"smirk" poems
The throbbing headache and nausea
I can endure; I've had worse.
Right now I could cry,
such a raw hope consumed me
as I thought about you, desperate.
It was still dark for me then,
when I needed you. Now it's day.
It brings a true smirk to my face
to know you are nothing more
than a night of binge drinking:
a foolish part of my youth,
a consequence of boredom.
I could not hold your liquor,
I vomited all that bile you said to me
in the hedges outside. Don't fret,
this is not a bad memory, in fact
you might never be a memory at all.
I am well. I will drink better and
far more dangerous poisons.
I am today, you are only last night.
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
when a poet falls in love with you
you can never die
they will notice the way
you rub your palms and look down
when someone is angry at you
and the way you smirk
as you pull away from a kiss
they will notice how you can't sleep
without your body touching someone else's
how you never crease any pages of books
and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen
with your record player on
they will find all of the words
that they see you as
and turn them into something beautiful
people say you die twice
once when you stop breathing
and when someone says your name
for the last time
if you fall in love with a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
I am not superman.
I carry around guns for protection.
I have killed many
And never was sorry.
I have stolen from men
who have stolen from others.
Do not look at me as a savior,
Not even as a big brother,
because I am nothing of a role model.
My wings have broken
and I don't even have a place to call home.
Pain is written on my skin with the smirk of a devil
leaving cracks all over for sorrow to sneak its way in and bury itself deep into my bones.
So give me hope because I'm not man enough to create my own.
I keep putting other's lives before mine hoping that counts as love
but wind up realizing that doesn't count as anything
Trust me, I'm no superman.
I can't even save myself.
I've burned my cape in the fires of hell because I've been there enough
to know I can't wear it anymore.
I have flaws enough to fill the ocean and I'm sick of drowning
and I'm tired of counting dead bodies
and I’m tired of swimming through waves I'm not big enough for.
So hear the violin and piano play my symphony
of the fallen man.
I never said I could fly.
I never said I could save your life.
I never gave up though.
So hold me tight and let me finally break and fall into the arms of someone I can trust and someone I know that'll keep my heart safe buried next to theirs.
I've played wicked games and lost too many times and now I just want to sleep.
I'm tired of turning up black and blue
But I'll do anything to protect you.
If you were never here then I would have ended this a long time ago.
I would have welcomed the salt water into my lungs
Or fall asleep in a tree and meet death in the morning as I hang in silence.
But now I beg for hope because I'm torn apart.
But I know am seen as your superman so I’m going to hang on with all my might,
And live this life with you
as a hero
as your superman.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 7:17 AM UTC
You broke my wings
You dragged me down
With every word you let me down
Nearly touching the ground
I knew what I had to do
Escape from you
Yet I kept listening to your lies
Staring death right in the eye
You dropped me down a cliff
Down in the water
I couldn't breathe
**Still under deep water
I try to find my way out of the dark**
On the edge of the cliff I imagine
You watched me fall with a smirk
I can still see the smile on your face
It was my turn to fly
But you cut out my wings and threw me down
Give me back my freedom
I've been drowning for too long,
Release me now
I would do anything to swim back out
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
You
the one with messy brown hair
brown eyes
with you birthmark over the left side of your face.
You who left me crying.
You who made me believe in love for the first time.
You who stole my first kiss
first time
first.
You
with your straight blonde hair
blue eyes
and that stupid smirk
You who left me broken
You who showed me a new way of living
You who left me being second choice
second best
second.
You
with your dark blonde hair
hazel eyes
you with your beautiful hands
You who left me angry
You who showed me a different way of love
You who went with me on my third concert
third love
third.
You
with your curly brown hair
hazel eyes
with your cute braces you never liked
You who left me questioning
You who showed how hard love can be
You who decided I wasn´t worth it
You never happend
We never did.
I
with wavy dark brown hair
hazel eyes
with freckles on my face
I who loved everyone of you
but still couldnt forget you,
number two
I who loved everyone of you
but you left me wanting more,
number four
I who loved everyone of you
was being loved.
but not anymore.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
When I opened my eyes I did not see my husband. No longer was I staring into the eyes of the man I had married. What stood over me was dark... Was like a demon ready to feast on a meal that could serve an entire colony for a month. This monster gazed over my body and stared at me like the last ounce of satisfaction in existence. And with that final smirk he unleashed the beast that would rob me of total control and devoured me whole. My soul was painted with the lust of this being. This creature... this thing... this being of unholy and complete dominance... he had done the unthinkable. He was not the man I had married... oh no.. he was much much more... he was my soul mate... and that night... we made total and complete love. not in the sheets of a single room, but we broke the laws of the universe and let the stars bare witness to this event.. this new chapter. A new type of beginning. A new type of... 'Big bang"... A new start of creation. This was not simply a kink but absolute and pure passion. His eyes roared with obsession and utter desire to please me and worship my very existence. Gods would not understand such treatment, Titans could never even begin to comprehend the concept of it. It just simply was and forever could be known as... Love.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
Success never came without critique & hate
No matter friend or foe, they'll close down their gate.
The smile will turn into a smirk
The eyes will change into a lurk
Some may even walk on to the other side
But that's when you'll know you're doing it right
Your light maybe blinding to some
and some may even turn to ash
but don't give heed to the glare,
whispers and oh all the gnash.
Dance on your victory, you've made them so proud,
the ones who love you; so bring down the shroud;
of darkness and dullness & shout out to call,
your strength and beauty that some may appal.
Cause' you are a diamond that shines oh so bright,
but some may not see it,
so why don't you guide.
Cause' you've got it right
So stand tall with pride
Cause' you are the light
and you shine so bright.
A.S.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
She introduced herself, as
Sunset.
Batted her lashes not to be flirtatious ,
But to hide that her eyes were wet.
All around me were blurred, but beautiful faces.
Yet, my eyes only focused on hers
The first that I noticed.
*When I bought my first camera,
From that sales-man down in Alabama.
And he taught me how to use it,
He said, "see here son, if I was to take your picture I'd set this camera here on portrait.
But if I took a picture of that pretty little girl 'cross the road"
he said with a smirk
"I'd have to set this here camera on Firework"*
It's funny how memories work.
I think of that man now, of his coffee colored skin and straw hat.
I never thought I'd need to know any of that.
but right here and now I set that camera to sunset.
raise it to my eye
And take a picture of
Sunset.
As if she were a colorful sky.
and that's it.
some people deserve more than a portrait.
And I know, I'm going to take her to a dark room.
And see what develops, of her negatives.
But first, I want to hear all about her crazy relatives.
Who gives her, her beauty?
where's she take her dog to groom?
The poodle on her leash is a cutie.
and what does she doodle on her notebooks?
stars or hearts or sugar skulls....
Does she know she's caught me on her fishin' hook?
What's she think of me, I'm sure I look dull.
Why are her teary eyes so full, About to overflow.
There were so many things I wanted to know....
before I took her to a dark room.
But it happened
And all I found in the picture that developed was gloom.
I realized I was her first.
And the best night of my life became my worst.
because I took something from her she didn't want to give.
But I just didn't know that she wouldn't want to live.
Keep reading, this ends beautifully.
beautifully like a sunset ends a day.
But, you have to believe me when I say that's not nearly as beautifully
As Sunset ends my hopes and dreams.
How she ended her own life
With pretty little pink pills.
One....Two....Three
gripped in her hand they found a picture of me.
And now I know, Sunsets are all about Beautiful Endings.
It's funny how memories work
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
My bed may not be as large
As California or have a blanket
As deep as the ocean.
But it’s comfy and shares
The same view as if we were there.
When I am asleep with you,
Everything becomes ideal.
One of the best feelings the universe
Could bestow.
To discover a slice of heaven beside you.
A spoon finding it’s way
To the big dipper, in the same
Lineage of how I see you.
We stargaze with our eyes closed,
Watching the stars bloom like flowers
In complete comfort.
The urge to explore further,
A simple look, a simple smirk
Head nestled deep in a pillow.
The aspirations of becoming an astronaut
Become that much clearer.
I blast off & everything becomes dark
My reflection staring at yours beneath mine,
Until I see your face spread wide
Across the moon.
Happy and safe,
My voyage is now complete
Oct 19, 2021
Oct 19, 2021 at 2:41 PM UTC
it's cold and dark and calm outside
so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight
but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar
whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar
i'm high as hell so you carried me home
and wrapped me up into a bed of your own
you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor
and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore
because i can't even remember my name
may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game'
my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew
but that doesn't seem to matter to you
i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt
you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk
as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress
i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress
i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle
you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful
i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged
as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed
you tell me you've just got a text from my mother
who says she trusts me with you and no other
and that you are under very strict instructions
to keep me away from all teenage destruction
it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool
but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full
my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room
and i beg you to play me my favourite tune
an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords
and ramble on about how i'm probably bored
but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin
and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin
and as you place the battered guitar back down
you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now
the buzz of my body and the smile on my face
shows that here, happiness is truly the case
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
I’m rendered powerless. Just about breathless. I watch as each layer of clothing gravitates toward the floor. Strip off the clothes that enveloped his beauty. My knees begin to fail me. Through his stare it feels as though he’s already probing every crevice of my being. Eye-fingers ravish me. He’s bare. My eyes haven’t left him. He smirks, refusing to leave me a spectator. Clammy hands penetrate the chill of the tile lined room. He strips me. I'm sure he senses me shaking.. goosebumps begin to rise. We step into shower. The tap is high, the temperature hot. The passion as well. He’s capturing me. Rapturing my frame, Grasping me. Gasping for me. He pulls me into him.. into the air. My legs incoherently wrap around him. The hot vapors aren't from the water, but our lust we heed. It’s wet. "Think ya can make it to the bedroom?" My throat closes. Barley touching, the pleasure, pressure, of his words render me unable to respond clearly. I nearly whimper out an answer. The smirk returns. This act meant for cleansing morphs into such a ***** one. I’m miserable within myself, the sheer amount of desire burns. Pushing me to the wall his body presses against me. He pushes into me. His hips. His lips. I feel him sliding in and out, violating, his tongue twisting around my own. His body as well. We’re intertwined...
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
Too long this rot has run its course, too much the damage done
When men deflect acknowledged glance, they know that wrong has won.
Across this land and far afield the wrongness seeps within
And pride becomes a memory through distant halls of spin.
How can we bow to tyranny, how can we shy away
From that which causes eyes to slide.... and coaxes will to sway?
To tolerate the bombast, the bullying, the lies
Succumbing to a hopelessness, which, both we despise.
Division in the nation, uproar in between
A man and wife’s contention-ness beyond what should be seen
Brothers loathing brothers, silence in the room
Where a word uttered wrongly can erupt to screaming soon.
Allies left in tatters, trust is cut to shards
Tariffs injudiciously, imposed to **** the cards.
International uproar, industry in strife
Teetering disastrously when NATO flees the knife.
Putin sits and rubs his hands, hilarious the show
Disorder and disharmony to lubricate his glow.
Beijing sits inscrutably, always opportune
Manoeuvring judiciously, in place, to call the tune.
America, the isolate, sails away to sea
Blondini, at the helm, wears smirk indulgently.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON NZ
12th July 2018
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction
They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody
They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you
They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair
They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.
Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone.
School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities
But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.
You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree
As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth
As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge
And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it
And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.
Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious
Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.
Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.
And that is my definition of school
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
everything is on sale
and I eat and eat
and yell at the couple
arguing in the ATM line
and smirk at the pharmacist
as I toss my meds in the
can behind the counter
king soopers
my realm
of crushed potpourri
honeycrisp apples
black cocktail dresses
stuck
shut with
peanut butter
I love grocery
shopping.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
There's something
in your smile
that leaves me lingering
for a long while
and as I start that
tiresome home bound mile
I can't help but remember
standing on your kitchen tile
And gazing upon
that smirk full of guile
all those familiar
feelings compiled.
Darling you left me
quite beguiled.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
Once not long ago
In the vile state of Utah,
An evil wizard
Impregnated a feral cat with
Mormon seed.
In no time at all,
A litter was born
And all of them died
But one–
Mittens the Kitten.
Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement
Because the evil wizard filled his head
With the Mormon scriptures.
When Mittens would catch and **** a mouse,
The evil wizard would pet Mittens
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
In the evenings,
Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood.
Sometimes it would coagulate,
But Mittens loved his blood.
He lapped it up
With a a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad,
And since feline-humanoids were not accepted
At Harvard Business School,
The evil wizard taught Mittens
All that he knew.
Mittens soaked up the knowledge
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Some years went by and Mittens
Became a successful business owner.
He would lap up bowls of
Other people's business
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Fast forward to the present tense
(My personal favorite tense)
And Mittens is running for president.
He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies
So that naive voters might believe that
They should vote for this cat.
He smirks and he lies
With a vigor that is borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
The Eid is bustling with joy
come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
To the deathless groovy paradise
floating high on the elixir flow:
The triumphant joyous wave
streamed up from the secret bottom line!
Up above the lapis lazuli sky.
A pair of butterfly basks
in the sunlight
quietly indulges in style.
It goes on in slow motion
illuminating the night a firefly
perches on a slice of the Moon
flanked by the moonlight.
But you and me
we will rhyme and chant
in our lovely mother tongue.
In the same original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks up and all
angels listen in paradise’.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
On the wings of the moonlight
we will
s
a
i
l
away!
Ambling by the Moon
we'll **** through the starry nooks.
Eyes open and gently perched
atop a star for a moment or two.
We will see miles of galaxies
over the moonlit lakes of the blue
playing cool ravishing lutes!
The spring night is in bloom
and the cute sleeping beauty
wakes up playing the flute!
Musical half lights filling the sky.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
We’ll drink sharaban tahura
the holy wine of paradise
and once for all we will
k
i
s
s the death goodbye!
Our story will fill the divine soil
the heaven's flora and fauna
each and everyone will shine on our page
no houri will ever say finito singing our tale!
As Adam did it first stunned the angels
telling the nature of all things in paradise.
We will do that once more without a smirk
this time we will see the loving Creator!
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
During my manic episodes, you found me fun, fervent, even amazing. You told me that you wouldn’t trade my love for anything.
You told me that I made the butterflies dance in your stomach,
and made the demons disappear in your head.
With every “I love you,” there was a smirk and a kiss.
You told me that I was one of a kind
and you’d be there for me no matter what because you couldn’t imagine living without me.
After my first bad episode, you started telling me that my love was overbearing and you needed space.
You told me that you felt suffocated and I was like a child craving attention from their mother. You told me I was too repetitive and you just wanted to go get high.
Every time I said “I love you” you looked at me, shrugged, and said “me too.”
I asked you what happened to “forever” and you said only sane girls keep their prince.
You acted as if I got to pick and choose what disorder I wanted. As if being bipolar was a luxury I wasn’t taking advantage of.
When you got sent to a mental institution for attempting suicide, I searched for you for six hours until your mom told me where you were.
After you returned,
I helped you find yourself again and lost myself in the process.
I sacrificed everything for your well-being,
and you had no interest in mine.
You made me believe that being bipolar made you a terrible person, but then I looked at you with tearful eyes,
and got a peek at what terrible really is.
Thanks to you, I know who I am.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Once upon a winters eve, there was a young little fox. As she played around in the forest and snowy plains she kept trying to walk along the thick snowbanks. But she always seemed to fall into the snow. In the distance there was a older, but still young, snow leopard, watching and giggling as the little fox kept falling through. The snow leopard decided to get up and walk closer to the fox and softly he said with a happy laugh, "so what are you trying to accomplish?"The little fox looked up at the leopard with an annoyed looked as she poutingly explained, "The snow is to high and I am to small, and I can't seem to walk on top of it." She then sighed softly. The snow leopard laughed and smiled, "You can't just jump on it then. You can't try to walk on it," the leopard said with a grin. The little fox looked up at him in befuddlement with her bright blue eyes. The leopard slowly walked around the snow hole she was in and proceeded to explain, "You have to let it lift you," he smiled, picking her up by the scruff carefully, takeing her out of the hole and softly placing her on a less deep part of the snow bank, "Only when you understand this, may you be able to walk atop the snow."The little fox was still confused but was willing to learn, "What do you mean 'let it lift you'?" the little fox asked. The leopard smiled and lay on the snow, sticking his paws into the snow, "Every flake, like us, is different. Each one being different gives it it's own type of life, melting fast, or melting slow. Sticking firm, or lightly." he then softly blows the snow off his paws into her direction, "You have to let life of each of the snow flake be as unique as your life is and let it lift you. Let them lift you, as if it they were trying to show you somewhere new, to bring you places." He got up and started walking off atop of the snow, but then stopped and turning around and said with a big smile "Now do you see?" The little fox was still kinda confused, but when she looked at the beautiful snow, and saw each snowflake, a different shape, a different size, she smiled and believed what he said. The little fox looked back up at the leopard and softly placed her paw down on the snow before she said to him softly, "I think I get it..." She was afraid but she slowly started walking on top of the snow, step by step, not looking down, But looking to the leopard as she got closer to him. The leopard with a happy laugh, smiled and congratulated her, "There you go. Like a natural." The little fox smiled brightly and ran up to the snow leopard happily and excitedly asking him, "What can you teach me next?"The leopard laughed and patted her head with his paw. "My my, Looks like I have a little apprentice" the leopard said with a smirk, "We shall see where the wind and sun takes us and what lessons we have to learn as the days go on," the leopard said as they both started walking out into the setting sunlight.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
Not an enigmatic smile
Like the constipated, condescending smirk
Adorning, and inexplicably adored, on the Mona Lisa's smug face;
But a smile to justify God's existence;
A smile that, when dazzlingly bestowed
Upon one fortunate soul, caught rabbit-like in its
Wondrous radiance, infinitesimally, and cumulatively,
Increases the World's joy. Where every living thing -
Whatever exists on the planet, imperceptibly hums
To a new, more celestial pitch -
An effervescent vibration celebrating Life's mysteries:
A reason for existence.
It's a smile to make an Alchemist cry -
Turning a leaden heart to gold in an instant.
It's a smile to make a mediocre poet struggle
To articulate an adequate description
Using all the hyperbole, simile and metaphor at his limited disposal.
Inestimably more brilliant, and more valuable,
Than the most flawless diamond ever found -
And, perhaps, just as rare.
Thankfully, a renewable resource,
Enabled to enlighten and heat
The recesses of any beneficiary's
Heart and invigorate their soul.
Helen may have caused a thousand ships to sail,
Destroying a nation as a consequence;
And Cleopatra nearly caused the collapse of an Empire;
But Tao's smile, unleashed in all its glory
Could melt the Antarctic ice-sheet -
Drowning us all in its magnificence.
Mayan's have a myth that states such a smile
Only comes around once every twelve thousand years,
In the Great Galactic turning.
Einstein's General Theory of Relativity
Is often mistakenly considered to concern gravity,
But is, in fact, concerned with one's relative position
To Tao's smile - an inescapable vortex of pleasure.
No music conceived of the fabled Celestial Spheres
Compares to the silent, ethereal harmonies tattooing my heart
Whenever, beacon-like, that smile flashes fleetingly in my direction.
And Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle has not a Quantum core,
But revolves around the statistical uncertainty of being blessed
With the ephemeral thrill of a benign grim.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
As the smoke lingers off of her tongue,
you can see the smirk so evident on her face.
She traces the outline of her lips with her tongue
and gently inhales the cigarette smoke.
You can see the tiny glint of a ***** bottle on her nightstand
and the ashtray that is overwhelmed with burnt out cigarettes.
She is staring at the ceiling
and you have no idea what in the world she is thinking so hard about.
All you know is that you want to know.
And you want to know the way
her lips curve around the tempting neck of the ***** bottle,
or the way her tongue moves as she blows off smoke
from that cataclysmic cigarette she’s holding.
Alcohol and cigarettes,
that’s what everyone thinks ruins your life.
But those two things
are what saves hers.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
Wake up. Breathe. Take your pill please.
Exercise. Work. Don’t ever smirk.
Wrong. Right. No need to fight
Live. Die. Why even try?
The Political cult leads the day,
It dictates what we do, what we say.
Thinking is a luxury we shall soon not afford,
No more choices, at least.. not of your own accord.
You’ll get the news from an IV drip,
Government lies go straight to the chip.
Notifications from corporations and friend requests from secret police
Refuse one or all, it’ll be your fall, and your contract with us will cease.
We’ll delete your name, and wipe all the files,
Deny any knowledge and bury you under the tiles.
You’ll never be heard from, you’ll never be seen,
You’ll never have existed, you’ll never have been.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
To me patience looks like this...
It is this huge man will a long black overcoat with pockets
with shiny glasses and Grey eyes
and a face that is aged
and a smile that looks between a frown and a smirk
and a wooden smoke pipe in his mouth
with raggedy bag rip jeans
and black boots
He sits on this wooden chair
and is near a large tree
and he lights his smoke pipe
put one arm on top of one thigh
leans over and stares with you with those ancient, deep eyes
and says in a deep tone..
“go head, speak I'm waiting”
but then this will also describe what understanding looks like
So then they are both the same?....
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
For the first two months of college I didn’t speak
Convinced everyone here are hillbilly freaks
Then you asked to borrow my paint brush
Long brown hair in a bun and brows so lush
I gave it to you in a heartbeat
Because you were the first person I thought was neat
Im still not sure how I got so lucky to befriend you
I’ve never felt a connection this real and true
When we sit in the forest smoking **** and cigarettes
And you’re still wearing the same paint covered sweats
Singing to Rihannon by Fleetwood Mac
I felt myself gaining my soul back
I can’t decipher what’s hiding behind your dark brown eyes
But your passion for art is as tall as the skies
You inspired me to change my point of view
Maybe this place isnt so bad, who knew
Your kindness cracked my heart’s thick shell
And painted the lines with shades of pastel
No boy ever told me they cried when they moved away
Your open and truthful soul makes everything ok
The freckles sprayed on your cheeks are like artwork
That’s a companion piece to your crooked smirk
I cried thinking we would drift apart once school’s done
But you told me we’ll always be friends in the long run
So
Thank you
Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being who you are
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
My hair comes out but I stay true
It is unreliable, like you
I can pull it, twist it, I feel no pain
But I don't see what I then gain
You moved me and shaped me like I was your clay
I didn't complain, though my fabric would fray
I was too scared of going astray
The way you think makes me shrink
And still, I sink
So I'm falling
But conversation is stalling
Faraway voices calling
I stumble away, crawling
I look bad, but I don't feel so
First time for that, I know
Everything I say and do,
I was kept in line by you
And it's weird knowing someone so well
But feeling like you're under their spell
Yet nothing you do makes me afraid
Even though I'm in your charade
A masked ball, can I recall
Your face without fear?
When the fog becomes clear
Will you stop being austere?
Or return to your old ways, a smirk for your 'dear'
Like my hair, you are there,
But I can't make myself care.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC