"handsomeness" poems
Today, I sent out at least another 10 advertisements of myself. It’s not fair. These potential employee seeking companies show me at least a thousand ads boasting about themselves, but I only got the time to send out a fraction of their words, and it’s somehow bad taste to show off my handsomeness. No pictures at all, just boring words, competing against the tacky hordes of plastic signs, overt lies, and labeled every things. I don’t even get any screen time, and if I could even afford it, they’d think I over did it. So I can’t use any ****** tricks to show my fluency in PR devilry? Y’all hypocrites.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Not even the way
the moon glows
and lights up the
night sky
can compare
to the sound of your
enticing heartbeat
thump
thump
thump
against your
prisoned chest
as your head lay
etched into my neck.
Not even the feel
of raindrops against
my cheeks
compares to
the feel of your hands
as they press into
my very palms,
run down my body,
even as you hold
my face with gentle
care.
Not even the smell
of freshly cut wood,
or baked cookies
compares to the smell
of your strong cologne,
nestled in the tiny
particles of your shirt
and nestled in the skin
of your neck.
Not even the sight
of a beautiful sunset
on the beach
or a lovely rainbow
full of distracting colors
compares to the sight
of your golden eyes
on a hot summer day,
or even your handsomeness
that's constantly showing.
Nothing
compares
to
you
a.m.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
I remember the first time I laid eyes on him, that
emotive whirlwind within at the sight of him
I swooned inwardly, blinking...
overtaken by the moment, a radiance connected us;
his visage emanated strength beyond his brawny
physique and his handsomeness
our dawning...
love awakened at the sight of him; keeping bedroom eyes
mentally closed, but, longing to feel him against me
became a resting place in my heart
his eyes were so, tender, I wanted to finger trace his lips,
slowly, allowing him to taste the first breath of our moment
one moonlit night...
he approached, another swoon moment, I melted in his
arms as he whispered in the arch of sultry heat uncovering
the fabric of my being
love aroused...
and our essence melded; one breath...ours mingled,
became precious as wet stained kisses rained
upon upturned pout
taste of him left me adorned, in naked shadows of midnight,
love found; bound by blushed sighs, in demureness I lean
into manliness breathing shades of his love
lost...
in syllabic whispers, drenched in poetry of us, where want
dawdles at the door of need as desire entwines igniting our
flame and I melt between the folds of Him and I
evolving...
in the archway of love at first sight
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
What if you bumped with a stranger?
Neatly dressed and obviously good looking
With eyes that melts when he gazed
And handsomeness you can’t resist
How would you react?
What if he offered a hand to help you rise?
You find that hand well maintained
With those long fingers and soft palm
Would you not hesitate to accept it?
What if he beamed at you?
It is a kind of warm and sincere smile
With those nice, glossy, red lips
Would you trust him your smile too?
What if he looked at you intently?
Considering the admiration you found in his eyes
With the fact that he is the most
Attractive man you ever laid eyes on
Would you give him a hint of your attraction?
What if he asked too much ‘bout you
Yet never gave you the chance to know him better
Would you let yourself be entertained?
By his deep, authoritative voice
Would you rather talk to him with fondness?
What if you've been asked to go out?
Get to know each other well, have some fun
Would you give him just a chance?
What if you found yourself enjoying his company?
‘Til your feelings for him developed
The once admiration you've felt grew and now blooms
Would you give yourself a chance to love and be loved?
Would you question the shortness of time spent?
To let that feeling reign
Would it matter to you?
How much you've known each other
Not that much yet the feeling overflows
Would it be a big deal to you?
That you’re just mere strangers
Who accidentally met, out of millions?
In this wide, topsy – turvy world…
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
I didn't realize or tell that I was ill,
just a little over whelmed,
Your handsomeness formed by hopes and grief,
Brought your complexion a lighten grace,
I knew this couldn't be the final of our story,
The story of my dreams,
But even sleeping I was stunned,
I needed a snap of reality,
Your face,
The delicate features physically inches away from mine and yours,
Pure porcelain aspects,
heartwarming,
petrified,
Difficult to memorize your physique, presents
Unable to refer back to a black and white film,
When I saw your lifeless, sadden, face I can only think,
That glance lifting up with clarity and joy,
We cling and griped onto each other for the limited time
that was given in the dream,
You returned once again,
The more I saw you, repeated intentionally,
I couldn't resist and lean against your touch,
without thinking nothing more then the happiness,
Not worried it would lessen nor fade,
Without thinking I was still alive and beating,
I needed to wake up once more,
and see the light,
to wake up to you,
again.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Our carpenter wakes, looks through window,
Sees the morning star, eats breakfast cereal.
The exploited saint, stands on a table;
"Drink me up" says he so commercial.
You can take Him out of his heavenly domain,
But you can't take the heaven out of Him.
You can burn His body but His spirit remains.
Desecrate handsomeness, needle pierces skin.
Lay it down, sugared up, milk and honey,
Eternity is a long time to get bored.
Heaven is cloudy, but Hell is sunny,
Empty gate, nobody died, impatient ******
Our Heavenly Lady smiles, nobody looks down,
To the clean floor, Mother lays weeping.
Another stoner put in his cave casts a frown,
Messiah arises, but the world stays sleeping.
Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 4:29 PM UTC
You're like my favorite flower...
I could look at you all day and you'd just get better each second.
You're like the rain on a sunny day...
It sounds so sad but it's the freshest break in summer.
You're the perfect memory; the one I'll never forget nor want to lose.
I could go on for days about your handsomeness and even your flaws and it still wouldn't be enough to describe....
How perfectly suited we are for each other or
How perfectly enamored with every single piece of you I am...
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
Grandma never told me a tale
Never scared me by pointing at spooky pots
Never pained me by showing the bird cage trapped in the wild fire
Never forcefed me by threatening to lay in dark corridors
Never slept near me
Nor caressed me.
Sometimes she raved
About the handsomeness,
The extravagance and intelligence
Of our alcoholic, pockfaced, stingy
Grandpa.
And all these like fable
Told long ago
By your Grandma.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
In her eyes
He is beautiful.
He is the fullness of a word that she will never find.
The one word that would perfectly describe
His handsomeness, his very essence,
His charm, and ardent presence.
He is the pink within her life.
His is the warmth that melts her mind
and sets the butterflies in her heart to fly.
Sets the wings of her heart to spread
that she might fly to his light.
He is the Helios to her Clytie
He is the star to which her songbird heart sings.
She is tuned into his key.
She blushes when he puts his lips
to hers and sets her face to glowing.
Sets her heart to soaring.
She doesn’t know the word to describe
the feeling he gives her. The word that
captures what he is to her what he is in her life.
But she knowss there was never a better feeling
before he stepped into her life.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
She says her boyfriend
is looking gray, not from age,
but from handsomeness
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
There's something in the face of a man
Who has spent his life doing
Not what was required of him,
Nor what he loved,
But what he felt forced to do
By some inexorable pressure inside his head and chest
That would splash him on the walls
If he did not bow to its will and power.
There is something that writers might call Beauty,
If they had to put a word to it,
But Beauty is present from the cradle,
Or it is a sudden bloom as a man matures.
It is handsomeness. It is a standard, accepted value.
No, there is a hardness around the eyes
Of a man who is determined to be
What he must be, or else die.
His eyes are not beautiful.
There is something attractive, though,
Something that must be watched -
Like a solar eclipse -
Because it is rare and pleasant
And unpleasant too.
There is something there that will not be ignored,
Planted firmly as if to say, "This is the face
Of not a person,
But a personality.
This is not a man,
This is the constant, untiring, unflinching
Action of a man."
It is a thing that shouts "I must!"
And at the same time echoes the pleasure of doing,
The joy of not straining under that maxim,
But thriving - it is enough to tide him over
When he is helpless and hopeless and old.
There is something in his face
That has done what it set out to do,
And everything else is just time ticking by
Until it can be done again.
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 5:36 PM UTC
My demon,
My demon,
How you have corrupted me!
And showing me everything we could never be.
Leaving me to question my morals,
My ideals,
My religion,
For the idea of love.
My demon,
My demon,
How you have played me!
Treating this as if it was a game.
Tugging my heart and leading me along.
I've done everything wrong and done my part.
My demon,
My demon,
How you have fooled me!
Making me believe all that was needed was time.
Making me think my soul was worth it.
I gave you all of me and received nothing from you.
My demon,
My demon,
Here I am left falling from promised land.
Led astray by your lies.
All for the idea of love.
As I crash down, you're nowhere to be found.
Lie here, broken, bitter, and crying.
No salvation in sight.
But you reached out your hand.
Leading me on again.
Plunging me further into jealously.
Still following without clear answers.
All for the idea of love.
The longer I follow.
The more I deteriorate from my beautiful, angelic state.
Leading me to question if it's worth it or not.
"Of course" I tell myself, knowing anything - or anyone worth it takes time.
Continuing on and on.
On and on.
Catching a glimpse of my reflection.
Noticing my physical state.
Trying to hard to improve my handsomeness.
Trying to look good for you.
Yet here I am,
Dark circles,
Caffeinated heart,
and shaky knees.
Staring into my own soulless eyes.
...what have I become? Did I do this, or you?
Degraded for this idea of love,
Bastardized for this idea of love,
Defiled by this idea of love.
Yet here I remain.
By your side.
Despite my new state.
An odd aura of comfort and pain.
Seemingly the only thing keeping me sane.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 2:46 AM UTC
The day I craved you
When the sunlight was accurately positive.
When the world was beautifully discussing your handsomeness with all the curious gardens,
I gave up on my parchments for the sake of admiring your features more and being blessed with you every day; despite it taking up my words, my ancient quill, and my beauty. I’m still a believer in your magic. I’m no longer a mermaid; I’m the betrayer of the ocean.
Sep 8, 2023
Sep 8, 2023 at 5:59 AM UTC
In a pure world
music and birdsong
spinning
the lingering
melancholy
no more sadness
only memories
and longings
prostrating on the trails
of yellow leaves
counting the rhythms
of loneliness
the handsomeness of the island
the dreaminess of
the susurration of the beach
the elegance of the sails
the water as always
beating the stippled quietness
awaiting the next dawn
a ketch drifting on the ocean
shining a turquoise light
portraying the poetry
of the predawn
or the predawn hilarity of
the fish and shrimps
in the ocean
this is a pure world
and there is music
and running water in it
and the samisen of moods
and the psaltery
of the nature
whats more
the happy pixies shuttling
in the forest
of purity.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
It has been more than twelve hours and I think the spell of his kiss has began to wore off. It's hard to deny a man who is fantastically powerful, good-looking, and smart. He could see right through my innocence. I keep looking at my cell phone, he has sent me one text, and I haven't replied. At lunch, with my boyfriend, I kept staring out into nothingness. I was sexually unsatisfied and stressed over work and bothered by my lover's lack of ambition. There is a painful handsomeness to my lover, and I would never sacrifice the love we have. But there are other loves out there with fatal results. Last night, I laid down in the grass next to this guy and gazed at the distant stars. Not being able to advance made him more desirable. That kiss was full of lust, unbridled lust. I am being driven mad at the thought of how much excitement it brought me. The whole experience was intoxicating. And I am scared that a bird will tell my secrets, i think a glowing white raven was in fact the stars, and he will tell my boyfriend that I was unfaithful. Even though, deep down, I have always realized this. It was my boyfriend, in the very beginning of our courtship, who fell in love with another woman, with unearthly beauty. She was enchanting, her icy blue eyes metaphysical and her touches delicate. I have always been able to feel with my empath powers when my boyfriend was attracted to someone else. It makes me sad that we are loved and flawed. That we are two creatures trying to live in love forever, with our hopes and aspirations and our wistful secret fantasies. I close my eyes, and turn the raven black for being a spy. I take his feathers and make a head-dress out of them. I ponder what our next encounter will be like. I think his ability to move one will be most impressive, and i'll watch him go like a fire unleashed in the heart of darkness.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Dancing Desire/Désire dansant_
Chest to chest
I gently rest
My heart
On the beat
Of your heartbeat
Peau contre peau
Mon coeur, doucement
Se repose contre
Le rythme
De ton coeur
My secrets shine
Enchanted music
Along the symphonic
Mild and melodic
Lines of your lips
Mes secrets brillent
Musique magique
Le long des symphoniques
Douces et mélodiques
Lignes de tes lèvres
The handsomeness
Of your proud eyes
Pierces the skies
Of my pleasures
Tender treasures
La délicatesse
De tes yeux fiers
Perce les ciels
De mes plaisirs
Trésors de tendresses
Passionately
And endlessly
In this blissful
Embrace I trace
Your soft face
Passionnément
Et éternellement
Dans ce paysage
Je trace les traits
De ton doux visage
The dance goes on
Over and over
Oh my lover
As we hold on
To each other
On danse encore
Encore et encore
Oh mon amour
En se tenant
L’un contre l’autre
The night draws near
So do her sands
We touch this time
With our hands
Realm of the rhyme
La nuit est proche
Ses sables approchent
Nous touchons de nos doigts
Le temps, royaume
De la rime
My secrets shine
Enchanted music
Along the symphonic
Mild and melodic
Lines of your lips
Mes secrets brillent
Musique magique
Le long des symphoniques
Douces et mélodiques
Lignes de tes lèvres
The stars cannot
The dust will not
Or so it seems
Destroy our dreams
Lost in the streams
Les étoiles ne vont pas
La poussière ne va pas
Il semblerait du moins
Détruire nos lendemains
Perdus dans les courants
In the motion
Of this passion
In your fusion
You feel the heat
Hold to the beat
En mouvement
De cette passion
Dans ta fusion
Suis le rythme
De cette heure
Let the peaceful
Night wrap its shade
So we can fade
Away graceful
Within our bodies.
Laisse la calme nuit
Nous voiler
Gracieusement nous laisser
Disparaitre au **** dans l’or
De nos corps.
February, 23 2015
23 Février 2015
University of California, Riverside
Université de Californie, Riverside
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
Holding your breathtaking handsomeness,
like dancing with the same alluring malice
that draws its scars over my innocence.
The elusive harmony that brings all
my weaknesses up,
like a romantic novel
drowning between the mouth of
the Mariana Trench.
How could I
bring those dark days back?
How could I not let you go?
Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 4:35 PM UTC
A spell of handsomeness
into a zipper tonight
that harrow mist there fraught
why hers is sheer
a fascinating whim
both together though hardly a tack
in a bed of satin. Alas
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 8:56 AM UTC
The advance of spices
Found in today's shyness
The shrewd and spry, auspices
Of a count of succinctly, the face you make is...
My favor of sincerity
Such an uncertain cue, to look the other way...?
And know the silence, has a question in all civility
Does a sly thought, have the best of well, your day?
Dawn, the silver of the clouds
Has just fallen in love; with a coming star...?
Sharing only the mornings rustling, of breezes and towns
The taste of seclusion with a joy here, never to far...
Noon, the more we modernly save, the time
Happy was a heralded ordeal, of handsomeness's stone
We take to resolve, for another solution of sides
We are with, the kindness and the insist, of complication...
Dusk, and the fools of surmisal, have become realer silence...
The stare of synchronicity and its terror, love
Has the day for another you, with a realm to signify, the end
Of a wishing sky; a simpler earth, hungry for a covenant...
And the night of a lands court...
Made to order, and seldom, the love of forces we describe
As mercy, to an angel's heart, the very first vanity to flirt
Has you by a king, notice a queen share a kiss with life...
Any and all, the resolute masses, take their time...
Here, and the space for vanity to understate hell
With whose tongue; we know the contrite, the pain, and exodus of rights?
Of a coulding mirror? so did the candor it took to say desire's day, and all's well...
With the light and the shadow...
Spirit in my hand, or estrange a hair for a carnal blossom
I've seen your care become a salt, an imagination of milk and honey
That has a jew for you, a waiting wall of accord that has seen, loves and hates shown...
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 6:57 PM UTC
Apparently, it was like an apparition
He eyed me, ***** in his wilderness
Heaving me to the haven of his handsomeness
Him, my male, my marvelous malediction
His Eye seeing my I inside the aperture
Of his “camera’’, when our room was nature
But plunged in the ocean of his sea, see
Like two heroes wrestling on the coastline
We rose naked, his fingertips skimmed my spine
Between skies and waters, with our furious epitome
We made love to the waves, alike Eteocles
The current circling our chromatic compositions
Our tongues watery, our limbs exhausted
In this hopeless happiness, we stroke our passions
On the rough wood of Pan’s harp, oh Polynices!
Cursed by a kiss, blessed by a blow and exulted
By the smooth summits of our souls and bodies
Seduced by the sweetest sin, singing our silent rhapsodies
My name is Miguel, I am not Michael the archangel
But he certainly was. In the warmth of
the wave lays my angel.
November 13, 2014
Inspired by the movie by Javier Fuentes-León, ‘’Undertow’’ or Contracorriente (2009)
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
No one can love and hold me
the way that you do.
No one can kiss and tease me
the way that you do.
I can’t stop thinking of you.
You have put your touch on me.
Everything about your handsomeness
harmonizes with mine.
My heart is harboring your love,
feeling so amazing in your greatness.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 12:43 PM UTC
Your handsomeness is glowing,
My love for you is growing.
Seeing you with others is aching.
My heart inside is breaking.
My chances for you are decreasing.
Even when we don't talk for a while,
I'm still caring and can't stop thinking.
I'm really tired of hurting,
But when you talk to me,
I still find myself smiling.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 3:06 AM UTC
The captive head
Escaping hair
Uncontrollable
You are and then
Sleek
Thin
So debonair
It's hard to tell where your beauty begins
And my handsomeness ends
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Toll of an evening bell
Of a land far away from sense neither
Welcoming the scope of sharing, seemed little
The rue of roles and omnipresent goals, is a requite to bare?
Many and dread; the toil of another eye...
Followed briefly, to wind a searching cause
Simple lows and metaphor, with a sincere edge for why
Is a shadow ever mere, and dear, to ways we laud?
A riddle that makes the night a special peace
A privilege in tantamount time, of questions and answers
That when dismayed, has the voice of anarchy
Intimate, but ****** to rights, adds the humor of heed; to learn...
West with the common, the vices we assure are may in motion
If but a seemlier kind, to these we knew a reason about a shown
And carnal liberty, with which we keep ourselves all and any, a devotion...?
In the aspire of coping, a handsomeness that delivers a promise known
Whimsy stands before a whether, and a care of silence, comes into view...
Trees and fruit, pets and forsooth, are we the people of candor?
That when asked to lead, a marvel of must if the name of doting shew
Shrewd is the cold shoulder, of more than a clash of distance with more?
So, what remains to gall, is a friend in needful deed?
Or was that a paradises fall, into the arms of reality, sake
Of a wish that completes the tact, we envoy is a careful means
To an end, that works like this, can hope become a call to make?
Out
And about the swallow of pride, that made us
Confirmed sincerity of an asking patience, is worth now?
Or if how is to ever be, the gift of poise to claim ourselves thus?
Aug 14, 2023
Aug 14, 2023 at 5:26 PM UTC