"ruggedness" poems
1. Fallow brown, like he's poured his whole soul out through the gold sieve and lies in wait to be replenished.
2. The color of the ocean. Blue, I guess, but that’s not even the half of it. All the ruggedness of the waves—forming up, breaking, and forming again like life is only the motions. Her eyes are blue, but you could hardly tell.
3. A hand-painted bowl of fresh chocolate frosting from which the most immature hands soonest get a mouthful.
4. Beautiful. Like, drop dead gorgeous. I’d dig my own grave and stick to rolling in it if she ever looked at me some type of way. Their color? I don’t know. But most of all, I dare to wonder about the bludgeoned scar between them.
5. Sturdy cobalt. Far more indicative of her steady heart than gold could ever hope to be. Still susceptible to tear, but not so easily warped by heat or stress.
6. Simply brown. No, red? It’s always been hard to tell through the fog. Truthful like the rawest earth, I’ll call her mahogany.
7. Faded blue spray paint over a slate gray wall. Forcibly muted after her years of blasting music, but there’s still that rogue twinkle to them that I pray slips through the cracks.
8. Coffee, with all the vim and vigor to make you click your heels and fall in love.
9. Unripe lime seen lazing in the shade. Not fit for a margarita just yet, but straining at the bit nonetheless.
10. Hazel, although I still don’t know what the **** that actually is. Whatever. It looks nice on her resume.
11. Green. Or were they blue? The memories of her were too wonderful, too important, that I had to let the littlest details fade away first.
12. The crystallized seafoam that made me realize I deserved to feel alive, too.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC
the lushness of the land
the ruggedness of the rocks
pictures can capture everyone's view of perfection.
but have you sat on a cheap beach chair,
with sand in your toes and curly hair,
across your sunburned face?
subtly smiling at the distant crash of waves,
or listening to the live music
that sounds like the band "summer salt?"
lava lava beach club
with cats wandering around the island
just as your heart wanders around the lovely memories
that you count one by one
to taste their delicious ideas
and finally, finally
feel.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
I see you.
And I hear them too.
"You need to choose."
"Well you must like one more than the other"
"This is just a phase."
"Oh, you're just confused."
I see you.
And I hear society.
Today, society feels threatened by anything that does not fit a label.
Especially if that label leads to more confusion than clarity.
Dear Little Bi-Girl, you are not the problem.
Gay - Men who like Men
Lesbian - Women who like women
Bi-Sexual - you like both?
Dear Little Bi-Girl, they are confused by you.
Bi-sexuality is what the "B" in LGBT stands for.
Proving that you are recognized as "different" and it's okay.
But yet you still feel the lack of respect associated with who you want to love.
Little Bi-Girl, you remind society that there is a grey area in this black and white world.
You are the blurred line.
You are the example of half and half.
You are the misunderstood.
And I still see you.
Not fully allowed to be a part of the straight world and not fully allowed to be a part of the gay world.
You feel awkward in both.
You don't fit in a box.
Borderline hetero, borderline ****
And I still see you.
You like the softness of a woman,
The ruggedness of a man,
And society is not content with your opinion of your ****** orientation:
"I just like people".
Society is loud and drowns you out.
"You need to choose."
"Well you must like one more than the other"
"This is just a phase."
"Oh, you're just confused."
But Little Bi-Girl,
I see you.
You can't choose.
You don't like one more than the other.
and It's not just a phase.
You're not confused.
Society is.
Dear Little Bi-Girl,
I hear you.
I am you.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
We are such opposites, you and I
Yet somehow we've woven ourselves into this web
You are a tsunami
Yet I am simply the ebb
Differences so evident, it's almost insulting
Your ink-stained arms push up against my bare, ivory chest
You are so clearly you
While I am only somewhat me, at best
So many places you've been
While I've been sitting here all the while
Circumstances should have told us both "No!"
But that word disappears completely as you smile
So much knowledge I've gained
While you don't bother with reading
You are always content with the simplest things
But I yearn immensely for things I'm not really needing
Your smoke-filled room meets my untouched lungs
Your devilish ways engulf my ****** essence
We can only meet briefly, and so rarely it feels
Your absence is like Christmas without presents
I snicker when you sigh, laugh when you cry
I'm through with rest, yet you sit as I stand
I lay myself down just as you rise
My ghostly form next to your harsh skin, perfectly tanned
Your breast was hollow once
Long before me and you, we, became us
But mine was overflowing with love
That the Heavens knew was meant for you, I undoubtedly trust
They, all of them out there, may not understand
Your roughness and ruggedness holding my soft and clean hands
But I do not care about their worries or remarks
Because we are separate people, but one in our hearts
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
I’m tucked between the ruggedness of wired fences and tugging hands
Grasping my heart with hungry fingers ready to rip in shreds
I’m tired of feeling so lost beyond words
By men that love to throw me on the ground with worms.
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 1:51 PM UTC
In no distant time,
The darkness falls
And
Bring Mourning and suffering
To hopeful Souls.
It touches all
And
Catches More.
Somehow, some surpass
The Ruggedness of Life,
But most times,
It becomes difficult to comprehend.
Ovi Odiete©
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
A story by tiger body
By All Means Increase Your Hate For Sculptors
they won't conceal the sour lies
they are silent on the subject of biting, vinegar tangy
and their hands over your eyes
take my body to a mathematician
they will not revive you
they will empty your mind of jagged ruggedness
and deny you the sun
Surrender your mind to an accountant
carelessly ignore the lead and leaf
denying you from horrid hellholes
they are unlikely to conceal and bore
Be selfish with you're disinterest of painters
you're no better off as enemies
they still the whirling innanities
in a one act play, that changes every day
By All Means Increase Your Hate For Sculptors
don't believe the silence they keep from you
they have lost their ropes and nets
later and momentarily
if you're out of hate for politicians
you are unaware of the validity of it
once in a while the path is blocked
to leave this hatred behind myself
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Baby feet
like sugarplum gumdrops
Covered in sweetness
Only the tongue can describe
Enveloped in intrinsic tenderness
It can’t help but commit-
Akin to the kind of touch a mother holds
Her precious children with
Plush plush plush
Fluffy poodles and the smile of the old lady who sells
Candied strawberries on the street
Drizzled around the eyes of a kind maiden
Laden with tumultuous softness
That always welcomes embrace
With honey trapped in dimples
Skin smooth and supple
I sneak a nibble,
Sly and delicious
Simply nutritious
To my soul,
As it seeks this aura everywhere.
This does not mean
Weakness.
This can withstand
A million and one falls.
The echoing ripples of circles
In the pond of teardrops
Reserved for the world
And everyone in it
Seems to scan for you in a hopeful distance
Permeating constantly…
I’m merely a timid girl
Who fears rigidity and barriers
Desperate for a haven
Of feathers
Of warm rotund flesh
To retreat my head in
No matter how hard
I rub it the wrong way
It will never catch flame
And anger skips straight to a pensive forgiveness
That will continue to love and be my friend
Forevermore
For we do not keep scores
And we treasure scars
Silly enough to pick at scabs playfully
Taking the new ruggedness
Regarding it still:
Soft.
Plentiful,
With the mark of experience.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 5:45 AM UTC
Your stubbornness
rivals mine
aggravates me
challenges me
and yet
is an endearing quality.
This independent woman
is driven mad
by your dominance
and thirsts for more of you.
Your inner boy
excited by childish joys
matches your ruggedness
that comes out to play at night.
This once modest woman is greedy
for more of you.
It won't be long
till
she'll be
left
addicted
to you.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Maybe time could transform the remaining strands of affection into cobwebs, if not entirely sweep them away.
Your laugh was the same. Your embrace was still warm. You still moved with the slight air of being lost.
But then I noticed your hands.
They were masked with a foreign ruggedness, sprinkled with dark follicles. Those very hands that had become so familiar with my body had become so unfamiliar to my eyes.
The hand of Time had send me colliding into the face of Reality.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
*Whisper in her ear
things she wants to hear
don't hesitate, instigate
don't let your promises deflate
let her expectations fill up and inflate
make the ruggedness a clean slate
when she expects to be out of town, take her out of state.*
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
Smile pretty.. you'll soon fade away.
.fade away in shades of grey in a ray of dismay...you utter words of uncertainty...pleasures unfold in front of thee... Smile pretty
.. pretty lies take over... Be careful as the devil looks over....his hand is on your shoulder.. he takes over in a fine white powder burning through your passages...you sniff away the ruggedness and wipe the vommit from your mouth ....lifting your head up from the porcelain throne you Cant do without..stuff your feelings down your throat...the guilt eats at you..smile pretty..and man the **** up...it's you who caused this...
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
I like the dry leaves
I like the ruggedness they develop over time
I like the moisture ridden texture
I like their state
Which would never change!
I like the fact
That they look strong
And yet weekly how they fall for the direction of the breeze.
I like the dry leaves
And their unheard symphony!
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
Is there a man of such steely self-control
Of such virtue, character, fortitude
Strength and pride in his manly role
Confidence and heart and stern attitude
Valor, endurance, resolution, will
Courage, patience, defiance, intellect
Manliness, ruggedness, rock-like, chill
Decision, quality, all cool and collect
That he doesn’t have to go and upchuck
Whenever he hears that “Desiderata” muck?
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC