"shiniest" poems
I recall from some time ago
a pink plastic tea set
a white plastic rocking chair
and a yellow plastic pony
with blue plastic hair,
which
was impossible to untangle
except for with the green plastic brush
that belonged to my blonde barbie doll
out of her plastic vanity cabinet
beneath her plastic vanity mirror,
which
she checked her makeup in
before meeting her plastic boyfriend
in his plastic van
to go to a plastic diner
that served plastic pizza,
which
was really just a sticker
on a tiny plastic plate
that would get lost in the bottom
of my plastic toybox,
which
had a plastic lid
that was also my sailboat
that brought me to a plastic castle
with a plastic princess
who had the prettiest plastic eyes
and the most elaborate plastic dress
and the shiniest plastic crown,
which
was the envy of all the plastic women
in the entire plastic kingdom,
which
was really just a plastic castle
surrounded by an enchanted plastic forest
filled with furry plastic creatures
all atop a clear plastic box,
which
held the plastic dishes
and plastic glasses
and plastic food
in case a feast should be thrown
for an unexpected plastic guest
from a plastic kingdom in the far east,
which
was really just a plastic plate
placed on the plastic-coated windowsill,
from which
I would peer into the blue sky
through broken plastic binoculars
while standing on a yellow and green plastic step stool,
which
when turned upside down
became not simply a make-shift plastic sailboat,
but a glorious, luxury plastic cruise liner
for my pretty plastic dolls
and I would board my toybox lid
and we would sail into a perfect plastic horizon
which
was really just a white plastic baby gate
that kept me from tumbling
into the world downstairs
where things are wooden
and glass
and cloth
but not plastic
for plastic is synthetic
and plastic is superficial
and plastic looks bad
against gilded wallpaper
but plastic is cheaper
and plastic is safer
and plastic is durable
and childhood is plastic
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
Smile, a simple curve in your face
That sets everything into place
It's a gesture in your lips
That makes me forget how to sleep
Smiling will cost you nothing
But for me it means everything
It always happen in just a flash
Yet the memory stored in me will last
With a glimpse of that sweet smirk
And this whole world of mine change
With a glance of your sparkling smile
I can say that this life is a brand new game
Why would I bother gazing up in the sky
If the shiniest star is in front of my eye
It would be a waste of time diving looking for a pearl
It's an obvious fact, with your smile nothing can be compare
Your smile is like a contagious virus
Affecting my heart, and mind and make me smile too
damaging my brain cells and can't do a thing
hanged, frozen, just looking straight to you
It's amazing how it can make me vulnerable
Your smile is very lovable
I'll do anything to make that smile last for eternity
Because it defines the name "diane" for me
Feb 15, 2020
Feb 15, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
he, hardly fit,
sleeps fitfully
he, like a baby,
up and down at 2am
the cerebrum racked,
like a street *** so needy,
for a low caloric,
non-alcoholic snack
pickles - the almost zero solution,
dill in particular,
or even the slightly bad boy cousins,
the buttered variety
so in his customized original
100% sleeping skin gear,
standing in front of the shiniest fridge
gleaming,
his unfortunate reflection somewhat
steamy,
indecisive, which, his pickle, to to choose,
which to eat, completely complete,
to celebrate his dietetic restraint
so she, the yoga ballerina lioness,
finds him upright but not uptight,
leaving him in an awkward
so to speak, poem, pickling,
naked and speechless,
as the mouth is fully engorged
and on point
she summarizes
most eloquently,
the ****** and the crudités and the et. al.,
with a succinctly pithy observation:
*"ah, I see (me wincing),
still crazy after all these years*
...and other stories*
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
---
**i'm here
invisible hand
retching in your pocket
reaching in your face
teaching all
or nothing
blue bottles buzz
round my head in circles
making me dizzy
I pick a posie of dandilions
gone to seed
I foray about
looking for the shiniest
diamonds in aluminum cans
the brass ring
must certainly be
tarnished gold
the forge bellows that is my chest
heaves in another cough
cooling my tounge
the empty wind that echos ashes
spent embers collect
in the cracks
of the
abyss
my bones which were disjointed
oh so slowly reassemble
instantly
but someone
at the factory didn't
read the
destructions
my legs are arms
my hands
feet
i lie under a cold
sky
in july
oh don't cry
when i die
no whitened seplechur my inheritance
my epitaph nonsense
a palm tree o'r my
grave**
soulsurvivor
(C) 6/13/2015
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
Everyday I search for
the brightest and shiniest star
on earth while walking home
her look can cure my deepest scar
Everyday I wish to
reach this blazing star
However I try
she is so near yet so far
Everyday I know
in few moments in time
she will be gone very far
left with shallow memories in eyes of mine
What if i can't be with you
in this life on earth
some says we become stars in future
I want to shine next to you by all my heart
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 3:43 AM UTC
There once was a boy with bones of obsidian and onyx eyes.
He held me as if all that was beneath my
thickly woven sweater sleeves was my
hollow crystal skeleton.
He held me up to the light like
seaglass he discovered on the beach
and let the sunset filter through me.
One night the onyx in his eyes was sparkling with glints of ruby
and what he didn't know when he
wrapped his hand around my neck and squeezed too tight,
reached into my chest and stole an artery from my rose quartz heart
and an amethyst knuckle from my ring finger,
was that beneath my rose-gold toenails
were leaden feet.
I kicked him swiftly in the groin and ran.
Then came a boy with sapphire eyes.
When he touched me, I felt polished and clean.
He was the first boy I let
take off my knitted sweater.
He stroked the smooth surface of my bones
and when he shattered them,
he would help me repair them.
Between the cracks of my translucent skeleton
are slivers of the shiniest sapphire
you've ever seen.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Autumn Friday in sepia,
Counting conkers in the park,
Lit by a fuzzy chestnut sun
That fairly crackles
As it touches the chilly branches
Of the mother tree.
I, too, am a mother tree
Hoarding conkers in the bottom of the pram,
For excited little twiglets,
There must be near two hundred in there now,
Large and small,
loving them all,
My daughters
wonder at the shiny brown bullets,
Loading their skirts with more and more,
Dropping, laughing, searching, competing
For the biggest, shiniest ball.
Home we go,
Loaded with treasure,
I will stash them in a bag
And let them live with us
'Til Summer.
They must be kept,
I cannot be parted
From the source of so much joy
For the keepers of my heart.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
laugh at the spring
of an innermost bud
sweep into drunkenness
an insensitive buzz
couch surfing hymns
state to state, you in your
least excellent of clothes
still steals the breath away
from the shiniest worn by most
best friends for life, safe from him
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
It's never too lonely here
with a soul which has
a thirst that even the
oceans can't quench,
with a heart that holds
secrets dark and deep
where roots of the oldest
trees too can't reach,
with twinkling eyes that
dream the biggest of dreams
which even the shiniest
stars can't match.
It's never too lonely here
while I take this journey
inward, beyond walls and
boundaries to seek myself,
there's a light inside
you and me, so radiant
and warm, take its
hand and follow it,
ask it all the questions
you've always had and
the day you realise the
answers are within you
is when you too will say -
it's never too lonely here.
Jan 24, 2022
Jan 24, 2022 at 11:21 AM UTC
Am I relevant enough to scribble my name
on the dance card of your heart?
Your passive loyalty and interest make you to be a *******
but I've always much preferred the constancy of choreography
and heat on the Fourth of July.
So please tell me why:
Why must I always play the follow
to your non-remorseful lead?
My shiniest records were always for you
as were my collective Saturday nights,
the hours spent practicing and sweating
preparing, only to be worthy.
I should know better
seeing as this is the 14th time
you've broken the gramophone.
Perhaps it's time for a new waltz.
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 6:18 PM UTC
Eager, ***** I washed my hands of you
in Rippling Creek on the 1st of January --
the beginning of the beginning.
As you turned to driftwood,
the friends and cross-eyed strangers
asked what was I thinking when I let go of you.
My mouth stitched by bongwater haze
all I could do -- watch your notched body soak.
Now on the 18th of September,
sitting in Fox Hollow, USA,
the shiniest of suburbs --
the sober of the sober--
In honest,
I say I'd rather have you alive and hating me
than dead and loving me.
If I lied in the grey dawn,
it was out of love.
If I lied in the grey dawn,
I was out of truth.
I'm alone
fending off vultures prying in with fake Facebook profiles,
taking threats from fathers who long ago went blind,
and this much I promise to you and Fox Hollow, USA:
I will quarantine the past.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Apples can come in all shapes and sizes,
Two apples they are not the same,
See one and it's in your hand before it realizes,
Choosing the right one is part of the game,
They can look so sweet from where you sit,
But once you bite into that rotten part,
It changes your whole perception of it,
And can send and arrow through your heart,
To me I'm an apple not wholly bad,
To you the shiniest and most delectable you'd seen,
Sadly more bitter than you what thought you had,
But with time to ripen fit for my queen.
For apples to be we are both bruised,
We have been hurt and reduced,
Some visible, and some I denied the clues,
Yet together us perfectly flawed apples have fused,
Like a pair that only comes in a dual pack,
Still we cannot unfeel what we have felt,
Nor take back the damage i have dealt.
I vow to bring us back on track.
Let me be your sun,
Your source of growth,
Your only one,
So hear my oath.
I will be your love, your inspiration,
Like the apple of your first impression,
We will roll down hills and across nations,
For this is the long run and not a single session.
I see now that we could endure any weather
From stormy oceans to scorching heat
And one day i hope our seeds grow a tree together
That no other apple could possibly beat.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
A paradox in itself
But then I saw her there across
the room
through flocks and flocks of 'beautiful'
silly seagulls --
frivolously flocking,
pecking at
the shiniest trash that flutters by
Only to swallow
pass
flock, peck again
--------------------------------------------------------------
She intrigued my mind
through
the eye I saw her beak was flat y
no craning,
crooning neck l
and could not f
for she had no wings
... maybe we do not care to fly!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Like the Red Sea
She-Moses split through the flock
to me,
beakless
surrounded by chronically cocking faces
all but one,
all alone
She had been too
-------------------------------------------------------------
Now next to me
No wandering eye could care
in soundless conversation
proclaimed we
are together
as one we surely gleamed as gold
too bright for gulls to see
...Mastur-consolation?
-------------------------------------------------------------
And so it's true
we were alone
together
perfect paradoxical bliss
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
My dear and beloved Valentine!
there’s so much for me to define
the words aren’t much to be in line
even with all these pens combine
there’s still too much left underlying
in my heart of what you mean to me
and how we’re so intertwined
of all the blessings, you are my greatest
of all the hopes, you’re my highest
of all the wishes , you’re my biggest
of all the melodies ,you’re my harmonious
of all the strengths, you’re my strongest
of all the harmonies, your laugh is my sweetest
of all the that shine, your eyes are the shiniest
of all the gifts bestowed on me
there can’t be any, more heavenly
what you’re to me, is the moon to the sea
like the waves it pulls, you pull my heart strings
as this sun lights up the universe
is just a fraction to the life so luminous
this life i never thought could ever become
too beautiful and even more in time to come
my most beautiful and amazing Fatima Gul
with you my life is so full
full of life and happiness
it’s like I’m living a dream
a dream i dared dreaming all my life
but here you are and here are we
you sure are my undeniable miracle
I love you more than anything
with a love that’s never ending
with all my heart and all my soul
I love you and you make me whole
Happy valentines to my valentine
I love you 💞💞💞💞💞
Feb 14th, 2022
Valentines Day 🥰💞
~me
Jul 26, 2022
Jul 26, 2022 at 1:53 PM UTC
A man spoke to me today,
On the train home from work,
He reached for my hands,
Carelessly, as if it were natural,
His were leather, rough,
With grinning eyes,
And tired lips,
He spoke,
I am a penguin.
Now, I thought, that was odd,
But who am I to judge?
So I remained patiently quiet.
I am a penguin,
With my tattered suit,
I care for my young-
And for my mate,
Whom I love deeply.
How sweet, I thought,
That he could care so much,
But what is the point?
I am a penguin,
The stone I got my wife-
Was the shiniest on the beach,
And I braved seals,
For her, I am enough.
Now, that's adorable,
But his hands were firm,
And sweaty,
Leave me alone, my eyes asked.
I am a penguin,
But I tire of it,
And perhaps for a moment,
I'd rather be a dolphin,
And swim away, with you...
But sir,
I said,
Do you know what I am?
No, why?
I am obsidian,
Dark, hard, sharp,
Forged in the fires of chaos,
And if you hold me without care,
I'll cut a *****
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
Many rocks.
Small and large.
Rough and smooth.
Sandy and hard.
Multicoloured and plain.
Are spun around for days
inside the revolving bin.
Until all impurities are
worked out of them.
The process is long
but it has a glorious outcome.
For the rocks emerge
polished and shiny.
As treasures they've become.
"The hardest rocks come out the shiniest,"
says the craftsman.
And I think of Christ the Cornerstone.
And His wise discipline.
Like the rocks,
He may turn us with force,
and the process may be long.
With trials threatening to drown.
While He refines His own.
He must use what is necessary,
to cleanse us of our heart's impurities.
Then He polishes us
and turns us into gems of beauty.
And the hardest stones among those that are His,
come out the most beautifully polished.
I fall on my knees as I consider His ways.
And I pray...
"Lord, refine me. Cleanse me of my impurities.
Polish me. As hard a stone as I can be. And
turn me into a gem of beauty. For Your glory."
He gently picks me up.
And places me inside the revolving bin...
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC
I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to throw myself into a pit of nostalgia to try and remember what happiness feels like.
All my poems are so sad, I don't know why I'm so sad.
My therapist tells me I have self esteem issues that effect everything else in my life.
My insecurities have ways been there, I had just never been able to put a name to the face until I brought a razor to my skin for the first time and the pain didn't feel wrong.
I didn't know what I was doing was wrong, I had no idea that it was wrong to be a 12 years old with arms covered in scars I call my battle wounds,
because no one wants to talk about the elephant in the room when it sounds like I've been to war and I'm only 17.
They won't poke and **** me with questions when it sounds like I was captured by the enemy and skinned for my beliefs.
I won't be questioned why I am not happy.
Why at 12 years old I was unhappy and why I am 17 years old now and I am still not happy.
I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to write a happy poem by thinking 6 years back to before I knew I put the name to the face, before my insecurities were put on show for the world to see,
before I knew it was wrong to hate myself for what I wasn't and for who I wanted to be.
Until it finally hit me.
I've never been happy.
My hair was never as long as the girl on my left,
my body was never as skinny as the girl on my right.
My smile was never the shiniest nor were my eyes the brightest.
I tried to write a happy poem, but I can't write about a foreign entity, I can't write about something I have never had.
The concept of happiness is so alien that no wonder that when people are overcome with the feeing they feel out of this world.
Happiness is a luxury that I have never been given the privilege of.
Happiness is a luxury that I have never I will never been given the privilege of of.
I tried to write a happy poem,
I feel more empty inside than I've ever felt before.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
Together,
I thought it was forever.
There I was having a serious ponder.
On where I'll end up regardless of whatever.
Like a shattered glass house,
My whole heart scattered.
Remembering that heart aching December,
Tears flow down in embers.
You left without warning,
And I was left sulking.
The shiniest star up high,
Is the only picture I have of you.
How? Why?
I never knew.
But still I'm forced to carry on,
With a life I didn't bargain for.
You swayed,
She stayed.
I felt weight swept off my shoulder pad,
Till one thought,
Fueled her reason to be fed up,
With both of us hooked up.
Well, it's fine.
She deserves to taste wine.
I let her,
Or more like; she let her.
With no consideration at all,
Of how I'll feel by it all.
Now, I'm alone,
The word itself is me.
And the only thing that keeps me going,
Is; "If he were here,
How far will I be from this five cruel wording"
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 1:03 PM UTC
Anthropology teaches us that alpha male;
is the one that is wearing the crown,
displaying the colorful plumage,
shiniest bubbles,
stands out from the others,
but I may have now realize that anthropology may have it wrong,
I've come to realize that;
the quiet man,
the invisible man,
the man that is always there for friends and family,
that's the real alpha male.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
i don't want to flatten you out
put you on a frame in the hall of fame
where people would go just to gawk and stare at you
that would be so cruel of me, because you-
you
are so much more complex than that
you are the foundation of a house
something everyone takes for granted because they cant see it
how many times have you slipped out unnoticed
by those looking for the shiniest, brightest stars in the world
if you look for those
you miss the planets
you miss the way that you sleep with a shirt over your head to "block out the light" so you can sleep better
you miss the ridiculous, pleasurable conversations
"did you know that Louie Armstrong would cut off the callouses on his lips with a pocket knife?"
"we should write a comic strip about a starch that smokes **** and call it "The Baked Potato."'
let's keep away from the photographers, the paparazzi, the artists, the writers
you hate attention anyway
said you would rather "sleep on the roof for a week" than give a presentation in public
i have discovered you
but i won't ever tell
the books will not mention you
there will be no statues of us
but the ones we build with sugar cubes on the privacy of our own kitchen table
where messes like us can be swept away and kept in no other place than our memories
and the storage on my phone
i will memorize the lines on your torso and back
but children will never study you in geography, they will never be asked the year you were born or at what latitude and longitude your chest muscles meet your abdominals
a search on Google will pull nothing about you
you remain undiscovered
to all
but me.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC
I’ve learned
Life is grey, not black and white
We dream in color, but we end up in that
84 by 28 patch of dirt in the worm-holed ground
Dreaming of the dull vague color of our lives
I’ve learned
that if a tornado swirls through your little hometown
and uproots your house through that baby blue sky
you put on that little black dress the next day
and put on your shiniest smile
like you’re the leading star in Broadway’s premier show
I’ve learned
people always leave
even if you stay on the cold floor and beg
until your tired knees are
Black and blue from the stained hardwood floor
I’ve learned
that the sad feeling never departs
you’re stuck in the impossible labyrinth
Tripping on unyielding stones that leave
Lines of scarlet like height marks on a door
I can say that I have learned so much
Have I really learned anything at all?
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Your
very existence
sometimes
brings me to tears.
How
we met so
beautiful, yet,
so unusual
only
urging me
to get closer
and closer
to you
like two black holes
clashing together
creating something
greater than the
sum of our parts.
I long for our
bond,
our relationship,
will be
as strong
as the bonds
held together
in the shiniest
and most lustrous
aggregated diamond nanorod.
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
I'd never seen her so beautiful,
the color of life now covering her once ivory complexion.
The heart that once beat is now stagnant and black.
This thing in my hand, locked and loaded;
the shiniest gunmetal I've seen in a while.
Her only solitary life now gushing from her head.
Why did I take her life you ask?
It was those eyes...those godforsaken white, sightless eyes!
They never saw anything I am or ever will be.
All I ever wanted was for her to see!!
I've wanted to gouge them out since the day our two
lives became a single, cohesive one.
But it was those eyes that drove me to this.
Never had she seen my face.
Why is this just now occuring to me?
Yes, of course I loved her.
Mad? Why would you say that?
What is a madman? Me? A madman?
Preposterous!! What is a madman?
Certainly not in comparison to me.
I am the spitting image of true sanity...
Or am I?
I see no wrong doing in my actions.
I was simply doing her a favor...
Though, I probably should've been more humane
with the child she was carrying...
My child! My own flesh and blood!! Gone forever!
But it was for the good of both of them I presume...
There was a good chance my son would've been blind.
...My son!! My baby boy!!! How tragic a day this is!
Well, there wasn't any stipulation to 'Till death do us part'.
There wasn't any specification on how it was to happen.
I look to the gunmetal again.
It is to blame for this tragedy...
I hold the faithful steel grey to the side of my head
and look to my deceased spouse and unborn child.
Finally, I give the gun one final squeeze goodbye...
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
Swinging is the closest I've felt to flying.
Closest to freedom.
And how can freedom be safe?
I can not fly safely.
I can not live safely.
No matter how beautifully it's built,
Even with the smoothest marble,
Or the shiniest metal,
Or the prettiest chains,
Your armor is still a cage.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
She was a missile
Dropped from the outer space
****** into the black hole
Into a parallel universe
And as she landed in my arms
It was all meant to be
She was here meant to make this universe happy.
The sparkle of her eyes
Showed the thrill of the skies
The starburst, the planets collide
The world I waited to see
The world she wanted to show me
A world of ecstasy.
She ran through the fields
I tried to hold her leash
But she freed herself and ran further
But looked back to see me
On the ground, all cut and bruised
Because of her energetic force,
She ran back and kissed all my tears
And we ran together in the fields of
Flowers that bloomed as she ran through
All the flowers bloomed in the barren land
Her happiness was contagious.
Her little tail wagged as I played along
And her tiny paws scratched my skin red
But those scars are all I had
Of her to remember her
Not a picture nor a painting to show
The love she engraved in my soul
She was a missile
Gliding through the winds
Taking you along in her adventures
Taking you along with her alluring smile
That others fail to see in her creature
We are odd to think we're not animals
Cause she wasn't any animal too
She was just another soul
A soul that mingles with the winds
makes the air laugh so much
It's difficult to breathe.
She was a missile
And she burst as fast as
She landed here
In my arms
And exploded bringing the sparkling tears that were
The starburst, the planets colliding
The world that I knew someday I'd see
The world she showed to me
The dreary universe she left in glee.
She is wizzing through the skies now
Among the burning stars
She is a shooting star now
Ready to enter another universe
Look out for her, the brightest one she'll be
The one that'll make you smile, she'll be,
She is there to make your wishes true.
She is a missile
She'll catch your eye
The shiniest one in the sky
It is all meant to be
She is there to make another universe happy.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC