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He was art; unparted with his
pens, and brushes. He blushed
at your compliments, for it
was just a way to keep
from losing his pose to
sanity, a dainty piece rocking
against his wall,
making him
stay together
just one more
All feedback is appreciated
Ira Nov 2018
What makes a compliment?
And why do we crave them so?
It’s loved on every continent,
And everyone praises those who give them so.

Yet there are no real rules,
Just many a fools,
Giving their idea of one.

We say what we think is nice,
We speak what we believe is true,
An idea of a compliment.
But some fall hilariously short,
And some say of which can be met with much blue.

So what makes a compliment?
Is it the person receiving the words?
It’s there job to interpret the voice?
Must they dissect what the other says,
And hope to god their interpretation is the correct choice?

So what makes a compliment?
Is it the person giving the words?
Must they be masters of literature,
With the ability to perfect,
The ability to make immaculate,
The ability to speak with all the power of a poet?

Or is it someone's job to do something deserving of one,
With the other person making the choice,
The choice of giving the person deserving words that have been oh so beautifully spun?

Not at all.
A compliment is a compliment because we say so.
There are no rules.
Just what each person knows of each other in this world of fools.

A compliment is a compliment because both people are happy with what is said.
It’s a personal idea for only those two people’s head.
Due to Snapchat's recent "Send X, if you care about me" spam, I decide to write about what a compliment is.
Carmen Jane Sep 1
Busy like a hummingbird
In a hurry all the time
Your beauty it's captured
Barely, but after, you're gone

You smile and you feel
Like the beautiful swan
Who used to be the **** duckling
Now the compliments are on

You're not used with them
You take them all in
You drink this cup too fast
And you forget priorities…

You're drunk on them
You want even more
And you stretch your wings
Yet you dance on their songs

You visit many flowers
My little hummingbird
You don't see they wait for you
As  they've prepared their gardens

There's someone for you
Who can give you the world
You'll miss it, I am afraid
As your too busy to rest...
Mrs Robota Sep 22
Ever get a compliment and instead of feeling good about yourself you feel like absolute ****?
They get twisted in my head. I feel so much more self-conscious and somehow all my flaws are magnified. I feel so uncomfortable. Ugh!

I wonder if everyone around me can tell what I'm thinking? How I just want to punish myself. How I want to crawl under a rock and disappear.
I hate compliments
laura Oct 2017
Spurs in a grass hill
wind blowing up your skirt
honey and money
sweet and selfish

i like you touching my body
and i like touching yours
love oddity bright city
and glistening sun gilded skin

i need my fishing rod
when im around you
need the compliments that i might
complete your outfit by the end of night
Flavia Nov 2012
You and I were different
From all the Other kids
You and I had demons
that the others never did.
You and I felt feelings
never hesitant to share.
you had Gall to say the thing
that I would never dare.
You laughed at my mock confidence
and saw right through my Show.
You showered me with compliments
that sent me all aglow.
I was a writer on the brink
of breaking down in tears;
You wrote songs that spoke about
my pain for all those years.
You watched me weary eyed and tired
when life would be me down.
You told me "Show your bravery
and get out of this town."
"Follow me," you murmured
"There's a peaceful world beyond,
free from all insanity
where we'd laugh and share and bond."
"Don't be Silly!" I'd reply,
dormant in a daze
I never thought, I never saw,
till you vanished in the haze.
Your funeral was touching:
A mirror of your presence
Your words were read--Your songs were heard;
You're memory's effervescent.
So here's to you, my fallen friend
I raise my glass in sorrow.
Because never will I say again:
"Oh, I'll tell him Tomorrow."
ryn Feb 2015
the comforting warmth of the morning sun,
like I had known it from the days of yesteryears.
the familiar scent of dew-kissed grass,
a fresh aroma that brought forth the tide of gratitude laden tears.

I had foreseen the day to be just as before...
I had planned to play out my morning as I had rehearsed.
but your message had foiled all that I thought I knew...
it brought about the smile that eternity had kept pursed.

your words were laced with the flowers of spring...
they set at ease the unapparent apprehension I've always kept.
they spoke of compliments meant only for the worthiest quills,
I've read them in disbelief as I think not of myself, an adept...

truly you are one that's generous and so very kind.
for your words flew off the page and had struck home;
bearing the stoutest of hope and most selfless of wishes.
they had provided direction in these vague circles that I roam.

so now allow me to thank you dear poetess...
for drawing the sunrise clear into my view.
I shall revel and bask in its delightful rays...
because your words had painted today in the brightest hue...
For Pamela Rae.
laura Apr 2018
when the sun burns my skinny
skin off and there's nothing but
the heart beating for all to watch
the fingerprints you leave on me
compliments like poison, an agent
of all my sighs, eyes sore from first moving

quit treating me like a girl
with all your sentimental online messages
like you're afraid to touch my bones
mysteries too cheap to come by
wings to thin and fragile to fly with
holding on til July

because my sanity's getting loose
You know that I want you. I'm sure of it.
But still the little tortures come.
Your cheshire smile glowing brightly.
Your hand holding mine to your side.
Your unbridled compliments and playful digs
Each with their subtle symptom of love.

But you don't love me. You just love being loved.
And I'm tired of writing poems about you
And screaming to the heavens that I am yours.
karin naude Apr 2013
finally i give way
a deep low moan
my arching back relaxes
satisfaction flushes over me
sealed with a warm passionate kiss
a new moon begun
a dash of color added daily
new hair style, off with the old
accessories a must, compliments my manicure
dark short and eye catching
all i need is the perfect pair of shoes

a women matured
savored for my chosen
the nape of my neck
small of my back
the tip of my *****
a knowledgeable lover
brings fire to my belly
stopping only at sight of satisfaction
the kind young girls fantasize about
old women relive in memories gone by
stories and poems inspired

my words covered in lace
awakens passion
my lovers eyes burn at the thought of me

:) :) the mind a powerful gift
Little Bit Mar 2017
external validation
it's your drug of choice

it starts with
gold stars for
good behavior

the seed to please
it just grows and grows
into a wild jungle vine

gold stars turn into
compliments and "likes"
it feels so nice
but it's not

because you
need it
more and more
you have to
win the award

it controls you
and you don't
even know
who you
are anymore
written 3/25/17
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