"breathtakingly" poems
You are beautiful
You are tremendously beautiful
You are marvelously beautiful
You are astonishingly beautiful
You are magnificently beautiful
You are breathtakingly beautiful
Inner and outer
You are beautiful
You are the definition of Beauty
Or shall I say, what is Beauty compared to you
What is Beauty compared to you ?
It feels shy and ashamed when I describe you
A weak meaning it has when I describe you
A meaningless meaning it has when I describe you
Never existed it wishes when I describe you
You are beautiful
For your beauty I searched
Every language ever lived
And every word ever existed
And the romantic era that occurred
Could not find a way to describe your beauty
Could not find a way to tell the world about your beauty
You are beautiful
Vocabulary will be invented
Words never existed
To the dictionaries will be added
In the dictionaries will live
In the lovers tongues will breath
To describe your beauty
The one and the only beauty
The living and the dead will forget about Cleopatra
Because your beauty is ultra
A new period will start, The Beauty Era
Your era
--Hisham Alshaikh
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
You are truly breathtakingly beautiful.
And I condemn god every time I see you for not gifting me with an artistic soul.
For you deserve nothing less then to be immortalized in art
Jan 19, 2022
Jan 19, 2022 at 5:12 PM UTC
Most of the times,
I feel,
that you and I,
my darling,
redefine our love on
Saturday nights.
Saturday nights,
when the sound of our
heartbeats mixes with the wine.
When you swerve your hips,
to the tunes on the old gramophone.
When every streetlight seems like a shooting star.
Passionate,
wild,
mad,
in it's very essence.
Chaotic,
extraordinary
and beautiful,
define you,
my love.
You breathtakingly
naked and beautiful soul,
is the gateway to the Universe.
Swooning and high off
your fragrance,
all I want to do is
make love with you,
till the yearning moon
gives way to the jealous sun.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Long wavy brown hair
Freckles against otherwise creamy smooth skin
Long eyelashes and dark brown puppy eyes
Loud laughter and big smiles
Confidence boosting and adventure inducing
Long summer nights filled with new experiences
Long talks about things that hurt
Longer talk about things that don’t
Fun and mischief laced into every step
Every heartbeat being worth it
Absolutely breathtakingly perfection
Everything I’ve ever wanted
And for a while
I’ve finally got it
And you make everything so extraordinary
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 1:34 AM UTC
You won't recognize them I bet,
your secrets, even in broad day light,
if they walk towards you smiling,
wearing dark glasses to hide their eyes
in a humid day.They now wear clothes
of different styles to take you for a ride,
even cross dress and change the accents,
they play games with your hazy mind
--the secrets you once buried deep under.
They stand peeping behind blinded windows
prowl as shadows soliciting behind half open doors,.
Time flies in a hurry like migratory birds left behind,
you have to strain your ears too much
to hear even the faint foot falls of the past!
Old memories have changed their manners
they try to distract one with invented details
Like the muffled voices in an attic dark,
on a fateful day so long, your old secrets
speak an archaic tongue, that needs to be interpreted.
One has to be artful as the turbaned village elders
who would for your astonishment interpret
the vocabulary of lizard calls, key to nature's intents.
Or the trained eye of an elder who in flashes
of meteor falls, reads the secret messages of universe.
To get a true sense of your own secret
you have to tread the places they hide.
Make them shed their crusted hides
by which they conceal their true color,
which one has been waiting to see,
with a palpitating heart, walking back
to where one walked once, long forgotten.
That is why elders on days of yore
would exhort, embarrassingly repeat too,
not to have any hidden secrets that hurt
even if breathtakingly beautiful like a courtesan.
In some moment one won't expect
dreadful they could turn and become witches,
with fiery eyes, dreadlocks, and long nails.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
She wears Prada from head to toe
All eyes on her when she steps in..
She...
breathtakingly a beautiful goddess
She...
Femininely revealing ....
Provocatively showing...
Her Silky white flesh hidden and revealed...
Is it the dress?
No..
Is it the face?
No
Its the body
No
Is it the *** appeal?
No and Yes I guess
So help to define **** please....
**** is not always beautiful
Being beautiful is ****
**** in your eyes
Pretty ugly in mine
**** is hard to define
isn't it?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
My daydreams of you
are that of daybreak cotton skies,
fleeting and unobtainable,
yet breathtakingly vivid.
It's as though heavenly harps,
singing their crimson morning light,
have your name floating among them,
basking in the wine-stained clouds above.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
There are certain times
Like when I’m sitting up
In the wee hours of the morning
With tears running silently down my face;
Or when I’m sitting at dinner,
But I’m not really at dinner
That I just…
Need you.
I need to know you’re there.
I need the warmth of your arm,
You sitting next to me.
I need to know I’m not alone.
It’s times like these
That I want to call you.
Hear your voice
Hear you pick up the phone.
Hear that it really is that easy.
But I know that I can’t.
You wouldn’t pick up.
The line would go dead.
For me anyway.
The lightning bugs outside my window
Would cease flickering their tails,
The sky would slowly turn
It’s breathtakingly beautiful rose,
The world would awaken
The symphony would begin
And still
The phone
Would ring.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC
There is a deep pleasure vibrating inside of me and it's reflected in your juices washing
away
the
shaving cream.
It’s your total surrender
The pulsating of your veins.
Pushing against a mixture of rough and breathtakingly soft skin…
I often mistake your shyness as a rejection because I could
die
buried in your black hair.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 8:38 PM UTC
I know we havent spoken in a while. Its just that theres something i need to say, and i know its too late and it wont matter. Because it is what it is and we are what we are.
I just. . . I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
i breathtakingly heart stoppingly dangerously love you
i could say it 100 times in a million other ways and
that itself would still be an understatment.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
And that’s the thing with sensitive people.
They notice the world how it’s meant to be,
not how everyone think it is.
The world is beautiful.
It’s good.
Just like people.
Every single one of us.
They’re the one’s with the big hearts.
Who constantly live wiping their tears away
caused by all the sensations that overwhelm them
even in simple occasions.
Yea that’s the thing with sensitive people.
They feel what others pretend isn’t there.
They see the true beauty behind all this ugliness.
And the true pain that people attempt to hide
behind their awfulness.
They get every inch of true emotion
that lies beneath all their shattered pieces.
They comprehend the world in a way
others could never ever picture.
So breathtakingly beautiful
and sorry together.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
The atmosphere is a cage
Keeping us all in
A confiding sphere
Trapping us on this orb
Floating through an echo-less space
A breathtakingly beautiful cosmos we will never reach
As we keep traveling infinitely
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
I am so breathtakingly in love with you.
The mere thought of you make me shiver,
And your images flashing through my mind makes me smile.
I can feel it in every muscle, cell and in my veins that when you're near,
I have no fear or doubt or regrets. I'm in love with you.
And my every living cell knows it too. I know that the sun will rise again,
the rain is falling,
I know that one day the earth will surrender and we will all die.
And I know that I am breathtakingly, beautifully, wonderfully in love with you.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
*She an Athena
Her enchantress Georgina
Endowed she is with a flirtatiously hourglass physique
Every contour gracing her lithe body breathtakingly unique
Her fair peaches-and-cream complexion outshines the sun’s radiance
Oozing luxuriance
Irrefutably a masterpiece of refined aesthetic artistry
Sparking chemistry
Her nightingale voice reverberates softly
With the incessant whistling of the wind, such a novelty
She my Achilles heel
And am head over heel
Hopelessly brainlessly unmistakably insanely in love
I bet I’ve got some nerve
*
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
We went on a date tonight.
Not the sort of "normal" date considering
my sister was there and we couldn't act as
a couple because it is frowned upon with
my family and many others *(not that it matters
about the others)*. But, nethertheless, it was beautiful.
You are beautiful. Even with makeup on, you are beautiful.
With deep copper and black shimmering lids and
pin-point straight hair (unlike your usual lioness curls)
and your gorgeous laugh, it was so breathtakingly hard
to not stare at you throughout the night, darling.
I looked over at you when you had your first tea
*(another first for you, I seem to always be your first for everything)* and I felt something I haven't exactly been feeling lately,
pure love for you.
I felt the purest form of love for you in that moment.
I watched you as you mixed in some cream in the
"London Fog" tea (My new favorite...Also Sherlocks...Interesting.)
and I put in a sugar cube or two and watched as you sipped.
Your lips touched the cup gracefully, just like they when they kiss my lips. And my heart grew immensely when I realized I was falling in love with you all over again.
I have been constantly in love with you, my love hasn't stopped, and I don't plan on it ever stopping. But, sometimes I forget to appreciate the beautiful things around me, and sadly, that sometimes includes you.
You are beautiful, and I fell in love with you again.
I know we didn't touch much, and I know it wasn't everything you
wished for it to be, but my God, it was the most perfect time
in all of the Universes history.
I applaud you, darling, for making everything I do and live for seem so important... And for loving me while I fall in love with you
over and over again.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Dear Courtney,
My dress was soaked by the slippery wet road in Mayhem. I thought I was parading with the other women here. Yet, I escaped this hell of a home. I cannot wait to see you again. I am on train 25, and the bay is bluer than usual. The clock strikes 12 in the afternoon. The sky is breathtakingly painted on the canvas with the clouds' fur orbiting each other.
I sit here, while I cannot take my eyes off the greens. It is the first time in a while, but it has always been nostalgic with you here. The trees stand there, and the train moves at its monotonous pace. This time, I am thanking this train for its urgency. Maybe it wants us to see each other again. Just you wait, Courtney. Tomorrow, we will see each other again.
It's dawn, and the morning breakfast is here in front of me. It is a complete set. Just like what you like. Tea, toasted bread, egg, and tomato. Ah, I thought I saw you sleeping here beside me. Am I doing it again? Wait for me, dear friend, for I will see you now.
There the trees and the mountain face me. The scenery is telling me a story. A memory of you and me. Ah, dear friend, it is almost evening. I hope you're thinking of your friend here while you're taking a sip of your wine.
The train has stopped, and I am here now, Courtney. I hope this letter reaches you, dear friend.
"She's really a writer, huh?" The nurse said while she read me Cordelia's letter. I nodded and smiled.
"How was she?" I asked. The lump in my throat was so heavy that I could not breathe.
"She's resting peacefully in the bay of Mayhem, Courtney." The nurse then held my hand.
"Do you think she's happy?" I asked her.
"Hon, her eyes will give you life. Of course, she is." She kissed me on the forehead and pushed my wheelchair.
"You will have life again, Courtney. I will see you after the operation."
My dress was soaked by the slippery wet road in Mayhem. I thought I was parading with the other women here. Yet, I escaped this hell of a home. I cannot wait to see you again. I am on train 25, and the bay is bluer than usual. The clock strikes 12 in the afternoon. The sky is breathtakingly painted on the canvas with the clouds' fur orbiting each other.
"Thank you for your eyes," I whispered, and tears began to well up. The wind hustled, and the trees hurried to drop their leaves.
I took out my notebook and pen. I wrote how the scenery by the bay gave me comfort.
Cordelia, I hope this letter reaches you.
Oct 19, 2020
Oct 19, 2020 at 5:09 PM UTC
she's an active volcano
the lava she spewed destroyed many valleys
it'll take time to clear her destruction
for her to turn back into a mountain
she doesn't want to open up again believe her
but she's most likely going to
and after she realizes what she's done
she wants to sink under water and help shift continents
she makes your bones rattle
and the blood in your veins turn hot like your grandma's gumbo
and you don't know a thing about her or when she's gonna projectile ***** her mass destruction
she's unpredictable
and that's what scares you
that's why you're drawn to her
you just know in the end she's just gonna hurt you even though it's not her intent
but she's just so breathtakingly beautiful
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
He sat beside me
On a park bench
In the summer.
The sun shined down on us.
Inhaling the fresh grass cut smell
I fell in love.
His fingers lightly tapped his knee,
Playing a song on the piano
That only he could hear.
He moved down the keys and
Played the keys on my knee.
I finally heard his song
And it was beautiful.
The notes swirled around us
And enveloped us.
Everyday he played our wonderful beautiful song
On that bench.
His fingers were like a ghost on my knee
Almost as if he was afraid to break the keys.
Autumn came and the song changed.
It went from soaring and joyful
To crashing and sorrowful.
He left.
Day after day I went to our bench
Waiting for him to appear.
With his ice blue eyes that pierced me.
His black hair getting in his eyes
And that breathtakingly beautiful smile
That he smiled when he was truly happy.
His scent. That intoxicating,
Heady blend of coffee
And cigarettes.
His paint spattered shoes and jeans
Will never be next to me again.
Our song is forever in my heart
And the boy who I knew for a summer
Will always be with me
In my wonderful memories
Of piano filled days.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 7:59 PM UTC
You see
Former me
Would have done it all
For some company
And honestly
Even then
there was no guarantee.
I could never paint the perfect picture.
Our colors were breathtakingly beautiful
but they just weren’t the perfect mixture.
Our names didn’t roll off the tongue
They didn’t sound quite right in scripture.
But then there’s you
And our exotic hues were versatile
Let’s get lost in each other
Let’s stay here a while.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
Like a flame his plume is wild,
Yet perfectly formed,
A regal blue and crown of gold,
A wondrous cavern of treasure in every eye-shaped fold,
The hint of black, the splash of purple, the green that’s taken hold,
A delicate vision,
It’s easy to see he’s breathtakingly bold.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:02 AM UTC
Most first words between lovers start
as a "hello," or a "nice to meet you."
We did not have a first word.
Instead we had a first look;
pure eyes gazing sunlight for the first time.
We also shared a first smile,
maybe out of nervousness, maybe out of awe, most likely out of finding completion.
If time could actually stop, it would've at that exact moment,
because, as self involved and narcissistic as this seems,
you and I meeting caused all stars and planets to align,
and destiny let out a sigh of relief,
for we had found each other
and in a way, by doing so,
found ourselves.
You refuse to believe that every spare moment I have is spent thinking of you,
and even the thoughts I can't spare, you slide your way into my head just where you belong.
You would never believe the light I see you in,
not when I almost bathe myself in self inflicted darkness,
but your light I shine on you and you radiate naturally yourself
guides me from the shadows I try to drown myself in,
and while sometimes you hold my head under the water,
your soft fingers could tangle in my hair and drag me back up from the pitch black sea
and make me believe it was always too shallow to drown myself in to begin with.
I've written endless novels about your beauty,
and sonnets about your mind.
I've sang songs about your heart,
and poems about your soul being a match to mine.
I hold the pen but your existence writes the words.
You are what all poets write about,
and you are what every romantic longs for.
You are inspiration.
You are heaven personified.
How many times have I reminded you that I have an impeccable memory?
That I am both blessed and cursed to remember every word you've spoken: good or bad.
Every look we've shared:
close or far.
And every touch that set every fibre of my being afire,
and how much I long for it every waking moment when you are not connected to me.
We are two parts of a whole:
blue skies and rain,
sun and moon,
you and I and I and you.
I love you with everything I was, everything that I am
and everything that I will ever be.
I will love you even when I can no longer force a beat from my chest.
You are my oxygen and I will never adapt to breathe anything else.
My biggest fear was always living my life without you,
but now it's tied with you never knowing just how breathtakingly perfect you are just by living,
and just by naturally being who you are.
A song from the birds,
I'll translate to define,
I'll say the words,
I am hers and she is mine.
Until no songs are heard,
until the sun cannot shine,
I'll say the words,
I am hers and she is mine,
from this day until the end of time.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC
Reds and purples
Yellows and blues
strung across the sky like
cotton candy
an ever-changing painting
multicolored clouds stretching across the sky for the sake of beauty
the sake of being
accidentally making waking up bearable
sunrises
breathtakingly
beautiful
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC