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"gawkiness" poems
Visual interest – he is twiddling his thumbs, has marinated his split ends with a brew of saliva, tears, and sweat from his temples; I see, then watch in ****** concern, I must recognize the person who could act with such gawkiness, while appearing so poised: he is like a performer on stage, and I am his captivated audience. Between two index fingers a mug is situated, vapor fabricating from its contents – presumably coffee, with its caffeinated veins pulsing as a phased mine of energy. I wish I could be the pin on his vest or the leather strap bearing his luggage; his home must be calloused and draped, its wealth in a single fireplace where my poetries burn quick, quick, quick.
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
visual interest
i want to hang myself with a live wire- struggle, strangle, sizzle my neck as it catches fire- life, love, liberty all cliches that are no longer dire- positivity acts blindly as an egotistic liar- gawkiness, ugliness burns my love on an antisocial pyre- that consumes me as wet sound echoes a vain lyre
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Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
live wire
small but fierce comes to mind three feet and a bit of restless energy hair so blonde and fine it resembles spun cotton eyes deep blue and a mouth that moves non-stop, with questions, observations and affirmations the thinness of her is that that happens with a growth spurt she walks trippingly, the line between grace and gawkiness she brings with her curiousity, positivity and a huge bouquet of daisy's my heart leaps, when she smiles this little bit of strangeness so used to the male child the feminine is unfamilar the small arms encircle me and squeeze love into my soul and the laughter, that tinkles from her lips lights up the room she is come, she is come
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
Ebony Grace
As free as a bird...in a cage She trapped herself, Into that flamboyant frame, Trying to veil Those dewy eyes. She trapped herself, Within that tailored smile she was accustomed to Her milieu was accustomed to, Trying to conceal that usual heartache. She trapped herself, Inside that veil of sophistication, Smothering that naiveness, That unconsciously shoved her lips to expand into that charming curve, Even at trivial affairs. She trapped herself, Defeated by that burden of expectations, And unwillingly Blocked that flame that always ignited her. She trapped herself, Deserted her reason for living... Not just existing, And existed, lost. But, Even that mere existence refused to welcome that defeat. Her individuality dissuaded her from that suffocation, And promptly removed that veil. She was a fighter, A militia fighting her demons Gallantly. Annihilating those fears, Those self doubts That hindered her conquests To establish her purely sovereign empire. She accepted gracefully Her naiveness. She embraced elegantly Her gawkiness. The lill flame ignited, Metamorphosed into inferno. She wore that invisible Crown, All by herself. She vehemently chased those dreams, Those dreams, which once got her trembling, Were now waiting, To be seized by the Queen. She emancipated that bird, from her lill cage, And allowed her to measure the sky, Unleasheing her rage.
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
AS FREE AS A BIRD IN A CAGE