"dimples" poems
her hair blows back in the breeze
as she strolls down the sidewalk
between all the trees
with a smile that reveals
every one of her teeth
and the dimples
of her red, freckled cheeks
she's an angel, i think
her divine, secretive lips
shine in their glossiness
begging me for a kiss
i stand aback, watching
mesmerized by her beauty
only able to muster the words
'dat booty''
- jared huskey
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Cheesy carnations
Her delicate dimples dream
She blushed, and said yes.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
kiss me with mango sherbet
in your mouth and sticky
orange tinted lips
these car tires are growing old
but I am young with three
dimples on my face
callouses on my fingertips
of my left hand
stop with the
'you're scared'
in which century does
refusal amount to fear
liberation by the pen drawings
on my hand consumes me
individuality is not dead I
am here
with fiery intent occasionally lost in
a girly figure with a small
waist and awkward ankles
don't dance alone dance a soliloquy
like the bruise on my neck
(labors of love are not
merely towards humans)
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
I am a makeup artist,
Hiding tears behind my masterpiece.
I can draw you smiles,
Paint you laughter,
Doodle you little dimples,
Glue glitter to your eyes.
I am a makeup artist,
don't be afraid.
I do it to myself all the time.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
Her hair was long
Down to that place where *** just barely meets back
The place his fingers linger
Every time she says goodbye
The place where two tiny dimples make up for the fact she never smiles
Long like the days he spends
Wondering if she's happy at home
wondering if she's just as good at pretending to be in love
As she is at pretending not to be
Like the time he spends waiting for a sign from her... or of her
Long like her absence in his bed
He hears her laughter in his head
He'd settle for hearing her name
Her hair was thick
Like the way his tongue feels after a midnight pack of camels
She says she doesn't smoke anymore
But she does
Because she says a naked man can't smoke alone
It looks funny
Thick like her thighs
And silky smooth when they graze his stomach
Like his great grandmother's accent
He doesn't understand her but finds comfort in the texture of the syllables
Her hair was strong
Like her conviction
Her determination to stay at home where she belongs
Though she longs to be with him
Strong like the coffee she brews
Because she's too rebellious to measure anything
Coffee grounds or consequences
Like his addiction
His compulsion to reign her in
To keep her in his bed
In his heart
In his head
Her hair is dark
Like her eyes
Black pools that reflect her black heart, rotten soul
Dark like the way she makes love with the lights off
Because then she can make him into anybody
Whoever it is that she wants that day
Dark like that space between waking and dreams
Where everything is mixed up and nothing like it seems
Where he reaches out to touch her and finds only hair
A few strands on his pillowcase to remind him she was there
He finds them everywhere
Last night he found one wrapped around his big toe
He freed himself but found it hard to let it go
She says she hates to wear a ponytail
Like she doesn't want her hair to look like a horse's rear end
And he's just a ******* for letting her go again
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
When she's around... time slows down... almost to the point of complete nothingness... I look at her and think, is there truly anything more gorgeous?..
When She's around, I feel safe and that anywhere could be called home. Her eyes; a curious stare... my hand twitches, longing to touch her curlicious hair.
Our gaze's meet, and I find myself drifting... closer and closer to her feet. Her lips just within a leanings reach. Her dimples nearly touching my cheek... Her sent... 'Heavenly'.
I run my hand through her hair, and I hear her gasp, a sudden rush and a cool breeze changes the whole atmosphere. Her legs grab my waist and I stare into the pupils. She leans in, our eyes drift shut but our lips finally meet and I feel the grip of her legs tighten around my waist...
I walk forward until her chest presses against mine and her back makes love with the wall. I wrench her hair and kiss down her chest, real slow.
I mumble sweet nothingness into her ear whilst I caress her bare ******* Her legs decend and wrap around mine and I hear her begin to beg. The second my tongue makes contact with the nape of her neck her hips grind tight against mine.
This is not routine, she is trembling. Brewing like a steam pipe, compressed, ready to burst. I slip my tongue into her mouth and open it as I **** the air clean from her lungs.
It is at this point her legs curls inward and rips me back, causing me to fall and back crashes against the floor and she lands right on my lap. I grab her waist as she grips onto me.
The night is young, and ready to be explored. Our quest into each other will bring us beyond the star systems to a plane uncharted and unlike any other, ventured before. The night sky will bear witness to our event and the stars will weep out of sheer awe from beauty. Life, being made in a single dance of love and our moans, and wails and cries of ecstasy and desire, passion and Love...
and when it was all over.. we held one another.. and peeped into each others soul. It was love... Love.. Love of the Titans.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
They say "love yourself"
They say "everyone is beautiful"
Society thinks they're helping,
But they only make it worse,
When curves are beautiful but what about me?
My body, my ******* my stomach,
That is what's beautiful, not your face,
The way your eyes sparkle with passion,
The way your grin expands through the depths into your dimples,
None of that matters,
For you are not beautiful unless you have this, or that,
**** *** legs,
That's all they care about,
Saying "everyone is beautiful" doesn't help my self consciousness towards the awkward movements and gestures that make me stick out like a sore thumb in society.
Everyone is beautiful?
I call ********
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
Oozing charm and fluency, over exuberantly, without vanity or pride or an arrogance of mind
remaining humble and kind
looking just fine
Not with the fittest physic or perfect teeth, manicured hands drenched in gold leaf
Or a sharp suit and tie which underneath emptiness lies
But a beauty that shines bright like a beacon
signalling hardship, success, failure, determination
Strong and truthful
Unapologetically flawed
Lost youth and adult gains
Ageing memories and hunger pains
slight wrinkles, cheeks with dimples
passion,
it's quite simple
perfection is meaningless
It lacks personality and taste
Humility, humour and good grace
The hard times you stared point-blank in the face
However, on the other hand
It's like you're from another land
Im lost
In your perfect imperfections
Filters and airbrush aren't a true reflection
Of the life you've lived of the story you've told
When you've been weak when you've been bold
what made you happy or caused you stress
How you like to chill and rest
Or put your mind and body to the test
I want to see what makes you, you
I long to see it all
For its what makes you beautiful
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
Today. I give up.
I got up to you,
I climbed
all the stairs of the seven storeys, until
I got there, where
I forsook
the costume and the mask,
the desire and the expectancy.
I left them all neatly folded at the door.
You will find them in the morning when
you will wake up and
you will leave sleepy for the office.
You probably won't put them into consideration.
You'll step over "i miss you",
over "i'd love to",
and you''ll hit the little"why" in its belly while
he slowly pulls your sleeve.
Don't worry,
I am better now.
I forgot about the dimples and the mole.
How does your voice sound?
Your eyes... are they green or brown?
That yellow t-shirt,
that plaid shirt...
I do not even care if
you will see the pile
waiting for you outside the door.
It's not like
you have not seen
my backpack every time
we met...
Today I give up.
Because
I am not made of concrete,
and that's how the breeze that
you carry with you
always
unbalances
me.
Because
I really know how to ride a bike and
I do not need training wheels.
Because
I am not afraid.
Because
I have courage.
And especially,
because
I have nothing to do here.
It's empty and deserted.
It's nothing.
Today I quit.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
You think you're a piece of grass
A grain of sand on a beach
Maybe you are
But to me you aren't
You are as beautiful as the stars
All of space admires you
You are the rising sun
We orbit around you
You are the whole **** ocean
And the whole ******* sky
With your stupid cute dimples
Eyes that change color
Red hair that isn't really red
You are my sky and my stars
Don't you ever forget it
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
A pin has a head, but has no hair;
A clock has a face, but no mouth there;
Needles have eyes, but they cannot see;
A fly has a trunk without lock or key;
A timepiece may lose, but cannot win;
A corn-field dimples without a chin;
A hill has no leg, but has a foot;
A wine-glass a stem, but not a root;
A watch has hands, but no thumb or finger;
A boot has a tongue, but is no singer;
Rivers run, though they have no feet;
A saw has teeth, but it does not eat;
Ash-trees have keys, yet never a lock;
And baby crows, without being a ****
8.8k
Breathe here, stare there
Gorgeous people everywhere
Mind chases, heart races
Breath-taking men with briefcases
Black suits and coloured ties
Witty minds with pretty eyes
Pulled up socks, polished shoes
Ink pens, all blues
Strong souls, real men
Captive in a cemented den
Pick one or pick seven
All good as heaven
Hard working, on time
Romantic talks with wine
One sings the other cooks
Charming words, ***** looks
Unexpected, unsure
My boss makes me lure
His Lamborghini, his yacht
Finest of the lot
His dimples, his hair
His tantrums I can bear
Surprise gifts from his side
Strong feelings, stronger vibe
Look here, look there
Gorgeous men everywhere
Single girls form a line
Take them all, boss is mine.
-Zainab Attari
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
She was the one that got all my respect
To her I gave my time, no day of neglect
She was always having my annual rose
And her smile, my only efficient dose
I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
As big as the size of Alaboyun's *******
She was a blend of white-blue always
And tarried for common, countless days
In the earliest moments of our fight
My emotional cord was tough and tight
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
For no more were those fresh apples
Those fruity, pleasant things she faked
As if there was no debris to be raked
She was always appearing ten-over-ten
And no signs of going from men to men
I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
For I taught we'd be best among couples
The soft fingers of her green flowers
Captivated me every twenty-four hours
Then the flowers had music and mellow
Their nectars today are in sweet sorrow
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
Her folks called me a playing tool
And her best friend, a funny fool
I danced through her demanding soul
I almost got crippled by its pot-hole
Now I cried as I saw those two dimples
Molested by her open, plenty pimples
If I knew she went after many men
I would have left her there and then
Had I known she nurtured many wrinkles
I'd have gone before an eye twinkles.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:18 PM UTC
Beauty is not defined by your skin colour,
Hair colour,
Eye colour,
Freckles,
Dimples,
Piercings,
Tattoos,
Birth marks,
Beauty spots,
Or your ****** features.
Beauty doesn't care whether you are
Tall,
Short,
A little chubby,
Or skinny,
Whether you have a thigh gap,
Or stretch marks,
Silver stripes or scars.
Beauty is not meant to be physical but rather what resides within.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
Dimples
Are simple
If watched
By red freckled Nympho's.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
A crater
similar to the moons'
Yet no where near
as grey
Your dimples
entrance me
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
What?
well don't be shocked,
it's genetic coded,
drilling for dimples
my parents did it
to me,
down the food chain,
for a millennium,
Baby Boomers, Millennials,
Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Z
it will be done forever,
auto-naturally
place the pointer finger
gently upon each cheek,
commence so soft
digging, twisting for
the oil of human smiles,
the reward, astonishing!
a shocking discovery
made this morn!
*you can do it too
"going up the stairs,"
to Grandmas, Nana's,
if you catch them,
and with extra care spent,
soft so soft when
they are
just waking up,
when their inner kid
is sleepy showing*
drill a dimple,
drill, baby, drill,
if your baby/is
six or sixty,
at any age,
kissing an
unexpected smile,
most worthwhile!
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Look at those thingy
they shrunk in whenever he smiles
oh my
I feel like exhaling dandelions
each time he does that laugh
how come this one thin creature
could be so astonishingly cute?
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
Tar-dark world. The defining color is black, the inky night of her nocturnal hunts and the deep, bottomless dark of her alien retreat.
A watcher of men, she is everything and nothing. She might be too much of something, or too little of something else. Time will sort out the particulars.
There are no simple entry points – she demands engagement, and to be taken as a whole. Her discomfort is over her own allure, her undisturbed surface. It’s more about intuition and gesture than dialogue. They remain as echoes. They’ve made her beautiful in a real way, with hips and blemishes and dimples in her skin.
The imprint of the lives she begins to grapple with as her time on Earth extends, leads her to stop seeing herself as a mere conduit for her mission, and to start developing a sense of subjectivity.
Her life force is overlapping, shaping itself into a pattern of rings that simultaneously suggests a birth canal dilating, the stages of a rocket separating, and a lunar eclipse as seen through a telescope’s lens.
She's a life-form you can’t quite understand, but it’s carrying on relentlessly, like a beehive, moving backward through the constellations at first approach.
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC
You tickled me
From afar
With just
My very vision
Of you
A dream cloud
Of our hearts--experienced
Time reset
To days
Next to a Langka tree
We meet once
But I see a thousand times
More
Of sharing every second
In words about the World
We share
Shared
In memories
Monuments in my head
Next to the gate
Of my heart
Playful and brief
Your smile
takes me there
with your ***** eyes
Petite little chin
Dimples, I say
You gave petty love
Looks
and curly charms
A name
Yours
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
Shaky breathing
Jelly legs
As I watch you from across the room
Laughter echoing
Your face lighting up like the sun
Oh the way you smile
Makes me go crazy
Eyes crinkling
Dimples showing
Tugging a string in my chest
You stop talking and turn your head
Our eyes meet
I hold my breath
Heart beat quickens
Hands start to get sweaty
You smile
Corners of my mouth start to twitch
I smile back
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
The way your lips move
The little twitches in your dimples
The sounds you make when you smile make me wake
I wanna stare at your face and watch you smile
Watching those lips all the while
Thinking what I'd like to do to them
That smile has me fixed
I find myself licking my lips
Wanting you to push me up against the wall
And take that kiss I have kept from all!
Your smile really makes me want to kiss you
It is a good feeling, enjoying so much
The want and wait for that touch
Your smile makes me want to kiss you
For now I sit and simply miss you
Recalling your smile
I close my eyes
and mentally kiss you
; )
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
It's been a while,
Five months to be exact.
I miss your dimpled smile,
I wish I could go back.
I only saw you twice,
And it'd be a stretch to call it love,
But someone's looking out for me,
Someone up above.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:54 AM UTC
*
Crape myrtle blooms form
the entrance now leading
Into the garden of
dreams that we share
Rose buds and hyacinths
tickle our senses
Blending their fragrance
so sweet with the air
Lantana flowers in
yellows of lemon
Paint summer sunrises
along the wall
Hibiscus petals are
raining so softly
Before our eyes as
their beauty does fall
Daffodil dimples now
show as they're smiling
Watching the two of us
learn happily
That since we met we
have found our dream garden
Grows of our love
now a reality*
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC