"redrew" poems - Hello Poetry

I bent down to her ear and said Thank you for all you’ve done Not just for NY But for the World She looked at me expressionless from her chair I don’t think that she understood nor cared Then I handed her a little Bag Containing two lipsticks And two pencils I think she threw the pencils on the floor and Wondered aloud Why was everyone giving her pencils? She did not notice that of the two that I gave her one was stamped in gold With the one word Hustler And on the other, two Strictly Business I made no suggestions nor references I didn’t smirk I must have appeared a bit sweet A treacly aberration It doesn’t matter I had selected two perfect reds in LA One a bit more blue and one a classic vampish carmine Blood red can be a challenge even against pale pale Skin. Standing in the lift Fully attuned she caught me not merely looking into her eyes But seeing what I saw A death’s head? I hate when I’m caught doing that Under the fluorescent light She was dog rough Pasty with sad sunken eyes I was thrown, but by what exactly Her magpie distress? Her etheric calamity? Her puffy, aging face? We sat and spoke for a while later that night She did not recognize me at all and apologized maybe it was the next day that the three of us had lunch Everyone in good spirits The mandrake’s screams Forgotten with smiles and a wink Memory bamboozled and Make-up duly applied She took out the lipstick And redrew the lines She liked the shining black case with the little black ribbon for a pull She told our companion sitting on a stoop smoking cigarettes I like your friend and I wondered does she realize that we already know one another?

0

Sep 20, 2018

Sep 20, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC

swiggins

Waiting for the Mikestand to Fly

I bent down to her ear and said Thank you for all you’ve done Not just for NY But for the World She looked at me expressionless from her chair I don’t think that she understood nor cared Then I handed her a little Bag Containing two lipsticks And two pencils I think she threw the pencils on the floor and Wondered aloud Why was everyone giving her pencils? She did not notice that of the two that I gave her one was stamped in gold With the one word Hustler And on the other, two Strictly Business I made no suggestions nor references I didn’t smirk I must have appeared a bit sweet A treacly aberration It doesn’t matter I had selected two perfect reds in LA One a bit more blue and one a classic vampish carmine Blood red can be a challenge even against pale pale Skin. Standing in the lift Fully attuned she caught me not merely looking into her eyes But seeing what I saw A death’s head? I hate when I’m caught doing that Under the fluorescent light She was dog rough Pasty with sad sunken eyes I was thrown, but by what exactly Her magpie distress? Her etheric calamity? Her puffy, aging face? We sat and spoke for a while later that night She did not recognize me at all and apologized maybe it was the next day that the three of us had lunch Everyone in good spirits The mandrake’s screams Forgotten with smiles and a wink Memory bamboozled and Make-up duly applied She took out the lipstick And redrew the lines She liked the shining black case with the little black ribbon for a pull She told our companion sitting on a stoop smoking cigarettes I like your friend and I wondered does she realize that we already know one another?

66

When you look in to my eyes, Do you see windows, Or do you see black paint, mascara, eyeliner? And if you see mascara, can you tell how much it cost? or how many times I put it on, and washed it off before deciding it was good enough? and redrew the wing of my eyeliner so at least something would look sharp tonight? and how long I spent debating whether you like girls who wear makeup or not, and if you would make out my hesitations through the clumps? And if you see windows, tell me, what do you see through them? Do you see my thoughts and ideas? Can you see the garden I planted for you through them? or did the last person who looked through my windows leave too many mascara streaks? Or maybe you just see the empty widow frames, and want to install your own glass in them? Of course, if you ever looked at my eyes you would know, but you only see in colour when you scroll though my Instagram page trying to decode whether my caption is about you or not, and whether that other girl looks better without makeup than me? I’d have to agree with you. Mascara is easier to spot when the filter is on high saturation. If only windows worked like that.

0

Apr 5, 2016

Apr 5, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC

flowerheart

Eyes/ Where everything is a question

When you look in to my eyes, Do you see windows, Or do you see black paint, mascara, eyeliner? And if you see mascara, can you tell how much it cost? or how many times I put it on, and washed it off before deciding it was good enough? and redrew the wing of my eyeliner so at least something would look sharp tonight? and how long I spent debating whether you like girls who wear makeup or not, and if you would make out my hesitations through the clumps? And if you see windows, tell me, what do you see through them? Do you see my thoughts and ideas? Can you see the garden I planted for you through them? or did the last person who looked through my windows leave too many mascara streaks? Or maybe you just see the empty widow frames, and want to install your own glass in them? Of course, if you ever looked at my eyes you would know, but you only see in colour when you scroll though my Instagram page trying to decode whether my caption is about you or not, and whether that other girl looks better without makeup than me? I’d have to agree with you. Mascara is easier to spot when the filter is on high saturation. If only windows worked like that.

16

Paul turned to face his brother, Rick returned his gaze, wiped his left eye, A leather thumb hidden from everyone, Picked up black pitch and vile sweat, staining it with liquid darkness. Both saw what their tireless work, Sharin's charge had covered them in. Dappled, dirt caked skin, a stench masked by noise, War kept them too busy to bathe, song was like water now, It was needed to sustain life. Seven ways to continue dismounted to collect, Together, around a stream. John aimed to press further on, regardless, Rick redrew his bowstring, kept it taut, Paul stood beside Rick, his polearm planted firmly at Sharin's side, Kevin thought it best to turn back, Albert plucked a string to his support, As did Richard with his bow wearing a fresh layer of rosin, Christopher's flute, seldom used was anything but resolute, It played a solemn solo, saw no other course of action, Sharin wasn't sleeping well today...

0

Apr 15, 2014

Apr 15, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC

leroy-j-harris

Silence of song part 103

Paul turned to face his brother, Rick returned his gaze, wiped his left eye, A leather thumb hidden from everyone, Picked up black pitch and vile sweat, staining it with liquid darkness. Both saw what their tireless work, Sharin's charge had covered them in. Dappled, dirt caked skin, a stench masked by noise, War kept them too busy to bathe, song was like water now, It was needed to sustain life. Seven ways to continue dismounted to collect, Together, around a stream. John aimed to press further on, regardless, Rick redrew his bowstring, kept it taut, Paul stood beside Rick, his polearm planted firmly at Sharin's side, Kevin thought it best to turn back, Albert plucked a string to his support, As did Richard with his bow wearing a fresh layer of rosin, Christopher's flute, seldom used was anything but resolute, It played a solemn solo, saw no other course of action, Sharin wasn't sleeping well today...

18

I ignored the universe when it showered me with signs over and over I changed paths took detours redrew a map But at the end of it all looks up Hi. Again.

0

Jan 8, 2018

Jan 8, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC

maria-etre

Inevitable Things

I ignored the universe when it showered me with signs over and over I changed paths took detours redrew a map But at the end of it all looks up Hi. Again.

11

Breaking reflective glass, feeling outnumbered and outclassed, those "beauty contests," not one did you pass. Now you can't stand your own face, features so out of place, and I know they called you ugly again, so you redrew yourself with a surgical pen. You say it's just a little plastic, but now your face looks so elastic, but they now call you amazing, you feel ecstatic, but tell me, do you really feel that fantastic?

0

May 11, 2018

May 11, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC

edric-daumier

Ugly

Breaking reflective glass, feeling outnumbered and outclassed, those "beauty contests," not one did you pass. Now you can't stand your own face, features so out of place, and I know they called you ugly again, so you redrew yourself with a surgical pen. You say it's just a little plastic, but now your face looks so elastic, but they now call you amazing, you feel ecstatic, but tell me, do you really feel that fantastic?

7