomasz Komenda...
an "espionage" case of staging
empathy...
en masse...
an innocent man walks away
from falsely imposed justice measures...
a redemption...
a count de monte cristo
allowance...
but in reverse?
the evil man walks free...
succumbing to old age,
and dementia, a pontius pilate pardon...
there is no redemption aspect
of the saxon course of applying jurisprudence...
the... innocent, until prōven guilty,
contra: guilty until prōven innocent
schizophrenia?
the latter overshadows
the former...
because we're not babies...
at least with the latter:
there's a redemption exegesis -
but with the former?
bitter-sweet tears within
the confines, of an example akin
to jimmy savile...
guilty until prōven innocent
has much more authentic emotional
content, with a redemption narrative...
innocent until prōven guilty
has? not much,
just a grave,
and the stunted emotional expression,
what ought to be flowers
within the heart,
instead: fungus, growing in the dark...
and thus... translating
to other hearts:
let's allow this chemo-phobia
chemo-philia experiment
be left intact in its the momentum...
honestly... the study of law -
is probably the ********* game
in the allowance of games of
adulthood... one tier above gambling.
p.s.
because you know there's proof:
and that the past-participle
thrown into a future, does require
an omega rather than an omicron...
not an oh, but an ooh...
hence? reign from above,
on the omicron, with a macron (ō).
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
For translational
invariant functions
The Lebesgue measure is an example of such a function;
In geometry, a translation "slides"
a thing by a: Ta(p) = p + a.
In physics and mathematics,
continuous translational symmetry
is the invariance of a system of
equations under any translation.
Discrete translational symmetry
is invariant under discrete translation;
Analogously an operator A on functions
is said to be translationally invariant
with respect to a translation operator
{\display style T_{\delta }} T_{\delta }
if the result after applying A doesn't change
if the argument function is translated.
More precisely it must hold that:
{\display style \for all \delta \
Af=A(T_{\delta }f).\,}
\for all \delta \ Af=A(T_{\delta
}f).\,
Laws of physics are translationally invariant
under a spatial translation
if they do not distinguish
different points in space.
According to Noether's theorem,
space translational symmetry of a physical system
is equivalent to the momentum conservation law.
Translational symmetry of any woman
means that a particular translation does not change her.
For a given woman, the translations
for which this applies form a group,
the symmetry group, or, if the women
have more kinds of symmetry, a subgroup of the symmetry group.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 1:53 AM UTC
My Grandmother's Hands
My Grandmother's hands told many tales
Of scrubbing steps and broken nails
Hand-washing clothes in enamel sink
Red football socks turned white towels pink
When not baking cakes at the old gas stove
Rag-rugs with old scraps of material she wove
Pantry shelves filled with powdered egg
Homemade rice pudding sprinkled with nutmeg
Sea-coal burning on an open coal fire
Bread on a toasting fork burning like a pyre
Grandma plumping up pillows from beneath granda’s head
Applying ointment to sores caused by being confined to bed
Hours spent at auctions bidding with her hand
Buying an incomplete bed wasn't what she planned
Back home in time for tea, crumpets and homemade strawberry jam,
I can still recall the smell of it, bubbling in the pan
Switching tv channels with a flick of her wrist
That’s how we did it back then, when remotes did not exist
Working hard all of her life, meeting everyone's demands
Every line and wrinkle told a story
On my Grandmother's hands
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, not thinking anything and just staring. A few minutes later she took a deep breath and opened the drawer. Took out a box and observed it for quite long.
She took out a blood red lip colour and began to apply. While applying the lipstick she remembered how exciting was dressing up was to her when she was a child. This red colour was much brighter to her than now. These bangles were much more fascinating than what they are now. She recalled the days when she uses to stole her mother's makeup kit, She recalled how her mother used to beat up as if she had committed any sin.
Her eyes were much sparkling when she was a little kid, Now even the coal pencil cannot bring that shine again.
She stood up without any emotions, She was as blank as a white paper.
The beautiful red lehnga with golden embroidery suits her perfectly, Her long black hair and wide eyes compliment her outfit completely. Oh, how beautiful she looks but something is missing. There is no happiness on the face of the girl who always loved to look pretty. She was living the nightmare of every girl of her age. How ominous her life is she wondered, with this thought tear rolled down.
Took a deep breath and controlled her emotions. Wore her dupatta and came to a room, Decorated with roses and candles and bloom.
It was perfectly decorated like every girl fascinates. But for her, this was nothing of value here it is reflected by her face. This room was decorated for her like this every day, someone waits for her in the room every day.
Nights haunt her, the moon scares her. Men frighten her. Now she knows why her mother used to stop her whenever she said she wants to be like her, Now she knows why her mother cried whenever she hugged her.
These bangles are fetters to her, All the colours are not so happy for her. Her innocence is lost somewhere, she doesn't even remember when she laughed last without faking.
She is like a body without the soul. She is like a night with no moon.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
i went to a witch doctor who uses natural ways of healing
and by witch doctor i mean chiropractor, but the term sounds better for the situation i am about to describe
he asked me questions while i held out my arm
and if my arm fell easily to my side by the pressure he was applying, it meant no
so he asked if i had a heart wall
and my arm fell easily, like the way i fell for you
telling him no
(it was something i already knew but had hoped i suffered from because wouldn't it make life simpler to blame my infirmities on something so emotional and beautiful and dysfunctional we would have constructed together)
he told me my body had nested emotions in other places so as to keep my heart open and vulnerable
one of the places was my left arm
and i didn't realize until tonight that when we first held hands
and your heart was racing so fast i could feel it in my palm
it was my left hand
and
well
that is significant
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC
White clouds floating
streams of dreams
sun above gloating
melting icecreams
sunbathers basking
applying cream
butterflies dancing
partying it seems
Everything appears to be smiling
Long may the sun keep shining
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
There is a woman I oft meet
On my journey here to home
Hey Lady!
I feign to shout.
My complexion's dark
But not my Soul.
So when you fright
On my approach
For
Goodness
Sake;
There is no need
To cross the road.
I'll feel that for a millennia,
ME
&
My kin
You so rudely
Robbing me,
Of the
opportunity,
To politely
Commune with you...
“good morning”
Then again,
You could be applying,
Learned street smarts?
Changing lanes,
Avoiding crossing paths.
This
Uptown
Downtown
Topsy-Turvy
Up-side-down
YOU'RE - SO - COOL
Pretending not to see me,
Hiding under your
Beats
Skull candy.
What sweet music
are you channeling?
Tunes contrary to Art?
Con
Artist
Purveyors
of
Catchy wicked things
Said twice?
High definition
'Stereo'
Types?
Shall we dance from a distance
Again tomorrow?
Yes of course!
For I believe,
You too have been deceived.
Hey! Ms. Concept,
R U
Thinking;
The beauty found in this deep Brown,
Predetermines fact that
I'm called
Black?
© Qwey.ku
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Did you feel me near you precious girl? Did you feel my hand on your tummy, pulling your little body close to mine? Did you feel my breath on your neck as I whispered in your ear? Did you *** Did your body shake? Did your mind quake when you thought of me? Did I caress you tenderly, or did I take you roughly? Was my hand on your throat applying gentle pressure, reminding you that I own you. Your body, your mind, and yes even your soul, that place deep within you that you think of as dark, and broken, and wrong. That is where I truly know you, that is the beauty within that you do not see. You are my pet, my child, my love. Know that I hold you in my thoughts and caress you with my mind. For lways and forever baby girl you belong to me.
Dec 29, 2019
Dec 29, 2019 at 9:57 PM UTC
She was a flower,
Blossoming in each direction she stepped.
A flower tucked in a rose woven sweater.
She grew thorns to protect herself from those whom sought to misuse the essence of her beauty.
The spread of her fragrant bud, spreading her petal in the midst
of where she stood.
Paying no never-mind to her roots, her petals withered.
Applying water to everywhere accept where it was needed most.
They continued to pass, her sweater now dingy.
The ***** of different fingers, she no longer swayed the same.
A season of orange and red leaves.
Then came the winter. Hard but fair
Robbing her of all the beauty she possessed.
It was when her petals fell that she remembered what mattered most
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
When Winchester races first took their beginning
It is said the good people forgot their old Saint
Not applying at all for the leave of Saint Swithin
And that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.
The races however were fixed and determined
The company came and the Weather was charming
The Lords and the Ladies were satine'd and ermined
And nobody saw any future alarming. —
But when the old Saint was informed of these doings
He made but one Spring from his Shrine to the Roof
Of the Palace which now lies so sadly in ruins
And then he addressed them all standing aloof.
'Oh! subjects rebellious! Oh Venta depraved
When once we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal! By vice you're enslaved
You have sinned and must suffer, ten farther he said.
These races and revels and dissolute measures
With which you're debasing a neighboring Plain
Let them stand —You shall meet with your curse in your pleasures
Set off for your course, I'll pursue with my rain.
Ye cannot but know my command o'er July
Henceforward I'll triumph in shewing my powers
Shift your race as you will it shall never be dry
The curse upon Venta is July in showers—.
3.4k
She’s as simple as it gets,
no need to stress.
she’s the kind of girl that never keeps you waiting,
always re-applying red lipstick,
she might as well be plastic.
She’s got something that i cant figure out,
she’s got you wrapped around her finger,
hypnotizing you with her deadly ways.
Baby, if she’s got you then I want whatever she’s got.
I want them tight ripped blue jeans ,
red lipstick on a saturday night,
I’ll be doing anything to make you see,
I want whatever she’s got.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 8:48 AM UTC
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse *********** beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC