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Wuji Dec 2011
Imperfections, Imperfections, Imperfections
Imperfections,
Imperfections, Imperfections.

That's all that she sees.
Looking at the mirror,
Markin herself up,
With a thousand fees.

Sees something that,
She don't like,
She has to workout,
Go for a hike.

She doesn't like,
The way she looks.
Gonna fix herself up,
With some needles and hooks.

Sees everything bad,
Though she looks good.
But some people knock her down,
Knowing she'd call the vultures to pick her for food.

But what she don't get,
About herself,
Is that a high opinion of you,
Is true wealth.

Also she must think,
About others.
Tell an obese woman,
That you are the fat one when you stand in-font of her.

Tell the starving boy,
That you're the scrawny dude.
Tell the average American,
You eat too much food.

Think about what you say,
Cause someone might have it worse.
Don't say you want to die,
Like the dear family member in the hearse.

Remember that the perfection of something,
Is what you think is right.
But how can anything be so,
When we have all lost sight?
For those who play "I spy" on themselves looking for every unwanted detail.
I'm in love with a girl.
She is not perfect.
She doesn't have the perfect hair.
She doesn't have the perfect teeth.
She is no way near perfect to most people.

Most people will look at her and point out all of her imperfections.
I look at her, and I point out her beauty.
Its not that I do not see she is not perfect by the worlds eyes.
It's because all of those imperfections are whats most beautiful to me.
With out all of her imperfections she wouldn't be her.

People look at what shows.
What i see is what glows deep below the surface.
Because that's where the most beauty shows.
Where no one can see.

Her imperfections are truly beautiful to me.
They each have a story behind them.
They each have different features.
No one can have the same imperfections as her.

I'm glade she has these imperfections.
Without them she would be perfect to most.
Just not to me.
Because the way she is now is perfection of the imperfection to me.
That's all I want her to be.
nightdew Jan 2019
all these jagged imperfections of mine,
why can't you just disappear into thin air,
like my ol' trusty friends,
like my appreciation for life,
like my motivations for myself.

all these jagged imperfections of mine,
why must you stick with me,
through thick and thin,
through rain and snow,
through hail and sleet,
through summer and winter.

all these jagged imperfections of mine,
why must you love me,
more than my friends,
more than my family,
more than my love.

all these jagged imperfections of mine,
why must you show me how cruel life is,
with the sunshine blinding me day and day,
with the rain pounding on my window,
with the endless heartache in my chest.

oh, all these jagged imperfections of mine,
can't you just give me a break,
to breathe the sun's rays,
to stroll through the forest,
to admire nature.

is it a lot to ask for you to go away,
jagged imperfections of mine?
28, January 2019
Jack R Fehlmann Jan 2015
If only, all of us
All of these flaws
Brought to light
As I dust off so many faults
All of the imperfections
Found in concept and the real
All of each that ever has or may one day come to be
Found flawed and uncomely
A patina prone surface
Gives thIf only, I dust off
All of these imperfections
This conception is flawed and uncomely upon the patina I'll be surface countless cracks outline Gian found cheaper and fell away an incident of an accident with another day another day to me tomorrow please winter is this artifact was cash **** strong imperfect is the very first day even less but more much like the one I have found the one I love soon to be fully covered almost total need a wonderful Wednesday me imperfections that unique don't we get up dust off our covers then count away the hours as we seek our unfastened and wonderfully honest place where we fall snuggly into consideration of and in the less than perfect place we were forever meant and made to be. ecountless cracks outline Gian found cheaper and fell away an incident of an accident with another day another day to me tomorrow please winter is this artifact was cash **** strong imperfect is the very first day even less but more much like the one I have found the one I love soon to be fully covered almost total need a wonderful Wednesday me imperfections that unique don't we get up dust off our covers then count away the hours as we seek our unfastened and wonderfully honest place where we fall snuggly into consideration of and in the less than perfect place we were forever meant and made to be. mperfection
This conception is flawed and uncomely upon the patina I'll be surface countless cracks outline Gian found cheaper and fell away an incident of an accident with another day another day to me tomorrow please winter is this artifact was cash **** strong imperfect is the very first day even less but more much like the one I have found the one I love soon to be fully covered almost total need a wonderful Wednesday me imperfections that unique don't we get up dust off our covers then count away the hours as we seek our unfastened and wonderfully honest place where we fall snuggly into consideration of and in the less than perfect place we were forever meant and made to be. dust off
All of these imperfections
This conception is flawed and uncomely upon the patina I'll be surface countless cracks outline Gian found cheaper and fell away an incident of an accident with another day another day to me tomorrow please winter is this artifact was cash **** strong imperfect is the very first day even less but more much like the one I have found the one I love soon to be fully covered almost total need a wonderful Wednesday me imperfections that unique don't we get up dust off our covers then count away the hours as we seek our unfastened and wonderfully honest place where we fall snuggly into consideration of and in the less than perfect place we were forever meant and made to be.
garbage and lack of stimulants
Frank DeRose Apr 2015
You are perfect,
In all your
Imperfections.
You are beautiful,
In your undying
Glory.
Your broken soul
Is the very thing
That makes you
Whole.
Your gentle kiss,
Your healing touch.
You are you,
And no one else.
'Tis you I love,
In all your
Perfect
Imperfections.
Under cover of the night,
By the stars gentle glow,
'Tis you I love.
In your glorious beauty.
In the quiet morn,
Your face peaceful,
Unadorned--
'Tis you I love.
In all your perfect,
Imperfections
Peter Watkins Aug 2014
I want to be in love with you.
I don't just want to love your body.
To love your very essence and soul,
everything that you do.
See past all of the perfection,
to the real you.

I know that your body is perfect.
You've told and shown me before.
But I don't care that your skin's the perfect shade.
Don't need to know your hair is the perfect frame or,
that your ******* are perfectly proportionate.
I want to love you baby, you.

Just drop the shield, the false barrier.
Quit hiding behind fashion and makeup.
I want to see the real you.
From when you used to laugh in the cutest way.
Through to the way that your emotions used to fray.
When you showed me you were sad and I was your crutch.

But now you say these 'imperfections' made you weak.
Being emotional, opening up to people and being 'imperfect'.
All of those things made you important; the emotion especially.
Like shining white stars they made you special to me.
Your true beauty didn't spring from implants and surgery.
But from those glimpses I would get of reality.

That pimple on your neck and that awkward cough.
wearing a hat to hide the light wave of freckles on your forehead.
All of these things are what I fell in love with my darling.
All of your 'imperfections' were the basis of normality.
They reminded me you were human and none of us are perfect.
It's that string of unfortunate mistakes that makes humanity.

I guess, you could say that this poem's imperfect.
With its broken pacing and lack of consistent rhyme.
A jumble of syllables punctured haphazardly in line.
Like bullet holes in corrugated iron.
But really that's what makes it so intriguing and wonderful.
It's so raw and true that its existence is beautiful.

I guess this poem stands as a metaphor for you.
A mirror for your past self when you weren't as 'perfect'.
I love it for its novelty and natural highs (and lows)
Without being processed and influenced through naive windows.
Advertisements and films give you high expectations
and all of the models you saw force you to filter the 'imperfections'.

This is why you're no longer enough for me, baby.
The way you insult the 'imperfect' as though they're wrong.
But they're real people, unlike the mannequin you've become.
I want you back, the real you who didn't care what people thought.
However, I doubt that form of personality will ever be reborn.
For you, 'beautiful', have become trapped too far up your own ****.

Sorry, it's the truth.
Your plastic body doesn't induce.
The tiniest bit of warmth inside me...
This mega-poem is possibly my best work. Built from the knowledge I already knew, getting up in the dead of night to scribble ramblings into a pad and from the knowledge of a fellow poet and friend (but we'll get to that later) This, like the poem 'like plastic', is about how fake modern life is and how we've lost sight of true beauty. Thanks to a conversation with a hugely intelligent poet from this site (her name is margaret so check out her poetry, she contributed to this idea as much as me!) I've discovered that true beauty comes from peoples imperfections as those same imperfections are what make us special. If everyone was beautiful, then no one would be and now we have this fake expectation for everyone to be gorgeous when some people simply aren't. I've thought this for a long time but only recently I've learn't its importance. Hope you enjoy the poem, it took me a while to write :) - Peter
Michael Tobin Mar 2013
As I lay in my bed I can't help but notice the little imperfections,
the chip in my dresser,
the small crack in my wall,
the poster tilted every so slightly to the left,
the flickering light,
the scratch on my phone,
the poorly organized folders,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
the stitching of my flannel coming loose,
the fact that my left foot is bigger than my right,
the scar on my left pointer finger,
the fact that my left ring finger bends to the right,
the fact that the paint on my ceiling is whiter in certain areas,
as I lay here noticing the little imperfections I come to a realization,
little imperfections don't cause a system to fail,
my room is still a room,
I'm still living,
it seems to be easier to focus on the little imperfections rather than the system as a whole.
Sam Haidan Apr 2015
Look at you.
You, with the perfect imperfections.
With the intrinsic flaws
Delicately designed
To strike my every nerve and make it twitch.
Your presence is an infestation,
A troubling invasion through my mind,
And still, it fills in all the empty spaces.
You, with the perfect imperfections,
Are here to stay.
And I would have it no other way.
A Jun 2014
The only perfect thing in this world
Is its constant imperfections
Kenya83 Mar 2017
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
Taylor - Sweety Jun 2019
Imperfections are beautiful..
they make us stand apart, from the crowd..
they are not always meant to be plowed;
Imperfections..
They are not liked by any
and camouflaged by many,
but they are closer to my heart..
as they are evident on me like a schardt
Imperfections..I will not disown them for any flagships..
Because imperfection is what defines our relationship;
Paul Hansford Nov 2016
Nobody's perfect,
but you come pretty close.
Or if that's too many words,
just stop at four.
("Nobody's perfect but you.")

That's what I said at first,
but then I thought – No.
It's literally true.
Nobody
is
perfect.

Especially you.

Because the more I get to know you,
the more imperfections I find,
and your imperfections
are what makes you ...
... well, you.

And loving you
as I do,
perfect or imperfect,
then I love your imperfections.
They are, after all, what make me feel
you are perfect.

Why can't there be some language
that says what I really want to say?

Ah, but there is one.
There is such a language.
It's Poetry.
The world within Aug 2015
School
Family
Friendship
Boyfriends
or
Girlfriends.
Each sphere of life
put there to make you work.
Work for the best.
Work to be the best.
Work to have the best.
Each sphere having its own imperfections,
Its own weaknesses,
Its own blemishes.

These are are what we call
Perfect imperfections.
Which make life exciting,
stirring and unique.
Every flaw
Every fault
Every error
All put there to make life extraordinary.
Your scars mean nothing to me
Your scars are in your head
Your scars are what consume you
Darling don't let them consume you
for there are greater things to worry about
than your imperfections
For your imperfections are the reason
I picked you
Your perfections are amongst the imperfections
even though you can't see past the imperfections
we can
The world can
I can
The head is a dangerous place
Don't let it hate you
For you are the stars, the constellations in my sky
You are the beauty I see every day
You are the sun rising every morning
and the moon ascending at night
You are the reason I smile
The reason I laugh
You are the universe in my little world
You are everything
that your imperfections are not.
I wrote this poem about something I love. Someone that doesn't love themself as much as I would love them to. I wish you could just see what everyone else can see.
Jade Welch Nov 2015
This point of time will be forever kept
Inside my mind, forever and a day:
Your greasy hair dragged cruelly by the wind.
Your mountainous nose, that gets in the way.

You do not speak the way you really should;
You speak the same as an old foreign man.
You hide dry skin beneath that tired blue hood -
To be with you would be no sane man's plan.

You're not a pretty sight which is a same
You shall never be a beautiful dame
But, oh, I love you, darling, all the same.

Your imperfections make you who you are:
A shining star not seen is still a star.
Inspired by Shakespeares sonnets! This sonnet is only 13 lines long, rather than the traditional 14 lines, just to make it as imperfect as the lady the poem is supposedly about, little differences to a traditional sonnet have been made, such as the 13 lines and some of these lines are not the traditional 10 syllables long.

I hope you enjoy reading just as much as i did writing it, ENJOY!
mark john junor Sep 2013
relentless
the kitchen clock ticks
and without grief it lays out the
meat of night
bloodless and small
delicate in its twisting features
its bone thin fingers on spine
soft touch like fire

she is doubled up by
the toilet in a puddle of tears
and the sadness you feel is so complete
and completely yours alone
for she has gone beyond caring about inconsequential
thing like appearance
her lips cold
roll over broken words
puncture the hard surface
of her blatant thoughts
coarse and black with grease
a grave of concept
a concept of graves
interchangeably pattern

hours spent here
days and then you realize
its a lifetime
in the space between broken window
leaking frigid air
and the burning heat of her bed
the darkness that never lets
that is never abated by thouse who pass
thouse who tread with such care
hoping never to be seen benith the archway
benith flickering light
of the ***** trail

she laments
to no avail
pauses in her song to stare at you openly
without a word
she resumes the dance
of tale and blade
of knife and tongue
till they are one and the same
till her voice is the thing cutting into you
until her voice is consuming you
and its dark juice is feeding on you
imperfections in her vision

(part two)

it is now him
the pornographic box of her mind
is full of her noise
her voice distorted into his
her thoughts melt into his
until she is him
and she no longer feels lost
she feels hot sticky and wet
she feels like fresh paint drying
slow wicked and tense
like a serpent coiled for a strike
at his heart
the exact center of his beating heart
she will see it cease
she will be a ******
she will be an ****** of imperfections

his lazy eye
wanders over her wet form
clawing at bits of cloth
gnawing at the fundamentals of her flesh
consume the parking lot of her brow
where her doubts show
in neatly lined rows
devour the candy samples of her lips
rose colored and tasting like rivers of cherry
where her words fall from
like molten razors

his ***** fingers
caress her clean thin wrist
bracelet golden
with painted jewels pink and cheerful
paint slopped outside the lines
he inspects its every inch
marveling that she could have imperfection
his lazy mind wanders all over her
and his greasy thoughts leaves trails of
butter smooth filth
and insects eating ravenously of the
stench and disease

this is no fantasy
its a disrobed natural kernel of truth
up from dark city street
AntRedundAnt Jan 2014
love   apple   like   time   know   feel   heart   bed   little   life   home   red   boy   georgie   sleep   away   left   dear   ruth   gone   just   right   long   mind   hope   hair   mi   parts   say   fear   met   laugh   makes   sailing   make   tell   hands   day   poem   different   small   words   private   wish   legs   child   man   free   te   welcome   easy   apples   meteorite   smile   flower   want   way   arms   look   eyes   better   war   lie   good   thing   truly   teeth   passion   thought   work   seen   letters   friend   talk   brought   future   fingers   knew   imagination   sure   told   space   cold  la   mask   black   big   bite   age   size   shadow   petals   inane   stretchmarks   medic   we've   wouldn't   hear   tap   really   best   goes   face   gray   maybe   things   dream   tongue   forever   hate   set   room   death   need   truth   comes   night   lost   calves   pain   end   years   brings   touch   feet   blades   memories   new   core   times   dead   favorite   finally   minute   brain   hearts   getting   belly   far   rain   blue   knees   filled   stupid   woke   cream   fit   young   brown   se   fat   tan   cough   spoke   says   unlike   footprints   ******   rough   forward   buckle   blues   task   shoulder   grace   *******   reason   nostrils   firm   juice   palms   someday   mis   thumbs   screams   arguments   wobble   *****   elbows   *******   wrists   headaches   amo   pesky   ligaments   one-liners   thoughts   later   ash   clouds   lips   dreams   breath   mouth   hold   sense   taking   world   bit   speak   dance   gave   shall   ready   skin   air   single   breathe   button   peace   choices   hill   wrong   weak   close   use   quite   sky   phrase   darkness   justice   sound   unable   brave   holding   deep   grabbed   ****   try   building   paper   lunch   think   kind   stay   days   smooth   perfect   learned   care   fair   hard   grant   sweet   high   fruit   short   terms   kept   relationship   underneath   presence   water   looking   fool   sorrow   tree   second   delicate   nearly   happy   line   tall   tried   sad   satisfied   point   feels   falling   purpose   game   lazy   que   amor   agree   known   naught   loss   broke   failed   games   limp   grin   final   spring   act   south   flare   race   sake   car   large   wishes   neck   blink   knife   seeing   idea   steve   company   greens   spread   ship   lo   sally   sum   drowned   december   weep   sting   smiles   lessons   promises   successful   whistled   drowns   perfectly   pleasing   failure   brothers   cliche   harder   thirteen   ale   signs   limit   serenity   mundane   origin   chat   sapphires   handshakes   skinny   contagious   succeeding   super   refer   maturity   destination   civil   uncomfortable   collects   clack   liz   beatles   vez   attract   accomplishment   backside   throes   flaccid   audi   oneself   beastie   applesauce   naivete   bungalow   outie   there's   couldn't   isn't   they're   let's   'n   primos   primas   cantuta   fronton   redd's   mott's   innie   phallicly   tiny   fight   yo   para   walk   ****   hello   light   flash   silent   stone   does   forth   conversation   polite   green   minutes   ****   clear   flesh   couple   wake   anger   throw   torn   tangle   play   shattered   soldier   land   victim   carry   battlefield   came   darkest   blood   battle   warm   shine   reminds   lose   eye   dismay   hide   impossible   fast   earth   grab   stand   die   worse   year   people   white   story   hit   god   anxiety   realize   fall   asleep   dark   course   apart   morning   remain   beauty   ****   slowly   start   happen   remember   pray   past   easily   straight   mean   hand   driving   instant   thunder   messages   friends   old   coming   pen   seeds   shape   wasted   word   living   tore   shadows   knowing   bad   class   joy   trust   leaves   path   sun   ways   leave   meet   broken   head   weight   means   mountain   boys   true   stars   learn   sliced   naive   decided   player   actually   reality   ease   music   hood   desperate   promise   wishing   begin   miss   caressing   moan   thighs   heard   pretty   emotion   figure   floor   exotic   sand   hits   angel   awake   dreaming   probably   wins   seek   stretch   loved   tears   heartbreak   punk   walking   piece   furniture   unreachable   roots   near   deserve   simple   cats   tail   precious   lovers   loves   mother   tongues   clueless   share   taken   yesterday   faith   freedom   ripe   cursed   running   yes   unknown   feeling   going   stairs   opposite   wonder   afloat   packed   bones   acting   playing   wind   passions   dismissed   hourglass   reached   stares   mouths   singing   shaped   trapped   toll   dies   rock   trunk   discovered   especially   dull   choice   awful   patient   great   indoors   attached   thread   shoulders   warms   bright   bring   ending   drowning   sadness   winter   baby   looked   cute   beating   tight   kids   crying   ran   intoxicating   growing   saying   opposites   melancholy   gives   follow   clearly   dove   tu   soon   entwined   juicy   drown   laid   took   moved   bear   anyways   shirt   negative   clean   guide   sore   location   faux   nodded   glance   caught   chances   week   started   today   obvious   sweat   ***   quiet   laughed   worry   round   ladies   mama   smack   goodbye   rising   sides   wished   beds   infinite   positive   scared   admittedly   mistakes   meal   common   rises   toes   bullets   bound   suited   birth   clothes   belt   pounds   ground   barren   sitting   table   woe   swimming   stick   deepest   motion   cleared   sing   angry   action   sons   smiled   bedroom   wall   wiped   grins   mad   july   store   road   snow   pulse   important   adventure   exactly   foundation   trap   colors   floors   neon   outside   language   summer   north   fifty   served   wavy   kick   raw   thirty   row   changed   hanging   lied   drenched   companion   begins   strength   flies   direction   okay   stories   inky   stubborn   cloud   track   described   lover   replaced   pit   packs   circling   honest   wage   dinner   slave   paradox   faking   screamed   lightning   exterior   stopping   complete   deal   rifle   dependent   gifts   dancer   vision   students   horror   punch   anymore   pack   sagging   folk   honestly   tearing   prepared   creatures   listening   rhythm   unique   roar   card   glass   stage   desert   offered   fought   suffer   awoke   master   eating   furnace   glad   choir   graceful   *****   treasure   ships   bark   musical   strand   bee   finished   pink   slink   stronger   disclose   gravity   schedule   march   medicine   hates   weird   brush   laughs   helped   june   pitched   dumped   tense   sin   withdrawn   stem   proved   whispered   anew   amazing   louder   english   knocked   chilly   boots   false   mistake   toffee   whistle   smirk   gas   poised   buttons   bet   necks   elate  vi   bleak   decades   intention   plane   swollen   unseemly   en   sir   creeping   tells   success   doth   ***   balance   ant   fourth   fits   matters   pan   shook   tingle   dusty   reaching   thanked   careers   pile   tempt   ix   xi   xii   xiii   moms   hushed   spears   twinkling   works   fairytale   double   fighter   shocked   barriers   boot   thanks   solitary   lesson   owned   systems   groan   weekend   tomatoes   cider   calculating   drawer   partially   handy   stumpy   album   appealing   pet   unfortunately   jokingly   hotel   teacher   tag   eighteen   leg   dash   peep   betwixt   swear   attempt   inescapable   venues   worker   suit   coughed   remembers   rhyme   listed   chatter   stuff   assist   blocks   sheen   stanzas   jobs   cleaned   handshake   natural   moi   fantasy   cheers   smaller   curl   nay   leaning   frequent   eggs   cuando   el   desayuno   tus   beige   imperfections   difficult   darlings   overcome   oranges   keys   newfound   fairly   occasions   stats   ponder   pools   ablaze   rushes   fret   quell   breads   progress   comfortable   settling   desks   tile   trails   rainy   homemade   stunned   cemetery   plus   ideas   avocados   bananas   apply   latch   rocky   digress   experiences   vacation   sanctuary   earlier   rocket   precise   various   author   pie   explosions   *******   lighter   matched   plunged   isaac   jefferson   abe   measured   saturday   claw   welcoming   gear   trained   suffocation   leapt   gap   lee   disturbed   es   thrill   alarming   grill   frankly   importantly   una   fray   candied   amalgamation   nasty   american   optimism   guns   craters   contracted   rampant   unattainable   spilled   courts   carrots   shuffled   combined   blonde   forgave   artillery   sandwich   comfier   limitation   personalities   friday   strongly   crude   banana   tennis   limits   quaking   recesses   loot   andromeda   shells   playful   luckily   area   upwards   flail   largest   sappy   freckles   biology   fruition   cases   overtook   pinks   instruments   brownies   birthmark   reinforce   laptop   pirates   blinks   frontier   forwards   resonate   capacity   mumbled   marched   scraping   prompts   multiply   haiku   football   como   function   unfeeling   eighty   backsides   prompt   raced   blare   likewise   pro   chrome   gran   pears   puede   corazon   elated   indecisive   basketball   burgundy   synonyms   braced   effeminate   mutually   duties   companies   honeymoon   flailing   patted   mayo   headon   pero   misma   marveled   aforementioned   abhors   forefront   hesitating   identical   creepy   possessive   screeched   gotcha   infidelity   friction   barrage   nonetheless   disparate   itchy   apex   gettysburg   lunchtime   pickup   muchas   then   and   trading   distinguishable   pitches   bunk   ven   ladylike   encompasses   diagrams   underlying   spaghetti   soccer   trashcan   papa   disarming   finalmente   clashed   rosie   smirks   snapshot   pug   songbird   spitfire   yanks   thankfully   mesa   flexing   virginia   effectively   variations   eclipses   tambien   outrun   incident   vitamin   willpower   underdog   hardboiled   miniscule   checkerboard   entrust   siento   heavyweight   davis   thyroid   foreshadowing   frances   heresy   starburst   deficiency   sawing   peruvian   leche   antithesis   villanelle   alliteration   hora   vivir   clacking   droopy   whizzed   britney   futbol   parameters   disney   mangos   disproportionate   orbiting   tanka   stubby   intro   listo   goldilocks   teamwork   pbj   exemplifies   rey   retainer   tenia   triples   espanol   estuvo   castillo   ferrying   suficiente   racecar   dorky   garganta   veo   julio   peripherals   labios   rojos   foreseeable   frito   groggily   venn   macbook   inanely   hubo   goofball   you've   she's   weren't   wasn't   we're   others'   you'll   should've   haven't   what's   you'd   they'd   man's   boys'   god's   woman's   fruit's   orion's   newton's   lincoln's   adam's   momma's   ******   jackson's   audis   dulces   disproportionately   charon's   deseos   avocadoes   hailey   eran   beatles'   ingles   he   she   it   rackets   --   hashtag   sixty-three   duct-tape   joysticks   sherman's   15   6th   32   500   7th   2013   extraño   barenaked   tamales   6-year-old   tierras   derpy   ewell   rom-com   themit's   adan   mudpits   puddlepits   war--hell   culp's   shitpits   completaron   chocolatada   levantanse   duraznos   n'sync   huevo   cholitos   levantaron   manzanas   endurece   wozniak's   dispara   nuez   open-endedness   innies   cankles   dunder-mifflin   tunks   buck-toothed   outies   grief-blown   a-gawking
I uploaded all of my past work onto the site already, so everything from here on out will be new and original. This is sort of an experimental idea of mine: take all the words hellopoetry has tracked for me, put it down as if it were a poem, and see how it flows. It actually kind of works sometimes, but I'm not sure. I'm sure it's mostly terrible, but I wanted to try it. Let me know what you think in the comments below!
ZinaLisha May 2014
I have always been called
a natural beauty
never seen the purpose
to cover my flaws
here I AM
imperfections and ALL.
I wear it well too........
all except this painted smile
Oh ...............yes................I forgot...........about................you
Paige Potts Mar 2010
Imperfections;
They makes us who we are.
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Imperfections
The kindest evidence the savior passed was the marks he bestowed in the most gentile articulation in this
His wise choices matched imperfection to our needs. One of the most telling attributes of women can be
Her hands but what if they are slightly marred the grace only flows to a deeper level quickness is
Replaced by deliberate action slower more thoughtful and profound a touch placed with this kind of
Feeling goes to a measure instantly felt it is not just the ordinary but a thing of force that unravels
Trouble mysteriously it finds the hidden knots looses them allows love to flow wide and full. Perhaps a
Man no longer strides with a power that has an assurance maybe he is depended on a stick for support
Where power is diffused it only changes channels it makes the heart stronger the eyes feel it too
Humanity in others is recessed the blunder the self efficiency drains from boisterous streams into calm
Assessment a flow that harnesses possibility not vain bravado that can at times wound those who are
Weaker and that are struggling. If times try men’s souls then imperfection can be a clarion call the
Placement of virtue at the lead where sometimes pride is the driving force this writing came from seeing
A woman walking in a sunny scene and she had a blotchy spot on her arm others could observe this and
Be to one degree or another repulsed but to the man who loves her it is a special calling card it
Touches makes the forces revel in a display that sets her apart from all others an instrument of sound
That separates from the den isolates carries a marker that generates tenderness, esteem, and honor
Thou art the tune and sound of a masterful violin play nothing else in my presence nothing else will do
Your imperfections makes another whole don’t ever fret over your special make up it is the breath and
The visitation of the divine in the human form boldly brushed in the shadow perfected by sun light.
The world is conceited, that's easy to see.
People as a whole living egotistically.
We live in an era of self-image, self-lust.
We create a fabric of our lives that's just not us.
We show ourselves as beautiful and hide from the flaws.
When the flaws are what make us, no matter how small.
So stop living behind a vanity screen and face the world without fear.
Someone will find you beautiful, the love of your life, drawn near.
To the flaws and imperfections they can't see behind a screen.
Taking selfies isn't helping.
You're somebody's dream.
Baylee Sep 2015
She sits with one leg
Crossed over the other,
Her hair is parted
Off-center,
But not enough to be
Considered a side-part.
Her smile is a little crooked
Because of a surgery she had
Years ago.
Her gait is a little awkward,
Especially when she runs,
And her hips aren't nearly
As wide as her personality.
She has a birth mark that
Most people would not
Say is aesthetically pleasing,
But regardless of her imperfections,
She is perfect to me.
NYC Dec 2014
Everyone craves perfection. But do you realize what is more perfect that perfection? Those beautiful imperfections of you. Living with them. Embracing them. Admiring them. And most importantly, being happy and contented with them. To me, this is more beautiful, this is more perfect and this is more YOU.
This one is for YOU! I know you are reading this and I just want to let you know that you are worth it. You are deserve all the happiness and love in the world. You are imperfect and trust me, I mean that as a compliment. Your imperfections make YOU. And that YOU is important, more real and more perfect.You are not alone.
Sridevi Dec 2010
Ah ! My Beloved
this logic pure and undiluted
does it have to cross paths ?
with my insanity
time and again…

Can it not memorize
the grammar of my imperfections?
embrace the lucidity
of my madness…

Can it not hear
the chaos howling
across my silences?


…Somewhere on the Eastern sky
Sawan lashes out all her frenzy
and I in mute agony
conclude this verse
chiseled with just

MY IMPERFECTIONS...
ln Aug 2014
Maybe it's the way the national flag flies so high
Despite the country's imperfections
Maybe it's the way we're united
Not separated, despite the difference in cultures,
Believes, traditions, languages

Maybe it's the way you see an Indian eating with chopsticks,
The way you see a Malay in a saree,
The way you see a Chinese making ketupat's for Hari Raya.

Maybe it's the unity you see,
Maybe it's the goosebumps you feel when you say Merdeka,
Maybe despite the hate you have towards history,
Deep down, you know how grateful you are to be Malaysian.

Maybe it's the way you walk into a mamak,
And say
" tauke tapau roti canai 1 milo ais 99 "
And maybe,
It lies in diversity,
Beyond everything else.

*Malaysia, tanah tumpahnya darahku.
Poetic Artiste Jul 2014
The Insecurities are flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind—
But the weeds keep growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
—Thoughts of a young child never knowing what to believe.

I lie awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling.
If only the notion could suffice in finding the words—
For the void I'm feeling in my life,
But it isn't simple.

Pure corruption of my mind,
Perfect pictures,
Flawless figures,
The images I can't erase.
Uncomfortable in my own skin—
What do I do to feel safe?

Do I drown myself in ink—to cover up the imperfections?
Instead of talking—walk and let my skin scream the self-expression?

Or do I return to the blank stare in the mirror?
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?

The insecurities keep flourishing.
A gorgeous garden was my mind,
But the weeds kept growing in.
Media like kryptonite—weakening my self esteem.
Thoughts of a young child,
--Never knowing what to believe.

One night as I lie awake—I hear my subconscious scream out to me.
The most attractive people do the ugliest of things,
The true beauty you want is what’s imprisoned within.
Why stop your happiness to return to a place—
—A place where you feel so alone?
Why do the tears flow?
You're killing yourself—
And you fail to realize
Your own self-doubt is the knife!
Pessimism,
The negative thoughts building inside—
They’re just as bad as the razorblade that kisses your skin as you sit in silence...
Why are you hurting yourself?
Temporary pain is only a distraction,
You were blessed and shaped by the hands of God.
What more could you possibly ask for?

Appearance is not everything.—
Stop the self-consciousness and live your life.
—acknowledge that you —are your worst —enemy...

I open my eyes.
The cries have ceased,
I return to the blank stare in the mirror.
The words are on repeat.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful—when I myself can’t see?
Who am I to think I'm valuable—when there is no self-confidence there?
Who am I to think I'm worthy—when I myself don't feel?

But it’s different this time,
My reflection speaks.
Saying no—
Who are you not to?
Your imperfections are beautiful.
Beautiful enough for the heart that is meant to love you,
Believe in yourself.
No more self doubt,
No more lost soul.

—No more insecurities flourishing,
A gorgeous garden is my mind.
No more weeds keep growing in,
Media is not my kryptonite,
No more weakening of my self esteem,
Thoughts of a young child finally unshackled —and free.
Cné Dec 2017
~
O Painter
with thy own eye
                        would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
            and blemishes true

Load thy brush
                      with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
                  bethought, in deep

With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
                  and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
               of deep forest green

O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
       and the indigo moon.

Paint me as i standeth,
       prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might

Paint me in the optimistic
                             silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
                              of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal

O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
                            in a rainy drizzle

Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken

Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
         with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon

O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
                               in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
             of a quite quaint butterfly

Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
                to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.

Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******

Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;

Study mine own dry sorrow
                              in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.

O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print

Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too

~
When I paint, I’m never quite satisfied as I see all my mistakes, blemishes and colors not quite right. I tend to keep painting to try and get it all right. At some point, I arrive with the conclusion, if I keep going I’m going to mess it up. I stand across the room and, it’s then that I’m amazed at what I have created. I like to think that I’m seen in the same way by my creator.
Ron Gavalik May 2017
‪I don't just love you;‬
I love your imperfections,
those hard memories
beneath kind eyes,
when I watch you
gaze out my window
every morning
j a s Jan 2016
“but it is your imperfections,” he said, his voice soothing rivers and his eyes like a candle lit in dark; but he would not leave ―― for his eyes were like an endless labyrinth and he would never die out. and one would get lost again and again in his eyes for they had this depth that one could not help but get curious about. and once one were to be too far in; there was no way out, not from left nor right but forced to continue stalking down the road of his chocolate eyes. they were like poison, she thought, a beautiful poison, that is. perhaps it was a poison of happiness, she had yet to be sure, but there was a flaw in it all ―― one she was really sure about.
too much happiness could intoxicate, and his eyes, they intoxicated her; left her heart skyrocketing and perhaps that was why she had tried to pull away but stopped altogether for he would not let her go. no ―― he would shower her with words of love and she kept coming back for more and more for she strangely liked it, loved it even.  
“ ―― that i cherish; you set this hurricane inside of me and you would not leave, but you know what?” he was smiling now, his lips curving upward, gracing her eyes and everything around him for there were suddenly blinding lights everywhere. and his eyes ―― they were not candles anymore, no, they wer crystals; gleaming and glowing and sparkling.
“ ―― i don’t mind, in fact i don’t mind at all ―― for i love it and i don’t mind having every tiny piece of you gracing my veins because my love, this ――” his delicate fingers were moving on their own accord and pointing between the two of them, “whatever this is, i’ll make sure that it never burns out, but in the meantime, my love, i’ll love your imperfections and i won’t mind reminding you everyday that you’re important, but most importantly ―― you’re beautiful.” and he wished, wished so badly that he could stuff the empty girl with all the word’s light and make her see, just like he did, how utterly and breathtakingly beautiful she was. no matter her imperfections ―― they just added to her blinding beauty.
this is for the girl that fails to see how beautiful she really is
Annie McLaughlin Jan 2016
When you do stand
so close, so bare
fingers weaving through
my filaments of hair.

When you do inhale
the extras and the
uncensored imperfections

When you do break
thus incandescent sweat
that shivers from yours to mine

I do hope you may see
The love and trust
and compassion felt
that you could find in me.
mark john junor May 2014
in a setting sun
reflected with imperfections on the lake
she waits under the summer tree
its lively conversation with the wind
stirs shadows and returns lost memories to her
like wayward children asking for bread and a sip

her fathers stern voice on a cold night
her first kiss by moonlight at bible camp
her cat's purr
these things come back to her in a rush
but the stillness of her face undisturbed
her's is a setting sun
reflected by the lake with imperfections

night is a sour brother to day and sits heckling
her from the window
that she should endure the hour alone
that her time fallow ground
the seeds scattered without care
but her hand scatters to her sleeping poet
and rests reassured on his feverish brow

she draws his form in fine lines and shadows
a black and white reflection of imperfection sleeping
she lingers with her smile
and by moonrise she is curled up in his arms
both dreaming reflections of the days reality's
but dreams are imperfect messengers of meaning
and hers is stuttering images of yesterday

in a rising sun
perfectly perceived
her bare skin wakes him
with anticipations of lustful hungers
he sees only her perfections
sees only the bright beauty of her body and soul
that is his imperfection
we are all slaves to our sunset's
we are all hopeful children of our dawn's
they are both imperfect
but together they are perfectly imperfect
Leave your imperfections
that I might know that you are human
That your stumblings
might resound a warmth unto my heart

Thy errs find grace
and forgiveness
in the steps I tread
before you

For I was no better
nay worse
than the efforts of your globe
of conjecture

My golden orb
fails in warmth
As I dreams of avenues
and cobblestone alleys

Of love of those
I know not any more
**** , this curse of time's
finagling abomination !

Yet I find hope
in the rebirth and youth
Let two souls come together
and remake the world anew

As for my glory
It comes down to reason
and the hope
that our imperfections remain intact
God made us imperfect for a reason .
Sara Jones Apr 2015
Never tell me of my imperfections.
For it is my imperfections that make me who i am.

Dont make fun of the way i scratch my nose or wiggle my toes.
The idiosyncrasies i have make me what i am and what i will become.

Or rather who I will become.
Because I am not a what or will or whim or a dream.
I am a human just being in time and space.

Flittering around on a pinpoint of a globe I call home because I don't know what else to do with my existence.

I didnt come out of the womb knowing exactly what i would do one day.
Nor did I come knowing of all the lives I would impact upon.
I didnt come knowing who i am and how my personality would affect My lifespan.

I came out with sparkles in my eyes and a hunger to prove i belong in a society that doesn't want to approve of anyone in the first place.

They say that all little white girls like me are privileged.
Though they know everyone has a different struggle.
Society is a hypocrite.

One second it'll say that people like me are accepted.
The cracked, the gay, the rebel.
But then it's confused.
Because I'm pale white with blonde hair and blue eyes.
How could this mixture even be?

I dyed my hair when I was young because I was tired of being called ditzy.
I wore colored contacts because I thought my eyes were to bright for such a somber world.
It wasn't until I was older.

It wasn't until I was wiser.
That I realized that there is no such thing as society.
The brain is so complex and we are all so focused on fitting in that we created an invisible standard for ourselves.

Blacks are "ghetto"
Whites are "privlaged"
And every other racial color is bled from the picture.
Society,
This invisible standard,
Started hounding me from a young age, telling me my thighs and arms were always to big.

Or that I was less because I didn't wear makeup everyday like every other 15 year old trying to fit in.
The invisible standard would cut me down until I cut myself open at the seams.
Bleeding onto the pages of textbooks and papers that I need to "get somewhere" in life.

Bleeding onto those job applications that say that you need experience to earn the experience to get experience for the job that you need to pay for the student loans you had to get in order to earn that degree to get the job.

The invisible standard tells me that little pale skined, blonde haired, blue eyed girls like me who can't handle their ***** need to always look over their shoulder otherwise I'll be taken or drugged or *****.

That all little girls fathers have to stand at the door holding a shotgun telling a boy that he's not good enough for her.

But why
Isn't that the question.
Why does the father have to hold the shotgun?
Can't he raise her well enough that she knows a healthy relationship from a harmful one?

Or can he raise her well enough to know if a boy is treating her right or wrong?

The invisible standard we have set for ourselves is telling each of us we don't belong in the world.
That all of these pale white girls with blonde hair and blue eyes are fragile

But at the same time they are the dumb ones.

Obviously if I was dumb I wouldn't be here.
If I was what society has called me out to be I wouldn't be over a piece of paper pouring words from my psyche onto it with such a force that shook the foundation of society itself.

Because that's the thing about this invisible standard.

There's nothing that you actually have to prove to it because it doesn't even exisit.

— The End —