"retouched" poems
In urgent call.
The door opens by elegant wrist.
Her lashes close.
Soft beads of water fresh out the shower.
Made glorious, covering me.
Her scent the tip of my nose.
Every wrong made right.
Sweetened cocoa butter, the hint of mango.
Artesian painting reflects us.
Offering safe passage from tongue to lips.
Open, the taste of delicate skin.
The fragrance of all I'd need.
Seasoned by discovery.
The rediscovery of thought.
The towel drops.
Every breath a caress from which we grew.
A flower in bloom, ripe in unification.
Well soaked in eternal ache.
The artesian painting retouched by desire.
Consistently in the utmost obligation.
Undressed,
The passage of me to you
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 2:36 PM UTC
This is for the girls who lie awake at night,
Pulling at the blankets to keep them warm,
Drenched in sins of deprecation.
Tossing and turning on their twin size beds,
because there is not enough room to fit expectations,
let alone their own.
This is for the girls who stare at themselves in front of their mirrors,
Pinching at the extra layers of skin that hang around their tummies.
Rolls of "fat" as they call it, I prefer the term "beauty."
This is for the girls who have shoulders are backs plastered in scars.
From the bras that were one cup size to small, overly adjusted and tightened straps.
This is for the girls who fall prey to the fallacies of magazine stands,
captivated by the cold letters bleeding off the covers:
"Three hundred, sixty-five ways to style your hair!"
"How to get the perfect ****
"Turn off the lights to look good naked!"
"How to make him love you!"
Pull apart the flesh, look beneath your skin,
you are not defined by the number of eyes that manifest lust towards you,
you are not the hands that plead to saunter their way toward your hips,
You are not the number of inches that space out your thighs.
Or the visibility of muscle that line up on your stomach.
You do not need to look good naked,
don't turn off the lights.
Your **** looks fine
Stop falling victim to the media
To the photo shopped ads of puppets who look nothing like you
Because your real
and if you want a man to love you, he must learn to accept you
with your extra flaws, our scars, and rolls of fat.
Because that sack of bones known as a model on a Cosmopolitan cover will not keep him warm.
It is inscribed in the atoms that make you a person
you are a three dimensional beautiful masterpiece
you are not a computerized pixelated image
reshaped and resized retouched and revised
stop letting society dehumanize a woman
your a woman
all the fury to slither through you limbs until you shake with and anger and purpose, acknowledge the value of your worth for you are more that just a waste of paper and space, you are space, you are human, your alive, and beautiful
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
With your brown eyes bright I can see you there, and I'm afraid I've done it again. Retouched this unrequited madness, tossing me into the throws of a love lost panic.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
I crawled out of bed
Adjusted my thoughts
My heart on my sleeve
And my stomach in knots
I damaged my brain
To powder my nose,
The abyss of my conscience . . .
As the wind blows
I grabbed at my gloves
Pulled on my pretense
Confused and uncertain
Why life felt so dense
The life that I saw
On med after med
Now only exists
Within Maple’s head
In front of you, now
Gift wrapped and retouched
Hope you like what you see
Cause I don’t very much
Dressed and well-practiced
In subtle charade
I’ve nothing but danced
This stark masquerade.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 2:30 AM UTC
I painted a picture of another time that I existed in
Looked at every color in my view
Thought about the way, my heart beat within
Remembered, the face of you too
I turned the picture over and looked for a nail
Thinking I could hang it on my wall
Every color in my picture my senses did assail
When I remembered the face of our fall
Muted colors of crimson passion flowed in disbelief
From the edges of the canvas I had prepared
Remembering the heart I took like a thief
Tore open and left bleeding there
I turned the picture over and looked for my brush
Every color I had in my view
Thought about the way, my heart beat in a rush
When I remembered, the face of you
I painted a picture of this time we both exist in
Using every color in my view
Thought about the way, my heart beats within
As I retouched, the heart, of you
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 7:00 PM UTC
a portrait dodged on my mind
spotted and retouched
silhouetted in the grainy penumbra
a soft-focus smile with a motion blur
at the edges of the mouth
where the fixer could not hold
candid grey card hand pushing the negative
framed by the infrared cautions
my perspective agitated in my stomach
a stop bath of underdeveloped words
like a graveyard for my depth of field
those muted views from your apartment door
solarized in the albumen light of our distance
a carte-de-visite from your camera obscura
rapping on my ribcage like my heart is
enlarging and must be cropped
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
I encountered you on Queenston.
A fitting place for a Monarch.
Formed roots asked to be retouched for pale yellow hair.
A volatile liquid to be consumed for enjoyment.
Embarking on a journey of joy and anger. Blossoming love and constant pain.
Secrets to be kept from the so-called "immaculate one".
But yet your feelings were not spared.
Taking the side of who we call a misunderstood monster.
Remember everything we talked about?
Remember the hateful words and angry gestures she created between us?
Nonetheless, you forgave.
Forgave us for hurting her and you.
Then came a day that I was no longer invited to be a part of your life.
Trying to be a decent human, trying to cause as little pain as possible, following my heart while breaking others, do you understand?
You beautiful, soulful, golden goddess. Do you?
During the chaos you found your heart with a voyage across seas.
Drowning in bliss, forgetting all turmoil.
Now we sit here without your companionship.
Empty and sorrowful.
Reminded through memories of what was once a great bond.
You deserve everything life has to offer.
I hope it's as adventurous as you need it to be.
I'm happy for you. I wish you the best. And I still love you.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
You hurt Me in the beginning
Continued Hurting
me in the middle.
After all, I Gave You A Chance. Although you deserved So little.
My Love was Given to You.
I Gave You my body & Mind.
I opened and gave you my time.
I closed and shut anything that will Get in between spending time.
What did I do to deserve this?
I Gave You everything I could !
Dropped everyone for You!
I centered You In
My life.
Baby you became my world.
After All The Disrespect and lies
I Invested all my happiness in Your life. Focused on How to treat you right. biggest mistake I've made. For You, The attention and so much love I Showedd You . I lost Focus on what was the main thing. I Abandoned the task that was most important & Should have been placed over everyone and everything.
I left my recovery behind .
All For A soul that wasn't mutual to mine.
Sobriety was most important.
I lost myself and never found me.
I never retouched connection with what was going to help me.
I was told not to get in a relationship on my 1st yr clean.
They warned it will damage and make Recovering much harder than what it was supposed to be.
Throughout this relationship I felt nothing but
sorrow & pain.
Tears and Frustration
Dissapointment & heartaches
un explanations.
I Was destroyd even more.
I was tossed & played.
My Love has fade and I lost interest in faith.
It was a huge mistake.
My heart got broken
My Love lost its feel
I have no Wants
To be in love ever again.
Thank You "baby..."
For Contributing to my depression
To Teaming up and ******* my life Up like my addiction.
Team players, both got your wish.
I'm left Hopeless , I feel worthless
Yet I'm in need of your presence.
I fell inlove With A new love.
The feelings of being
let down, Broken, Crushed & ruined. Feeling unwanted
Leftout & Forgotten.
im Obssessed With Dwelling.
Replaying Scenarios Of my heart Being Stomped. I'm sprung on The Thoughts of being loved by no one because I'm not good enough.
How upsetting
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
By: David W. Clare
Las Vegas is the town she dreamed of when we spoke on the phone...
Being young and stupid, I thought with the wrong head!
Her pictures were retouched, shows how much I know...
She spoke no English, I spoke no Japanese!
Like a small figurine I once saw, Asian women have two faces...
Matched pairs are juxtaposed between mixed races!
Buyer beware is the same as beauty is in the eye of the beer holder...
(C) In perpetuity all rights reserved
(P) FilmNoirWorks
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
nothing scares me more than me.
it isn't fair,
it aches to be
so full of rancid misery;
twisted psychologically
by tempered hate
- a level stare -
emotion shreds that crackling coat
of grinning, laughing make-believe,
retouched,
refinished,
polished fine
by damaged days in infancy.
I want to love;
I long to breathe
and bare it all,
******* the need to look so in control.
please,
how long until I break, you think?
how long until they see?
those sorrows buried underneath.
nothing scares me more than me.
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 9:52 PM UTC
All poems and proses are unfinished
Only those in sonnet are finished
Completed, done, and terminated
A poem or prose can still be edited
Revised, retouched and rewritten
A poem is a powerful tool or weapon
Leave alone my unfinished poems
These are my spices, my stars, my emblems
You don't understand their symbols
And the words used to fill up the bowls
You just have to read my poems ten times
To fully comprehend them. Ignore the rhymes
To pay more attention to the vernacular
They are not bizarre; they are just particular
They are not regular; they are unfinished
They are not strange, they are simple. Kabish!
Copyright © July 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 7:11 PM UTC