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Shofi Ahmed Jun 2017
Looking at the
         satellite picture
                    it looks clear.
                       The earth is a blue
                                  drop of water!

                                    Did the sun paint
                 the shades of this blue dew
            dot years.
       Still, the ****** shines
   in same old
unfading colour!
Megan Apr 2018
I tried to take a picture
Of everyday I was with you
I tried to take a picture
Of all the happiness you bring

I tried to take a picture
Of the flowers that you sent
The ones that were red
With that very strong scent

I tried to take a picture
Of the day that shined so bright
The way the sun radiated yellow
Giving us its light

I tried to take a picture
Of the nights by the lake
Where we sat in the blackened dark
Smoking getting baked

I tried to take a picture
Of the smile on my face
But I turned the camera around
To hide the clear but staining tears that raced

I tried to take a picture
Of the love around me,dear
But an uncompromising flash burnout
Causes me fear

I tried to take a picture
Of the happiness you bring
But what I captured
Was the truth and its sting
Jessica May 2018
You think so low, you must with the
blows that you throw.

I'm not one of your old hoes.
As you can sit back like you counting those
crows, as I sit here in all my woes.  Keeping
me on my toes.  

Making me feel all these lows, but '
that is how life goes.  Hoping that you are not
wanting  this chapter to come to a close.
At the end I'm not the one to play pretend,
you just don't know that you .  You are
our god send.  So run away with us , and
lets not fuss and start a bigger chapter staring us.
abby Jun 8
sometimes I wish I could wipe the identity off of my face
throw away the picture and buy a new frame
but instead I wash my face only to reveal a more concentrated version of me
I used to know who I was
nightdew Mar 14
you were my picture perfect fairytale,
and i'd die a million times just to see you,
in my dreams by my side.
xoxo dearest lover
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2018
Mirror, mirror!
You are so clear.
Pure like clear water
I see not your colour.

'You can see my inside
it's your picture!'
It whispers to a candle
curiously burning
in front of the mirror!
Steve Page Sep 7
Before you take up your blade, Sharon
who do you see?
Will you be cutting to heal
or incising to free
some carefully hidden,
some up-til-now unbidden me?

When you take up your blade
and test the fresh edge
do you have an image of a me
fixed in your head?
Can you see in your mind
a kinda-me roughly out sketched?

When you make your first cut
do you have a clear vision
of what I'll reveal
have you made your decision
as you press down and carefully cleave
with loving conceiving precision?

When you lay your blade down
do you see I've appeared?
Do you know I'm complete
when the excess is cleared?
Or when you sleep do you wonder
whether there's a less of a me
maybe a more of a me
silently waiting here?
You need to see Sharon Walter's art to fully understand this.  She cuts away at images to reveal something new.  Quite remarkable.
www.londonartist1.com
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
Every now and then
life gives you
a living and breathing
moment of poetry
be sure to read it
be sure to appreciate
that perfectly clear moment
of beauty and love
it doesnt happen often
and it doesn't last long
but the memory
can last beyond eternity
if you paint a picture
of it in your heart
Sachiko Jul 2018
He looked at his object with an eye.
So, he came closer to clarify.
An angle that will compliment for each element.
A product that can make a statement.
He chose the bright colors to incorporate.
Because her smile suited a great light.
He focused the subject, and suddenly it was fading.
She was started running.
Running, from the picture perfect life that he created.
She was a medium of unrealistic bliss.
And found herself out of nowhere.
People envied her but they didn’t know the  truth.
She was missing the unfiltered life.
She spaced out, and her heart was bruised.
He was definitely imaginative.
And fooled by unreachable perspective.
He looked at his object with an eye.
Thinking, with her was a root of a great life.
I wrote this during the fall season, and at the same time my brother and his girlfriend broke up. And that situation was my inspiration to just write as I see him every single day trying to figure out all the answers to all his questions.
Art is not just Art when I was with you.
Compassions could of started and kept burning through.
I understand you had to step back.
I sometimes wonder “what if?” and
do I regret that.

To: Tab
Just a thought.
thelemonpolice Jul 2018
Some people I take pictures with
Because they want to look interesting
And like they have friends
And like they're fun and hot
But i hate how I look in them
Cause the smile is forced
And the angle isn't truthful
And they post it and get hundreds of likes
And they smile the same plastic smile
When they see their notifications popping up
As if that means something very important in their life

But I like you
because we take pictures to look back on in a few years
when we're making funny faces
and although it only got 2 likes
(you and me)
I still smile every time I see it
because I remember
I said that thing that made you laugh till you couldn't breathe right
and you still bring it up sometimes
mid conversation
and my camera roll
reminds me of drunken nights
when we can't stand straight
or speak out words
when we are talking uncensored
about anything and everything
we didn't know we've been meaning to say
and didn't know we'd accept

and I love you for that.
Charlie Dog Aug 2018
dollop of jet black ink
on a backdrop of white,
framed in almond
soft doe eyes.
lashes that bid me stay.
draw me in,
dionaea muscipula.
everything is a blur
except for your gaze.
i hear music
when our eyes meet.
tease me with your smile.
oh, but i long for you
It is said that a geisha's glance can stop a man in his tracks
shanika yrs Aug 2018
Traversing in between that few sweet hangouts
One to another in greater distance
Inside the empty universe

Having shedded ocean of tears
For Keep the moist of life
What life may feel

Staring stagnated beyond horizon
Earnestly towards a vision which can not be seen
For knowing the ingredients of life

The eye has being :

Exhaustede
shanikayrs
Hadiy Syakir Dec 2018
What most
of the people
afraid of
is their disappointment
in mortality,
the unconvincing possibility
of invincibility  
and everything that is
waiting for the eventuality
while
all they have
to do is just
to embrace it
like letting the wind
wrapping up
their body on a cold, rainy night.
H A Vitatoe Jun 12
The picture
that you drew
You said
give to him
I kept it
I'm the one
who seeked you
Not him
Binding us
Forever
My friend
From The Collection "A Work Of Art"
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
On this frosty morning
the dew-jewelled shimmering grass
calls me to immortalise my naked footprints
on its sparkling green carpet.

The mural needs to be perfect,  
    it says!
PC classic Oct 2017
not so long ago
they made you feel
not so alone

before
the social medias and  compulsive criterias

and the claustrophobia
that comes
when you will always understand where some people come from but never love them for it

these days it sits in a blind corner
like a forgotten foreigner
mentioned in sentences
that start with
"remember back when..."

The lesson of technology is to go with the flow

The lesson of time is in old and fading photographs
where you are holding
a landline phone
and pretending to talk into it
because your mother wanted to take a picture
James LR Jun 2018
What does the abstract look like?
Tell what the blue bird sang.
Show me how a tiger strikes
With fear instead of fang.
Although a camera may be quicker,
A word is worth more than a picture.
A picture is worth a thousand words. Pffft. A picture is a few sentences. A thousand words is an essay.
Kelcie Jul 11
I lay in bed wondering why my
heart is aching for the company
it knows it cannot have.
I look up at the picture I have
hanging above my pillow and
a small tear escapes my dry eye.
The tear is full of loneliness
and it is full of hope for the future
when my bed will not be empty
and neither will my heart.
I reach for the picture in the dark
I don't need lights to know which one
radiates the beauty I need to comfort me
on this Wednesday night.
I hold it in my hand trying anything
to feel the warmness of my head
on your chest.
The picture rests in my hand
as I close my eyes and pray that
this cures whatever insomnia
that I've had since you left.
I think of all the time we'll have
together once we grow up and get
out of this place we call home.
I don't remember falling asleep,
but I remember feeling loved
and happy as a smile spreads.
***? Yes.
McDonald tsiie Dec 2018
-why do you take pictures?
"for memories"
-do you know that memories fade?
"every picture has a story"
-well who's the writer?

"me (muse); hence the cover page"
Cné Aug 2017
Fragmented lives entangled
but asunder in our journey
as our paths cosmically connect
in a romance of the arts

And who's to say what's real
to touch or deeply feel
what will truly last
or simply where to start

So I’ll
paint you alla prima
as I feel you playing me
in warm colors of merging ardor
a wet blending of artistry
my brush strokes of your body
painted in my mind
of impressions blushed in passion
in hues I can’t describe

Suspended in the moment
floating on a breeze
I revel in this picture painted music
almost in disbelief, unthinking…
knowing every nuance of our love
found only in our dreams

Like children in parallel play
I’ll finger the keys
and slip the locks
of all your orchestrations
filling the walls
of my concerts halls
with deep
splattered tones
in pinks and blues
the hues
that forever
bind us

And we’ll not look back
nor forward
but hang here in the moment
to display our
Painted Song
in the eyes
of giggly children
both doing
our own thing
together
on a string
curated
A collaboration with Howard Hilde
https://hellopoetry.com/u693528/
Cné Nov 2017
Rise and shine, first thing in the morning walking past the mirror.
Avoiding its reflection, not wanting to see its reflective picture.
Kneeling in the shower, hands pressed tightly to her ribs.  
Who is this frightened child?  Does she even exist?  
She took a step back from the world, no one knew she was alive.  
Now she’s grasping at her life, just trying to survive.
A tainted childhood in shame now fragile bones from self abuse,
don’t blame her though, she was only a child confused.  
How did this happen?  When did this begin?  
She seemed so happy, or was that all pretend?  
She had started at 130, or so,
but felt as if she had lost control.
What happened to this dear sweet innocent child?  
Her idea of beauty and perfection had driven her wild.
Minus 25 later she was so close.  
Almost 100 without any clothes.  
No one would touch her, they thought she would break.  
She told herself she was content with that trade.
I was 18.
~
I’m much better now in my adult discipline
eating healthy 3 meals a day purely for consumption.  
Yesterday, I skipped dinner in lieu of drinking wine.
Today at noon, hovering over my breakfast, I resign
Some days I struggle. Some days I am not fine.
But ...
I will eat my breakfast, lunch and dinner.
And paint my pretty pictures.
This was a therapeutic write.
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