"smudged" poems
If I wasn't gay would people care?
Would they actually let me breath the same air?
Could I actually go to school,
without people being so cruel?
Could I live in a world with no hate?
Maybe people would love me if I was straight.
It's not as easy as people think.
I can't just go to a shrink.
I didn't choose to be this way.
You really think I'd want to be gay?
I don't want attention,
I don't want fame.
This isn't some sort of game.
I am who I am and thats okay.
Most people don't see it that way.
I only wish I could be the same.
To have a wedding and it not be shamed.
I want to have kids and not be judged.
I don't want my reputation smudged.
But apparently I'm different now.
Sick in the head somehow.
Therapy and shock treatment for something that can't be fixed.
How did I get put into this mix?
Toxic and tragic,
that's my life.
It's like I was stabbed in the back with a knife.
I'm gay,
what's wrong with that?
I get treated like some rat.
Using your holy books and your religion.
To fight against something that makes no difference.
I want to be a human not a punching bag.
Always getting called a ***
Let that word have power and it gets to you.
But that words as good as whatever is stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
I love being this way.
I don't care what you say.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
I remember when you were four
I caught you drawing on the wall
I couldn't get mad
Instead I just laughed
And I still have
The finger print painting
that you made
In fact I had it framed
I have every art piece you made
To remind me that your always here
with me spiritually
All These tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away
Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's
Holding you in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams
We were at the hospital
I was sitting beside your bed
And you wiped the tears
Underneath my eyes
Then I heard you say
Daddy please don't cry
I like it better when you smile
So I smiled
Don't say no goodnights or goodbyes
Yeah princess your my little fighter
My inspiration, my perfection
My saviour, my hope, my strength
Your everything I am
I'll carry that with me forever
All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away
Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's
Holding you in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams
I still remember
when I heard the doctor say
(There's no heart rate)
That line still haunts me
Your mother and I fell to the floor
Neither of us wanted to get back up
It felt like we cried for hours
And then I felt
something give me strength
Then I remembered what you said
Daddy please don't cry
I like it better when you smile
So I pulled myself back up
from the floor
Took your mother in my arms
Carried her back to the car
You were every step
You were every breath
All These tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away
Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams
I still remember when
I heard the priest say
May she rest with angels
watching over her
May they share there
infinite love on high
May they protect
her blessed soul
Let the Lord take her
Into his loving arms
To keep her safe from harm
I said Amen to that princess
And I've seen you in the stars
Yeah you'll never be to far
For we are always
With in each other's hearts
All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away
Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams
Sometimes I sit in your empty room
Imagine you playing, drawing
Creating all those games
You used to play
With your vivid imagination
A world of your creation
It's like your still here
I can feel your essence
I can feel your presence
In this place
It's where I go to relive your memory
That you left for me
All these tear drops
That fall upon the page
Creating smudged ink stains
As this pen bleeds
Words drenched in sorrow
An empty heart slowly fades
Can't seem to find a way
To release all this pain
Can't seem to find the words to say
I miss you each and everyday
Can't find a logical reason to explain
Why you were taken away
Can't forgive God
For what he's done
Just hope he's holding
You in his arms
Keeping you safe and warm
You got the voices of angels
Who can serenade
And sing you to sleep
And I'll keep you safe
Inside of your dreams
©2018 Written By Benji James
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
Its easy to call someone beautiful when they have spent an hour doing there hair and make up, when they are wearing a skin tight cocktail dress and a push up bra
Its more difficult to say it when the hair gets tied up and the make up is smudged by tears the dress replaces with a stained t- shirt
Because as I'm looking in the mirror right now the last word that comes to my mind is beautiful...
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
i’ve never had feelings for anyone who could be good for me. i’ve never been interested in someone where a good, healthy relationship could’ve resulted, and maybe that’s why i’m so jaded, because everyone i’ve ever liked has just been a distraction or a house on fire— someone i know i shouldn’t be involved with, but i’ll give myself just a few more days to run around frantically with my hands over my eyes, peaking through the cracks between my fingers, searching for things i know i don’t really need, and then i’ll dash out and run down the driveway and the smog will linger for a little while, and the neighbors will complain, and i’ll sit on the curb with my forehead on my knees, holding nothing but intangible regret. next, i’ll either get over it, or obsessively think about him and the ashes smudged on the inside of my eyelids for longer than my sanity. i’ve never really liked someone and been able to daydream about the real possibility of us turning into something greater; of tire swings and painted mailboxes and overgrown, green lawns. it’s always been pretending and fake hope and melodramatic doom. i think it’s messed up my perception of having feelings for someone, because i can never take it seriously— either i know he’s not right for me, or i know the circumstances prohibit the possibility of us. it makes me never want to give anyone a chance (i can’t even see anyone worth chance-giving) because i know how it ends. i don’t like having this closed off heart so early on; i’m too young to be this bitter.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
.
*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes
And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that*
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
The sea was once our prehistoric home.
O how we adapted to its dark currents,
to its India-ink infinities,
chasing seaweed, driftwood and coral,
before belly-flopping onto dry ground.
Now, the sea threatens our ancestral home,
the sea that falls from the angry skies
with their charcoal-smudged infinities.
A swelling flood, chasing red alert,
destroying houses and lives; raining grief.
Once sea-bound creatures now drown at home,
ill-adapted to meet the flood's malevolent intent:
to purge the Earth of all who cannot resist
the rushing, rising mountains of waters,
before proclaiming its final conquest of India's ancient lands.
Now, only prayer will be our home, built on deepest despair.
Now, only God's omnipotent infinities
circle the mud-brown rapids of sludge
choking all who helplessly cross their path.
Only God can make Kerala and Tamil live again, as one, on dry, holy ground.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
awakening with the gradual rise
of the subdued heather hued sun
a palpable spectral silence permeated the air
the anticipation of celebration intercepted
by an enveloping phantom black malaise
hiding in obscure shadows
the terror of the twin towers final doom
elucidated quivers of melancholic nuances
rippling through the greying vicinity
my birthday september 11th a tuesday
my night to sing at abravanel hall
with the utah symphony
unable to serenade death
our voices remained indubitably silenced
in hushed wistful reverence
ensuing 9/11s channel somber sentiments
cloaked with annihilation while
dark visions occupy smudged iphone screens
this anniversary i will dissipate despair
transmuting dark despondency
splashing all with lucent petals of delight
i’ll live this day with passionate intensity
and those subsequent with equal ardor
ferociously painting back the light
i will raise my voice with effervescence
and sing in wild abandon
for my precious brothers that were lost
demonstrating devotion through a refusal
to be silenced by fear bestowing honor
with a conspicuous message that love wins
©2016janetaylor
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Alone with a shot of liquor,
Wishing for the time to pass quicker.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Staring at a clock,
Hoping these thoughts I could block.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Watching hours tick by,
Trying to believe my own formulated lie.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
I wonder what I did to deserve this,
Wondering what did I miss,
Or why I care so much for a single kiss.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Seems like it's been years since I here I sat,
With too many shots; head pounding, after that.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
People tell me to get a grip,
Telling me my sanity's in a constant slip.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
My friends want me sober,
I only wish it to be over.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
I've gone through a lot,
Most of it smudged, more of a blot.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Stains on my conscience,
Tears in my heart,
Waiting for a single correspondence,
Before I rip myself apart.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Left me torn,
Alone to mourn.
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
Whose mistake am I,
And why are these tears leaking from my eyes?
Mistakes,
Heartaches,
I'm reaching for the next shot of liquor,
Wishing for the time to pass quicker.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
Cinnamon peppers
the rooftops in December
and the shattered
whispers over the hills.
It makes you sneeze
and your fingers
freeze
which causes
evermore solace
with the warming fumes
of myrrh.
The bubbles
which circle the edge
of your tea, darling,
pop on your nose
as the steam rises
we sit in rose,
while outside
the horizon is smudged
with ash, and coal
and dirt.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
Dear *******
How dare you call me an attention *****
How dare you tell me you understand?
Tell me,
Do you know what it’s like to look at your reflection,
And turn the other way, ashamed?
Do you know what it’s like,
To know you’re you,
Down to the last hair,
And hate yourself for it?
To stare at yourself, to look into your own eyes, to try to convince yourself that it’s fine, but in actuality it’s a cover that you’ve learned to wear everywhere, that you’ve learned to love, because when you’re in it nobody knows?
Do you know what it’s like to walk everywhere, terrified, because you feel people looking at you like you have a giant sign that reads “DEPRESSED ANXIETY FAT UGLY NEVER ENOUGH SO KEEP WALKING”?
Tell me, do you know what it’s like to look in the mirror, force upon your face a smile, knowing it’s a mask that’s been permanently glued to you by your own tears that could never show?
No, you don’t know what it’s like to wipe away your smudged makeup that you’ve worked so hard on to cover up your tearstained eyes, your cuts.
To apply a new coat, to paint on a smile that’s only real in dreams.
*You know, they say dreams come true but forget that nightmares are dreams too.
They tell you the monsters are under your bed when they actually scream in your head.*
You don’t know what it’s like to feel lonely in a crowd, to know you’re not wanted.
To hold and rock yourself because there’s no one else to.
To realize that you’re all you have and doing your best to hide anyway,
Do you know what it’s like to want to die?
No.
You don’t and you never will.
But I do.
You don’t know me, or what I’ve been through.
So don’t ******* judge me for it.
Sincerely,
Me
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
God willing, she said,
Looking at the dwindling garden flowers
This winter we’ll have blooms of marigold.
Her clayed hands some smudged on her face
They speak of her hard stolen recess
From the grinding chores of running a family
And still when the wind turns cold
Dream for beds of marigold!
God willing
Before her dream’s warmth fades
The garden will be blooming with marigold beds.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:15 AM UTC
I wish that I could crochet in the bath.
I would lie a board across the ledges, if I had one long enough
As my fingers intertwined in the soft wool
Little water droplets would settle
Like frozen tears of glass.
That would just be for a moment, before it grew heavy
and sodden.
I've read like that before,
the pages have become crispy and smudged
That shows love and warmth
But wet wool seems cold and miserable.
If I dropped a needle in the water it would become rusty,
Useless and uncomfortable.
I would crochet in the bath, but I don't think I could find a board long enough.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
Every year is the same,
same people,
same places,
same time,
same faces.
They bring me their labeled tickets,
the same ugly tan-colored, black-inked tickets.
Bent and smudged as if it went through their wash.
No time for conversation,
not even small talk,
only the same old.... hello.
They sit, they smile, they leave.
They sit,
on that same old boring brown box,
"Feet placed where the red exes are please."
You think they'd already know that by now.
They smile,
tilting their head to the right,
their eyes looking directly at the lens,
looking as if they were hypnotized.
They leave,
the camera flashes bringing them back to realization,
they release their breath,
"Goodbye!" They say,
"Have a nice day!" They say.
Who I wanted to be is who I am not today,
who I wanted to be is not where society has placed me,
who I wanted to be is what society calls a joke,
who I wanted to be is free.
A photographer.
Not here working for life touch taking pictures of the same bland faces,
I imagined myself... flying,
Like a bird traveling around the world,
Capturing every moment I see,
Where the natural light glistens across the landscape,
where i can direct the poses of my subject.
But instead,
i'm stuck here taking pictures for life touch
of the same people,
at the same places,
of the same faces.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
What the **** am I doing with my life
There is no gain
Would you like a large fry with that pain
Thanks, come again
She seems miserable and glowing
Contoured on smile
Forcing her to be happy
Counter tops seem befitting tonight
God, I lost my light
Life seems to strip you naked
Bare and thin, it's always in
Lust will **** you dry
Leaving you asking why
She sweats smudged transgressions
He pushes deeper in
His ****** tension draws her sin
She never was meant to win
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 11:56 PM UTC
Hands smudged from the filth
Stuck down in his fingernails
Worked to Impress her.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
White figure on me
Heavy like clouded panes
Smudged by me
But self-cleaning
White ghost sinking into
My muddy chest
The night takes the sun
The cloud is now black
But still it is so wet
Soaking my skin in a deep
In a deep you
Cloudy white is my favourite white
My pallet is now white
Dipping my brush
It’s wet
And now it’s white too
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of the them all?
Not you of course, your hair's a fright.
Those fuzzy strands are quite the sight.
Your lipstick’s smudged,
Your eyes too small,
You hardly resemble a model at all.
Your torso's too short,
Your ******* are too small,
Your thighs are too wide,
And your nose is too long.
But,
Before you start crying,
Or making a fuss,
Remember your eyes are not to be trust.
An image of beauty that you fail to see,
Is reflected directly in front of me.
My dear, I'm not lying,
It's as plain as can be.
A vision of beauty stands before me.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
A smudged grainy ring against blue lines
it cuts through his handwriting like a breadknife
the blue ink ripples with the water-damaged paper
reassuringly human amidst the bleached whiteness
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
the truth is no one ever taught me how to fix a flat tire or how to ask for help or what love was even good for in the first place
and the truth is that the cookie was good but the lemon icing wasn't and the truth is baking should be done without any kind of lemon at all
and the truth is i wish you'd hold me close enough that our skin fused together and i could burrow into your spine and learn all the things you won't teach me
and the truth is you were never good at making eye contact but i dare you to look at me long enough that i can trace the line that connects your iris to your pupil and count how many shades of black a person can produce
and the truth is i don't know if the grass has fingerprints but i know that yours are cigarette stained and no better at letting go than mine
and the truth is i am a dump site and you are an inhale and i am clockwork and you are a melody and i can't keep my teeth off your eloquence
and the truth is my feet are covered in acrylic paint from leaving smudged footprints in sparkly things
and the truth is i don't want you all to myself but you can pretend i'm yours when i'm engulfed in the ocean and making it hard for you to breathe
and the truth is i'm looking for a different kind of intimacy from you
and maybe it's just some teenage girl talking but the truth is that i want to drown with you. i want to burn with you. i want to scream with you so violently that the body that crushes my lungs crumbles and i become a balloon for real this time
and the truth is, if you hadn't called me beautiful, i would have mistaken last night for a paradise i don't believe in
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
She danced across the sidewalk
Her tiny boots splashing the puddles of color
Blue, pink, green, yellow
Her pigtails smudged with paint
Brown, blonde, black, red
She dances through the rainbow rain.
He walks to work, leaden, heavy
His shoes are black, but polished
With red, and orange, and yellow
His hat is dark blue and his coat is green
His smile is coal, traced in red,
His face white, with eternal teardrops
Etched on his face.
The boy and girl, young, shy
Their hands delicately intertwined with strands of purple
Strings of yellow electricity
Jumping from heart to heart
Red raindrops fall up from the sidewalk
Gravitationally drawn to them
Tracing their faces before flying away.
The seagull collides with clouds of orange
His wing tips blue and wispy
His beak green as the sea
Purple fog tints his stomach
As he tumbles through aqua wind
My window only filters mango light
My ceiling the color of honey
The air above the floor is black
The space beneath the ceiling is white
And everything in between covers my body
In rainbow rain.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
The mirror looking back at her
screams compliments over the loud music
coming from the stereo behind.
With artfully smudged eyeliner,
she slips into the little black dress
purchased from the cheap lingerie shop
down the street from her apartment complex.
Six inches above the concrete sidewalk
clicking with every step,
a lit cigarette dangling at her teeth,
she walks proudly to the ball
twenty minutes past midnight.
The morning after;
spiked hot coffee in hand
to cure mistakes of the previous night
and a knock on the door
greets a worsening headache.
The door opens to a well dressed man
and a tiny glass slipper
atop a diamond-studded throne.
He holds the delicate shoe to her foot,
toe nails painted black,
and patiently waits for a response.
“Those aren’t my red stilettos.”
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Last night I woke up
to the light of 1000
dead children from other
places where faces have
forgotten how to smile
in ***** white shirts
and smudged skirts
holding up lanterns
like lost miners looking
for answers in a dark hole.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
makeup smudged, mascara runs
down the face of that stupid *****
Canceled plans, teenage antics are now ******* up and forgotten
fooling everyone but her self, she wears her heart upon her sleeve
wrapped up in others concerns, forgotten who she use to be
only comfortable when not her self, what a depressing life to lead
She is on a leash being tugged and pulled, she knows she has a master
behind the painted nails and the perfect scented perfume lies a ***** at deaths door
Jan 1, 2010
Jan 1, 2010 at 1:43 PM UTC
You make my red lipstick smudged from all your kisses...
{E.I}
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC