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Lucas Jul 2018
Your origami snapper came along
tucked into my wallet
things like that don't travel well
but I managed
they suffered a lesion to the spine
snappers are apparently weak there
maybe we can work on growing a backbone together

handmade gifts mean the most
less, when it was made in whimsy and flimsy
more, because it gave me false hope
maybe it's a sign
like a uke-playing octopus
maybe friendship is all I need right now
your origami snapper is a great listener

It sits on my desk
Either mocking or pondering, I can’t tell
Snappers are hard to read that way
Maybe if we showed more emotion you’d
           notice

but action requires reaction
and somehow the origami rose I made forgot it’s origami thorns
But there could be blood on my hands
From a beautiful friendship I so recklessly slaughter
pulling up roots like weeds
adding wistful thinking to inimitable memories
A uke-playing octopus is a memory and metaphor for the first time I ever flirted with someone — it seemed relevant
Hummingbird Oct 2019
Fold me like you always have,
Run your nails to set the creases,
Shape me to the form you crave,
Bend me into the art of your wishes,

My form forever yours to toy with,
I conform to your will and desire,
Expose my surfaces, above or beneath,
I will always be there for you to admire,

I can be flexible or I can be stiff,
That depends on what you want,
I am here to help fill your rift,
The one who says you can when you can’t,

Craft that which you seek of me,
I am but your art, your origami.
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
A waste paper bin
Left in the corner.
Containing little folded up letters,
Discarded as the heart was.

A gang of  stupid teenage vandals having a laugh,
Disregarded what they had done.
Disposed of the butts irresponsible after having  their smokes,
In the bin.
Not doused.
The silly lads.
Wandered away.
They did not see the smouldering,
the burning in that bin
The origami scraps,
Folded as swans,
Too charred to fly away.
Sadly written on the innards of the origami swans,
Words carried on love letters never to be seen again.
Their love was carried away on a puff of white smoke.
(c) Livvi
Mike Hauser Jul 2014
sitting at the table
making origami birds
with empty foster labels
untold are his words

she floats onto the dance floor
like the awakening of a dream
a single stitch in time
a moment in a need

she turns her smile upon him
a glimmer in the moon
holds her hand out to him
a hush falls on the room

he folds the last seam on the wing
the edge is good and tight
they step onto the balcony
sending origami birds to flight
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
Creases and folds
Rich lustrous strokes
Bold soft voices spoke
Touch like a ring of gold

In sheets we make things
Crumpled and messy
Like a raging tsunami
A delight in all human beings

Slapping and slammings
A rhythm worth hearing
The pounding and bounding
Sweet pleasurable pain it brings

Beyond what a body could
Handle and take it would
For it is what we wanted
Like a forbidden affair sorted

The melodious chorus
Of wails and moans
The harmonious beating
With stick and stones

Like origami birds
We bend and break
To cure our heart aches
For we are like paper burned

Ashes we become so far
Fragmented in the wind we are
For we never ever will be
As happy as anyone thought it to be

For like origami birds we are
Folded and bent to hold so far
Manipulated by love and hate
Blinded by our own cruel mistakes

We will tear and break
Like every paper bearing weight
Flying into the winds of fate
And burning into the pits of heart break.
I just broke up with him. :/ Guess it was always one-sided. And the worst thing is I found a rebound to whom I took advantage of. Although he knew that I just did broke up with my ex, he kept insisting on pushing himself to me. I just don't know what to do anymore.
Gaby Comprés Jan 2018
‘this is my heart,’ i tell you.
you hold it between your hands.
‘be gentle, be kind, be soft,’ i want to tell you.
i smile,
i let you believe it is strong and unbreakable.
but this heart,
my heart,
is made of paper,
light, fragile and easily breakable.
it is bendable,
and often tries to fold itself and look smaller than what it is.
an origami heart.
when you unfold it,
you can see the creases love left,
you can trace with your hand the exact place where pain left its mark,
you can read the stories left in the lines.
and still,
despite it all,
my origami heart, my paper heart
is a work of art.
Nathan Mar 2017
Origami cranes
Fly towards the crescent moon
Amongst paper clouds
Ting-Jun Jul 2013
I folded what remained
of my weak paper heart
and made an origami elephant
hoping to create a façade
of being stronger than
I really was.

*Never forgetting,
but always moving on.
zebra Jul 2018
like cellophane wraps hard candy
like ink loves to dry
like hot sauce drenches noodles
like sunrise casts shadows
like band-aids sooth cut flesh
like irons crease linens
like origami folds paper
like water floats boats
like a tempest loves a teapot
like syrup and bananas drench waffles
like spoons love soup
like cats love fish
like french fries love ketchup
like wild girls dance
like a crow loves road ****
like eyes love beauty
like a circle loves a square
like buttered buns fit a bikini
like a kissed mouth hungers for wet lips
like moths love a flame
like dogs love *******
and like ******* hug butts

like howling ******* pulse hearts
like vampires love blood and castles
like dark grapes ferment in bubbling cauldrons
like madness loves a straight jacket
like a ***** loves a ****
and music gets you dancing

like suns fall through cobalt night all smashing diamonds
  
that's
how i love you
love
Frisk Jan 2014
you draw your self hatred out like a kid draws out small pictures
and play double dutch with the hands on a clock, knowing how
unsafe it is out there, flirting with death and flicking me off when
i wrote out the reasons why you should stay, that this autumn fallout
is only a misconstruction of your mind's witching hour, that dystopia
won't linger and utopia will be home soon, it will blossom into your lungs
and turn the simplicity of your broken soul into something completely
quintessential and complex, like an origami rabbit, i fold my sharp edges
and twist myself to be malleable and secure for you, maybe i'm not too certain
of myself or you, but i'm not too certain on a lot of subjects, i'm worried
of being thrown into the arsonist world you started, covering up the sky with
black dense fog, the type of fog that would happen only in dangerous wildfires
i'm a controlled wildfire, but i let my fire spread just to help control your fire

- kra
babydulle Jan 2014
He told me he stopped smoking.
Threw away the packs of Mayfair
into the river next to his house.
The river where we once spent the evening
talking about why stars align the way they do,
As if they know what they are doing.
Neither of us knows what we are doing.

We are tea stained maps,
And fragile lungs,
And he is bruised fingertips from writing ‘I don’t love you. I’m sorry.’
I am shallow breaths in early winter.
Waking up at five to five to wait for the sun to rise.

He is made of sugar cubes
And campfires;
Glowing in the dead of the night
As if they have a right
To be the main attraction.
We are 3am scribbles in notebooks

And origami warriors.
You folded me so easily
With your piano playing fingers.
And when I wasn’t looking,
You made me into a boat and pushed me onto that same river.
Lit matches for a sail and finally, let me burn.
Paper people crackling and folding
Under life's pressure
Blank pages, empty paper void of purpose
Paper flowers, swans, trees and cranes
Craning to find a crease that fits them
Brittle dry leaves waiting to be made into a purpose
Feint margins replace the wrinkles of a face
Origami organisms awaiting nimble fingers
To form features, emotions, life, purpose
Like a Samurai sword, the paper has been folded many times
Yet now blunted, pulped, set alight by a match, reduced to ash.
© JLB
pencaricahaya Oct 2014
A wish unfulfilled
She'll never be reached
But we'll keep on flying
Higher and higher
Above the clouds
Beyond the horizon
Till the air turns thin
Where like blade cuts the wind
We'll keep on rising
Higher and higher
Till our hearts turn blue
Till the blue turns black
And then white: nothing
And then perhaps
We could touch her heart
In the beautiful land of the rising sun they believe cranes live a thousand years, and if you fold a thousand origami cranes (one for each of their years) one wish of yours will come true.
Folding them didn't make my wish come true, but I guess wishing for a heart is wishing too much. So I set them free to roam the sky, maybe that way they'll reach something I can't.
- Pencaricahaya.
A thousand origami cranes grants the maker one wish.
One wish to be granted on the paper wings folded and tucked with care.
Eternal good luck is granted say others.
A legend born and borne by the wings of a bird.
What would I wish for after making a thousand paper cranes?
I'd wish that each crane flew away,
saw beauty and love as it dipped over mountains,
swooped over fields, and sang at dawn.
After all hanging by string, being made of paper,
just means that the maker and her birds are waiting.
Waiting to be let from their cage.
© JLB
30/01/2015
02:51 GMT
Torin Apr 2016
At the age of twenty one I was folding
I had no plans
And my dreams
Caused me pain
And how many times before
I bend and never break
Never with a plan

I built for myself
A way to escape
Origami wings
Beautiful
And useless

I couldn't play the cards I was dealt
I was folding
Under stress
And hands of strangers
And all my many folds
Create something meaningful
I've become a paper crane

Folding chairs
And folding tables
Origami wings
Beautiful
But useless
Ann Beaver Aug 2013
Half my head is shaved
The other half is bruised
You're a 2D
Paper cutout
Not yet origami
Looking for folding schemes
You don't know you're lost, it seems.
And I am no dotted-line-edition
It's all just simple addition:
Platitudes only get you thumbnail deep
Half my head is shaved
The other half, you can keep.
Tom Leveille Apr 2014
let it not be confused
let no one else's name
ring throughout these sentences
let this be a hatchet
let me put this to rest
this is not a test
i don't want to think
about shipwrecks anymore
i am tired of folding apologies
into origami birds
and placing them
at the headstones to your tantrums
this is not is not geology class
these are promises
written on razorblades
      & if you are getting choked up
        then maybe you should be

maybe we should be buried
with our telescopes face down
my mouth is full of sorry
all for being honest
we are falling out of orbit
we are burning bystanders
so cast away your callous condolences
because no one is clapping
in this waist deep water
this is not a baptism
so do not tell strangers
that this was a chance to drown
any differently
i am not a catalogue
of constellations you cannot name
this is not mythology
so stop believing your horoscope
i am not a wishing well
i am just a wall for you
to paint post nuclear fallout & antonyms for catharsis on
we destroy the things
that are not ours-
the wanton ways
we embody wrecking *****
and then cry over the rubble
this is not a heap or a mosaic
this is leaping
off a thousand story building
with no one to catch you
at the bottom & maybe
that's why some quiet moments
are so fragile, maybe that's why butterflies have mimicry
your words are black powder
and poetry is your musketry
i guess that makes me your blindfold
Joe Roberts Jun 2012
Fold it, like paper,
into whatever.
Unfold it later,
and fold it again.

Today it's a bird,
tomorrow a box,
a flower next week,
whatever you want.

Fold it like paper,
as long as you swear,
that you'll never tear,
my origami heart.
'Origami heart' is a poem about unconditional and subservient love, and a plea that the offered heart will not be broken.
Matthias Feb 2011
Oh how I am perfectly formed my edges caressed, shaped, and placed in a pattern by a steady hand. Set on a shelf for those who came across the sea, to see and purchase me. I am propped between two, one a dragon and the other a swan. I sit quietly to be picked and loved. I long to sink some root down but at last I realize how I am not truly able to do that. Growing is not in my character; I am more a caricature, only there to express spring. My petals sing with bright colors to distract the eye. That way I can trick a sojourning soldier trying to stay alive into buying this fake glory. I am holding onto the idea of being real and seal the thought of not feeling this hole deep within my papers seams. Seen as a work of art only represents time spent, more like wasted. The taste of lies fills your heart and I am glad only because you see me sitting crowded between many things. Things not creatures; created by an earthy man humbly bowing over plain sheets. I was once in that place waiting to be created. Thinking of what I might be: A plane to soar across great plains and over seas, a frog with bent knees hoping from a sense of jubilee, or even a crane bending great distances from the tops of trees. Yet I meekly was pressed into the meadows stars. Shinning on a summers day, listening to the children play. How we sway to a cool breeze, to tease the rocks and grass only seen through a magnifying glass. Sounds great but that’s only what I see from my ledge of a home. Out the windowsill I see me as I wish to be. Yet still I sit quietly thinking that will never be, for I am just a fake flower charming known as origami.
Chloe K Jun 2013
“Just don’t leave marks,” we said,
Profiles illuminated by the hazy Manhattan skyline.
Wine trickled down our sides
As I learned I’m just a number in your phone
So maybe I’m just someone for you to ****
But *******, does it feel thick and rooted.
I’ll press your words back onto your skin
So you’ll know I’m not just a myth,
I’ve been here all along in the echo of everything you do.
I filtered life through a colander
And you’re all that was left.
I’m open and star-shaped for you.
If you’ll hold my hand in a diner,
Will you hold it in central park?
Let our lips realign,
Let me wrap you up again
Let me fold into you like origami spoons.
Nigel Morgan Oct 2012
I
 
Fold upon fold
your origami letters
map  thoughts,
images and moments
of three days,
two nights.
 
Now to unfold
the creased trajectories,
intersecting space,
following time:
bird-like flightpaths
on the radar screen.
 
Each coloured sheet,
placed on this desk,
becomes a tessellated diary,
and grows beneath the hand.
So generous a gift.
So readily received.

II
 
Ah, that's your secret:
the power of the list;
 this, then this,
 then freedom follows,
 knowing the necessaries
 dusted and done.

  Peaceful now,
  and watching the clouds
  cross the skylight,
  Bach decorates your soul
  with his meditations
  on the possibility of everything.

  How did you guess
  I love the detail of life-
  lived, up to the hilt:
  the embellishment of dreams
  pulled from the ether,
  sound and sense in tow.
 
III
 
I travelled North
in the seat opposite.
You didn’t notice me
as you gazed
through your reflection,
sighting the past.

When you look at me
you rarely blink or
glance away (as people do).
Poor nature,
She hasn’t a chance, has she?
Never a mote missed.

As my passenger
I shall care for your silence;
to let you loose on
unbidden thoughts
as they rise above
the scrolling hills.
The Origami Letters is a sequence of 27 poems and an afterword.
Patricia Drake Mar 2013
My world is folded
My mind is bent
Manipulated by
And itself
manipulating language
To counter the real
The brutal
With fragile structures

Language
A simple
Immaculate beauty
Though filthy at times
It can be turned
And flexed
with verbs and adverbs
Mistakes can be erased

Folded and written
My mind
This world
Where we meet
Is beauty
Imagined and executed
It is my escape
Stu Harley Aug 2017
Still
You
Rise
Above
The
Origami clouds
Paper moon
today I read a story about a man
with a br
oken heart.

I compared him to me
and you
and I
to us

what we were
what we tried to be
what you thought I was...

I'm glad I lost it

because, he is not you
but then again.
I'm not really her either.

I screamed against the wind
heard my voice echo
memories echoed

I walked to the park bench
and I hoped to find you there

In the streets
and the rain
I danced
and sang your name
hoping that you would show

In the midst of all this chaos,
I really hoped that you would show
.

I asked the ocean to let me drink from her.
She said that it's a sin to drink alone/

I saw how the ocean swallowed the sun
and he allowed it
(because he was alone, or lonely?)

I considered following suit.

I fell onto my back
I watched the origami in the sky
and I killed memories I never had.
galaxy of myths Mar 2017
You keep folding yourself in. Like origami, you turn into various art sculptures. You change so you'll remain hidden and unseen but I'm an observer. I see how with every fold, I make a mental note of it.

How spectacular; you fold to hide but to me you're an art exhibition. The more you try to stay low-key, the more awestruck I get. So how, my dear, do you think you're uninteresting, unloved, unentertaining when your very being is a field I'm studying? You're art.

-m.b
Alyna Sep 2014
is a beautiful art
but
you can only fold the paper
so many times
before it rips
Cedric Chin Oct 2023
You seemed to bear a grudge against
Every paper crane that left my hands.

Reverse origami, you said,
Gleefully unfolding my creations.

"An examination of purpose —
An exercise in deconstruction!"

Big words, I thought, casually refolding.

Small man.
Part of my book, The Good Knight & His Sore Rose.
Heart of Silver May 2018
Close your eyes

Your world, not extending
beyond the soft quilt under
your skin, unending


Soft ripples of cloth, and picturesque seams
Nothing here but
You, me, the sky, and soft dreams

I'll reach up and take the stars from the sky
If only to lay them at your feet
to place them in your hands
to bring light into those glazed eyes
or give a glow to a world so bland

and each one would be folded
into a beautiful origami castle
I, the lord, and you, the vassal
Or perhaps me as the king
and you as a queen, whichever
My gentle playmate.. which one is better?

I'm a majestic creature of the sky
You're an empty-faced child on a quilt
Each star shall be used as a stepping stone
so I might meet you in the place I built


Let us meet, as lovers, or
at least equals
on this starry floor
And your body falls into each soft fold
It's here, right here, that I can hold
you close, keep you safe and warm
so you, from the rest of the world
I'll withhold

Consider this a "romantic poem".. but not about me! Actually, this is a story I've sort of written. :)

Hmm, let me try to describe it. A little girl living in a world all her own, a world that's nothing more than an empty quilt with an endless sky. Above her, lives a sort of "sky-creature" and he happens to be in love with her, so he builds her a castle of stars.
m4tt Feb 2015
Two bits of cardboard stuck onto each other.
Perfectly fitting, but you unmake me sober.

Three double bends with the bone folder.
A figure of a bird, and his broken cage lying in the corner.
Always wip, real noob, not native speaker al corrections-suggestions more than welcome.

— The End —