"mascaraed" poems
The possessor of a weapon that kills all.
Slashing the backs of those once loved.
Leaving the innocent with open wounds.
They do it with no regrets; it’s a mind game.
Life to them is like an everyday mascaraed.
There will be no peaceful revolution.
Beware the backstabbers who slay the night.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
when some said hello
some said ha ha,
said holmes without sherlock to signal a sighting
in signature of fingerprinting a shake;
but some said hello,
some shook some with stipend erased freezing;
after all... the doctor allowed a carcass to instil a freed numbness!
a clown frowned attempting to be picky with laughter
mascaraed, and then all hell ready to be hibernating yawned
ready from the hyperbole excused ******* a tadpole into thinking of frogs.
oh we loved the laugh the pouch of orange juiced pulled apart and pulped
into skins and skinny; we were all ready for a hajj there and then!
ha ha! make that scented with coriander!
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Tears of gin
Stream down my face
Pine needles scratch
My throat's embrace
On the words I once
Knew how to say
I'm hopelessly trying to
Reiterate.
Tuck me in
Lay me down
In the bed
I'll slowly drown
Your words are weak
They pass me by
I'm so so sorry
Liquor, I cry
Morning next
Mascaraed face
Turns to look
At her weathered mate
Thank you baby
I'm sorry I
Had too much to drink-
It's fine
sigh
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
you don't mind the glass beneath your feet
or the bomb strapped to your chest
ticking second by second like your very own
metronome trying to harmonize the noise
inside your head
the gag inside your mouth feels real to you
but no one steps aside to help you untie
the purpled hands behind your back
and you wonder why no one can see
all the pretty girls strung to banisters
with their lipsticked mouths gaped with
muted screams and mascaraed eyes
bulged by Death's medusa-gaze
at the top of the staircase is a noose with
your name - Jane
and as you tiptoe up the steps, the faces
of the corpses blend and coalesce
into one generic image - a girl no one
remembers beyond her death - and you
realize once your neck snaps you're nothing
more than a statistic
the rope tightens and you join
the data set - the only place you've
ever felt you belonged
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
You are a mascaraed
a blank mistake
milking my love for your own hearts sake
I wonder if affection was the case
or was lust the only motive
the way I parted the seas much like I was Moses
I thought you would never deceive
I believed that you were the one for me
my one and only
Turns out I wasn't your one
now I'm lonely
reminiscing on a past that's was phony
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 12:16 PM UTC
"My children were mascaraed with blood spurting in a disarray,
a nightmare flashing freshly with every passing night,
and the man's blazing eyes ignited with inevitable
pure evil --if there exists such a thing,
and my faith in humanity subsides,
my heart snatched out of my aching body,
for I am an unsuspecting, wounded mother."
But involuntarily,
for a fraction of a second,
her lips quiver in glee.
"It was beautiful;
their screams of agony,
my control over their lives,
and sweet fear
reflected in their eyes--
my eyes."
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
My skin is cold as thawing ice
frozen, fixed, and bleak
the world is broken under my feet
where did life go so wrong
I’m boxed six feet deep
in a dark crumpled creep
dreams mascaraed as light
forbidden light I can not see
one day my past appears
in my treasured hope
from once shinning eyes
how the hours past me by
in this requiem a song
chiming in the wind of time
tempered like stained glass
forever, forever at last
Shouts of Barabus, say not!
low my soul tis not I, behold
the cross, rising on the hill
Golgotha the blood running
A lamb before the slaughter
“Screams” of He died! He Lied!
I…silently died with him too
At his feet nailed and bent
I hear a shuttered cry
“Forgive them they know not what they do”
My brokenness once firmly in the ground
rises quickly bursting in light
Alas my King, my God tis you
every prayer spoken is true
The golden streets I craved
mine, all for the life you gave
BB2015
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
Laying in the garden of the man who sold me my dreams
I watch as the moon crests over me
I think of all the things I have yet to say
Dear, Night. When did you become today?
Sitting in the dinner listening to that Bright Eyes song
Life seems so short but the days mascaraed as long
So I put down my change and look for a song to play
Dear, Night. When did you become today?
Walking the pavement towards the oranging skies
I watch the sunrise like the lids above your eyes
When you see my worried face, ask if I'm okay
Dear, Night. When did you become today?
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
I love it.
But grow trees to adumbrate it’s anima.
To force a mascaraed upon its glow.
Tarp my elation for it.
It’s guttural.
I feel my definition eave when I do it.
Alien cliques called societal norms.
Make such a scintillating activity, abnormal.
I hurt no one through such a cosmetic lust.
Fabric is not a great medium for harm.
I cringe at such struggles.
For gender roles and such.
One shouldn’t care of what other think.
God knows I’m a hypocrite to state that.
I want to share my “taboo” with someone dear.
I need to.
Anyone who struggles with personal enjoyment.
Doing things that are no harm to others, but are considered deviant.
I would love to leave you with a quote.
“I am human, nothing human is alien to me.”
Where whatever clothes you want to.
Love whoever you want to with their consent.
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 11:58 AM UTC
A picture paints a thousand words
But a single word holds a million meanings
Than one day a God made of love decided to create us
Spoke a single word
And there we were
And if He is love
Than every uttered syllable
And deepening breath would hold a form of love
From a hug of a brother
To a kiss from a lover
And if we were breathed love
Doesn't that make us programmed of it
Something so familiar yet unknown
Amazing and dangerous
The joy of some
And the death of most
A poisonous sting like a bite from a snake
Awaiting its victim
In the shadows coming from nowhere
Love is like that beautiful girl at a mascaraed party
Alluring but hidden
With a playful smile
And teasing fingers
A charade of the heart
and a game never won
A vial trickery
Aimed at the soul
Striking excitement and fear
A keep quiet display
Often causing pain
Dodging lies
And forced feelings
It happens in the blink of an eye
Or like a soft slow hymn
Lulling you to sleep for the last time
Arms wrapped around the idea of forever
while the morn holds your soon to be cries
And if all love is
Is broken pieces of a tale told once to many times over
Why do we still choose to feel it?
Why do we still linger in the smell of a lovers grasp
Full knowing it may tear us down
We are fools
Lost in the idea that love alone can heal us
And maybe it can
But is it worth the risk to find out?
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
Pie eyed, pout mouth
butterfly wings all crushed
a little girl's hand squeezed shut—
Who are you now? Mascaraed
to the death, to the death.
A young white girl slung on a pole,
a princess hung by the neck,
mannequin?
Who is your puppeteer,
does he beat you black and blue?
Does he do that to you?
Does he tell you he loves you like I do?
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
How much longer will my stairs be able to hide my problems?
Up, up, up, they go! Face? Are you still hanging on, even by only a last mascaraed lash? Say what you want, but spiders are in.. At least that's what the street kids and i
philosophise. It's time for the cob webs to do their dance, there is no meaning.
I only have minutes left, 3:48 to be exact.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
I saw him at the theatre,
an act he gave,
consisting of a mouse at a mascaraed.
I saw him at the amusement park,
playing at the arcade,
I saw his smile grow as he won the game.
I knew that smile,
way back when,
he smiled at people he knew,
and those he didn't; he did the same too.
Lost in his smile, I always had,
a deep connection with that man,
but his eyes are where the real soul stands,
and without it he was bland.
Last time I saw him,
I never had a chance,
lost in his own eyes,
he waited for her to come.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
History is old, but there are many stories that never got told,
There are things that no one will ever know,
I ask myself why the world is this position, what build up made this transition?
History books stitching bits of information together,
Missing so many pieces, they placed things where they wanted, told the teachers and they taught it, and we all bought it
But now I can’t help but to dawn on it.
Lies mascaraed the truth, we’ve beaten people black and blue just so you can do what you do,
This whole country was founded on hate,
No wonder so many people are stuck in a negative space,
They say we have freedom but there is reason none of us are speaking up, we’re stuck,
Tied to money, like cinder blocks on our feet, we sink,
Our foundation made of our ancestors bones, we sit on top of it like a throne of lies
You’re on the top of the pyramid no surprise, how many people did you have to step on to get that high?
You’re low, beneath the ground, hell bound, I don’t even believe in it
But the way people are getting treated is excused as convenience,
It’s a repetitive, destructive sequence,
Screaming at high frequency
Can you see?
Or are you as blind as they’ll let you be.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
My heart strains for the red
of your body, not mine
just an ounce more to keep it pumping
just enough to keep us alive... one more time
But the clock ticks, and the blood drips
of my body, not his
it's a mascaraed, a fiasco
and the death of what is
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC