"characterize" poems
Your body is your canvas.
You never keep it safe,
you adorn it with scars
of lost loves, of lost dreams, of all your burnt-out stars.
Your lifestyle's your easel,
the only thing that keeps you high,
be it the days when you just can't stay still,
or those when you shatter and cry.
Your thoughts are acrylics,
shades of melancholy, maroon and black.
They characterize your essence,
all the hopes and falls you've stacked.
Your words are your brushes,
imagine how many stories they tell.
With every sigh you define
another line within your personal hell.
Do not lose your ambition, don't give up your health,
for you are not just an artist, you are art itself.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
It becomes exhausting to come up with some ******** statement to intrigue thee. I'm not the everyday "raconteur" of great stories or jolly experiences. To be honest with each and every individual I meet about the struggles I face would take the courage I don't have. So I avoid the situation all together.
What does it mean to **** at adulting?
The question I despise the most upon meeting relatives or friends of family is...
"So what are your future plans?" i.e. (What are your accomplishments that will delight me? What are your goals? How much money are you making out of this?) I agree in which it's quite a bold matter to address, but the question ***** the life RIGHT out of childhood.
*That's when I know I **** at adulting.*
I repulse the means to grow up and get my **** together. Some would characterize it as extreme laziness, carelessness or even stupidity. But most times I feel as though if you don't understand the challenges I face, you wouldn't understand my dilemma.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
I graduated fresh and ****** from my mother's womb,
a gift, greater than any other.
My sister before me too.
My brother after me was swallowed up by Him
mere hours after drawing his last breath his first.
Behold:
This is my unambiguous declaration against
this universal truth: my unparalleled defense
of the dignity of man
against the temperature-empty, relentlessly inhuman
universe unconcerned with these ventures
which characterize knowing it
not. For one day I shall call
my teachers by their first names. One day
they shall call me doctor. This is the totem
declaring the worth of the living and the dead,
my sister and my brother: myself. The totem
of the disenfranchised and barely and disabled
and black. Even also less including I guess
the enriched the cup overfloweth and mighty
and colourless. Our skin and bones and graves
and blood and ****** and lust and chest and
******* and being and nothing and isness is
beautiful
regardless of everything. It is mine.
It is yours. It is yours.
Votre.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 1:30 PM UTC
The saddest fictional character won't know
A novel so doleful can't understand
An author can't write the melancholy feelings
The most pessimistic person can't relate
Poems can't describe how wistful I am
Poets don't even know how heartbroken I feel
Painters can't even illustrate a sad painting
Depressing songs can't interpret
Even my own self sometimes can't express all of this
The most comforting words can't characterize these emotions
Nobody could outline the sadness in me
Not the word "sadness" can even define me
No one on this planet can specify the ambience loneliness of sorrows within me
Cannot distinguish my broken soul
They don't know how scared I am
To love once again
For they also don't know bitterness it had made me
Even if anybody tried
To understand me
They still can't tell every detail
Of all these distress in my life
They can never portray
How dysfunctional
And broken
I am
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Long before her brain figured it out
her heart raced and fluttered
At the sound of his voice
At the length of his stride
At the breath of his knowledge
At the charm of his presence.
Her head said, “Oh, he is merely a good friend.
Yeah, you both click on an intellectual level,
But that is all there will ever be to it.”
Was the damsel wrong and at what cost?
Her poor, tender heart feels differently,
But as usual, will it calmly yield to the
Dictates of her ever-imposing head?
For a season, she managed to brush aside her dilemma.
No matter how much she tried to ignore it,
her heart pounded at the mention of his name.
Whether rightly or wrongly,
Whether it was meant to be or not,
All she knows is that her heart flutters
At the depth of his wisdom,
At the warmth of his smile,
At the thought that he cared.
If only she let her heart lead the way,
Rather than acquiesce to her assuming head.
Her head seeks for a safe, comfortable choice,
But her heart prefers the risky and unexplainable.
In her naivety, she thought the flutters were short-lived.
Reason suggests if she ignores them, and
Refuses to characterize what her heart knows,
Time would erase the flutters.
Well, time will tell.
Time will tell!
Jan 2, 2023
Jan 2, 2023 at 12:50 PM UTC
Tonight we shared all our secrets
sheer in all their glory
Unlike a brushed-up story
where we characterize ourselves
Secrets as they were pure as life itself
right from our heart's preserved shelves
No edited version of truth as it was
no need to glorify ourselves
Secrets as they were ; not to be ashamed of
a testimony of life lived to it's fullest
No story of our mind-confined selves
imprinted upon by a thousand impressions
Secrets of the spirit as God created
with all the elements he beholds in creation
No shame ; no guilt in feeling
the feelings bestowed by nature
Not a story of accomplishments
but secrets of realizations
Secrets that made us who we are
taking us a step closer to the creator
A night of acknowledging
and overcoming
who we thought we were supposed to be
stepping into who we are..
sacred, precious and holy
a speck in the galaxy
yet a complete universe in our being
our own God
that's who we are...
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
Our confinements, our limitations, are set within “character!”
I sway, I bend, I move with the breeze.
“Character!” cannot define me.
Everything I am can vanish-
Everything I am can change.
But what am I always?
I am beautiful.
That is what defines me-
the sheer beauty of whoever I decide to be-
no matter who is looking.
I have no character;
but that is how to characterize me.
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 6:21 PM UTC
Floor Shipping Shipping; adjective /
ARCHEEOLOGY : Last name adjective.
The first stone floor was placed about 2.5 million years ago
when the first stone tools were fashioned and used
by the Supreme Court, good for every paleolithic person.
Paleolithic. Good for every person. Paleolithic;
His name is lower paleolithic, his name is lower
paleolithic. A good name. Paleolithic Arena.
good name. Paleolithic Arena. The name of the upper
Paleolithic for the upper Paleolithic based on
from the age of 19 years of prehistoric Stone;
Old Stone Greek exchange rates + + -Ic:
the same flight with the same fear of fire,
except for the movement of the basket legs.
The devil gave Sadistic childcare early
in the morning; the punishment provided by law
and used from start to finish, use of the sign
of salvation, etc. Legs; feet and legs, soles of steps
was only a spin, as | loving Arias rise
in the morning's morning of morning of the morning
and the dead with their mouths speak
and eat, and is as it were, | the wedding dress;
It is best to get to the mind especially
when it comes due to satellites, | and in yellow, |
Ralph Lauren sings songs about eternal life.|
Floor; Shipping, Shipping; adjectively ARCHEOLOGY: Last name adjective. The floor of the first stone was placed
about 2.5 million years ago when the first stone tools
were fashioned used by the High Council. Good for every person.
Paleolithic. good for every person. Paleolithic. his name is lower
paleolithic. his name is lower paleolithic. A good name to announce in the Paleolithic Arena. Good name. Paleolithic Arenas.
The name of the upper Palaeolithic for the upper Palaeolithic
is based on; From the age of 19 years of prehistoric
Stone Old Stone Greek exchange rates + + -Ic: the same flight
with the same fear of fire, except for the movement of the basket legs.
| | | ||_The devil gave So childcare early in the morning._|| |||
The punishment given by law
and used from beginning to end,
the sign of salvation, etc., Legs,
feet and legs, the soles of her feet
were only spiders and the love
of Asia rising early in the morning,
in the morning the morning and
the dead in their mouths speak |
and eat and is, as it were the wedding
dress it is best to get the ghost,
especially when it comes through
satellites and sings yellow Ralph
Lauren songs about eternal life.
Knowledge of quality of life, the hard steps of the evening musician; Note that the first poetry in the world is that of the child that is a teenager who lied to her in the morning, morning, early morning, swimming and bones, and the father, with the eyes a lover of God is crazy. "Do not **** each other in time and money, some on foot." Crazy, crazy, crazy Asian, um, the ants that emit the color of reality are doomed, and if, and for those who are bad, and the king of ***** leaking a few feet of ... save my God's gratitude For example, God knows a simple one and for cutting, heating and healing bones. What is your time, it is still a shame for people living in the neighborhood. Beginning, I thought this morning in Asia Asia had a number of areas that especially Sikhs characterize with many words. Ralph Lauren, yellow socks, color in the family, which, as a man, offers the developer G Fat or thighs of the rich, fighting fatty liver for trice the price of of TMZ: Levi's green team of archery riders in his first match against Zion in Asia, and parts of the slide closure and socks are dead and believe in vibration. Are you crazy? Did the boy have a boy and should he have won? In debt to MLK - are the eyes of God, and to meditate on drinking alcohol and women. I know you love to swim in your clothes, feet and legs that are close to yours are FUTURISM.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Whenever you smile, your personality arise.
Whenever you frown, your attitude ignites.
Whenever you grin, your cheeks open wide.
Whenever you twinkle, everyone is surprise.
How long have I known you?
How long did I recognize you?
How long when I get to know you?
How long will I ever be with you?
Your jolly, cheerful, and happy.
Your joyful, light-hearted, and bubbly.
Your affable, fun-loving, and lively.
Your gleeful, good-humored, and perky.
What adjectives will I used to describe you more?
What adverbs will I used to characterize you more?
What verbs will I used to portray you more?
What nouns will I replace to point you more?
They told me you're shy, but you are not!
They told me you're moody, but you are not!
They told me you're a silent type, but you are not!
They told me you're single, I guess, you are not!
I love the way you mingle at me.
I love the way you talk to me.
I love the way you laugh at me.
I love the way you make friends with me!
Stay as sweet and as lovable as you are,
Stay as humble and as witty as you are,
Stay as crazy and talented as you are,
Because, you are so lovely from afar.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
A dark ocean carried by the wind obscures my travel.
As the last sliver of light disappears behind the ghostly sea of clouds, I dream of you.
Memories worm their way into my conscience.
Like your fingers gently weaving through my hair,
Though I have not even reached my destination, I can only think of returning.
I must repress what passions remain or this week will tear me apart.
Away from you I am away from life.
These thoughts rush by along with the clouds: transient in their form, continuous in their substance.
A voice pulls me away.
Her face, barely visible in the dark of the cabin, once beautiful now wrinkled with time stares at me with a formality: a smile.
The cold cup passes from her hand to mine, and I am out the window again.
The clouds are gone, replaced by the spreading tendrils of light that characterize the spontaneity of urban invasiveness.
Looking down I see cars, buildings, people, and in this transient state between destinations, between sleep and wakefulness, between happiness and sorrow, I dream that each one has a face like yours.
I dream of a world filled with you.
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 3:48 PM UTC
"People
.characterize themselves in relationships
like idiots,
all they do is refer to themselves
as 'We' and 'Us'.
That's ******* stupid.
Love is the most
individual
thing
any human being
can take part in.
It's much more selfish.
There's no altruism
in love. Only the selfish survive
in love."
"That sounds bad,"
I say.
"No,
It's good,
so good,
that means
that when I tell you I love you
it's because I do,
not because I feel pressured
to be a part of this 'We'
or
'Us.'"
"Love is being
able to be
this candid."
I think of videos
of big-haired moms
dropping birthday cakes
on the birthday boy
or
dad tripping
over the bride-to-be
as she falls for seven minutes
in a dress as long
as the beanstalk.
I think about this candid
scene.
How stupid
and bizarre
you and I could look,
but how 'we' don't.
I now realize how hard it is
to not use
'We'
in these situations.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 5:49 PM UTC
I tried to hide behind bright smiles, bright eyes
Thinking of the lies I’d tell tomorrow
Suddenly your love took me by surprise
I’ve found happiness is the best disguise
So few tend to question sorrow
I tried to hide behind bright smiles, bright eyes
The moment we met, you saw through my lies
No time to discern between friend or foe
Suddenly your love took me by surprise
Though time together is difficult to characterize
Moments with you begin to make me glow
Still, I try to hide behind bright smiles, bright eyes
Yet I find myself willing to sacrifice
Open my heart, let my emotions flow
Suddenly your love takes me by surprise
Time and again, I try to compromise
You force my eyes open, to see, to know
I try to hide behind bright smiles, bright eyes
I’m defeated by love, a welcomed surprise
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
I’m craving bonfires,
inhaling the lingering musky scents
that characterize such memories
and urge our existence to continue
I’m craving bonfires,
letting them ****** me in their dance
with a mirror reflection in my eyes
and strings tugging on my heart
I’m craving bonfires,
saving us from the ebbing edges of darkness
tickling our necks and raking our backs
until we turn to it in anger to gaze at its beauty
even in the chill,
even through the thrill,
even though looks can ****
I’m craving bonfires.
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
I have never met you,
I have never seen you.
We're totally strangers!
Never did I imagine that we will be friends together.
The way you write your stories,
The way you put words on your characters,
The way you visualize and characterize,
Its totally one of a kind--so true!
I was timid and shy when I first approached you.
I can't even think what words that will define you.
But... I have one word that best describes you.
A God-fearing lady, would you believe that too?
I am a reserve lad and seldom share my thoughts with anyone.
Then, I got to know you! You let me vent my angst and frustrations, fearing no one!
You have given me courage to struggle and persevere.
You reassure me that God will clear my heart and nobody will interfere.
Days, weeks, months and years may pass.
Even if we are not related in blood.
Even if we are not fated to meet personally,
I always pray that our so-called FRIENDSHIP will never last!
Do not let your heart be troubled.
At ease your mind towards all that your endeavor.
Reminisce the day you smile like it's now or never.
And continue sharing your God-given love forever and ever.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 9:36 PM UTC
don’t you think it’s crazy,
how sublime I find you are?
with all that flaws that shape your soul,
you’re still my beautiful bizarre
do you realize how out of mind i am,
how I fall in love with you even more?
when you’re the cause of all my tears,
and the ache my heart adores?
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
I’m toey this morning, we’re getting a test back. I was all right or all wrong. I’m early, the first one here. I’m hoping the TA will early-bird and return my test before anyone else gets here. That way, when I run and jump out the 3rd story window, no one else will be traumatized.
I’m trying to have-sac but I’m keyed-up and quivering like a ****** My chair seems all hard angles. I didn’t sleep much. My mind is replaying the test in a loop, resisting the unreliable seduction of hope. I've decided my score depends on one variable in question 3.
This semester I feel like one of those Cirque du sloeil acrobats that spin ten plates on a pole while riding a motorcycle. I realize I’m biting my fingernails and the parental voices that live in my mind spring to life. I shut them down with a shake of my head, they’ll have their say later.
Oh, great, another student’s here, Clint, I think. He’s a stengo from someplace tropical. I’ve never talked to him 1-on-1 but we were in a lab group once, where we had to synthesize a coordination complex and characterize it. He’s smart, polite, and forever chipper. He settles into his seat and slouches like he hasn’t a care in the world. I don’t like him this morning.
If he’s wrong, he’s going to have to throw himself down the stairs, I’ve got dibs on the window.
Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023 at 10:06 PM UTC
Beware!
I am losing myself to art
Spilling the chaos on the canvas
I may not remain a whole
For I maybe draped in a hand skill
Stroked with animal hair
Lost in the heat of colors
Seized in an imaginative capture
Transfixed in time
The remnants hard to characterize
Mutilated for an inventive victory
Woven in a verse of triumph
Sometimes discreet in absurdity
Sometimes molested in modernity
I may not remain a whole
Dashes may surface
In exhibits,
It may surround your gaze
Exist as a description
Limited just as a name.
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 2:04 PM UTC
That too was flawed as your characterize traits.
Do river's move because of wind, or is it because your smile.
Optical illusions, as your beauty gets off at the next transit.
Crowds aline in order hight low short taller.
You choose, aimlessly and sit blank in experience.
So as too your mind you keep safe.
For moods are annoying and you need to pick your team
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC
"My story" you said.
*I am composed of a thousand thoughts
all which scream violently
in the roar of a swift violin*.
"My story" you said.
*I'm afraid of everything, but
the calm movement of
sugary winds terrify me
more than the words you
must keep hidden from me*.
You said.
**My story is not the
sly way I flip my "magical" hair at the break of dawn.
It is not the "cunning" way I say
my "gentle" words.
It is not the "careless manner" in which
I dress**.
But you said.
**My story will not be
why you have found a reason
to see beauty in me.
Nor in the depths of my "yellow brick road"
eyelashes.
My story will not define me,
but instead characterize the
reason why I overthrew you**.
C.R
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
For every action, there is reaction
for every attraction, there is distraction but every little fraction has a faction in fiction hmm, let me check my diction
Every portion has its distortion
of inbalance and contortion
Tip lipped rhymes served for abortion
Robbery of meaning and motion
is the deliverance of emotion
Accrued in a love potion
..hpm!, such devotion
But if you characterize deflection
you might see a reflection, or a fragment of protection, in a starry eyed selection
This format is causing congestion, a congestion fiddling with digestion
which will lead to exhaustion
but I'm up for suggestion or question
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,
laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon
for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize
unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,
and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,
where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness
lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series
of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head
one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate
psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming
imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat)
faced, booked on hatred did demonize
verbal assaults indicate
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering
impossible to categorize
glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder
quite evident amyloid plaques
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation
unquestionably led him to demoralize.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 1:39 PM UTC
I heard a story today of
Dead bodies dancing in Madagascar
Of ignorance lingering
And political faith put to the test
New conceptions like another Sunday
Void of inspiration and
Poets of drowsy thoughts
Drowning below the fractured surface
A poet is always lost in translation
Too many unknown houses
Too many cosmopolitan pacifists
Shouting at blank TV screens
I had a story once
On truth, necessity,
And scientific hypotheses
The darkness swallowed everything
As the dancing ladies sang
The asylums emptied.
On the dull paths by the river
No graffiti of love
I take a deep sworn vow
To look death in the face
No matter what the dance
No matter what the consequences
This is the shape of things to come
A lack of poets, who sing,
Not to the burdensome face of beauty
But the drifting bodies
You never let settle around you.
How do you characterize a story?
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC