"toned" poems
i had a thought.
i ran out of my room,
down the hallway,
and into the bathroom.
i wriggled out of my worn down, tie dye shirt.
hopping up and down as i pull off my
high-waisted jeans, pulling my pant leg with my foot as i
trample the dark denim to the ground.
i stand there naked, in front of the
harsh, full length mirror.
combing my fingers through my natural, wavy hair.
i contort my face in disgust, cocking
my head slightly to the side.
i close my eyes, and take one deep breath in.
when i open my eyes,
the reflection staring back at me is a thin, natural
beauty.
Her smooth ivory skin glows in the
silvery reflective glass.
Her stomach is flat and toned.
Her ******* lay on Her chest in perfect
proportion to the rest of her petite frame.
i run my fingers down the sides of my body.
my palms trailing along, dipping and
rising with the mounds beneath my skin.
i close my eyes and open them again,
this time taking my reflection for
what it really is.
i am fat.
my skin is pink and spotted with freckles the
colour of blood.
my stomach hangs low, covering the part
a man should see when i'm naked.
my ******* are big.
but not in the way you'd like them to be.
they lay there, sort of lop-sided.
hanging just above my ribs. Another place for
fat to take over.
the cuts on my thighs are hardly noticable
next to
all
that
fat
i can see tears in the eyes of the reflection staring back at me,
but i am numb.
i thought correctly. i am
fat. i am ugly.
Nobody in their right mind would want to
love me.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much?
Noticed I called you by your rightful title.
Negus
King, Ruler, Emperor
Not ***** or ******
The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable.
But anyway let's get back to it.
Why do you hate me?
Is it because of my full lips or my round hips?
My low tolerance for ********
The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin?
Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin.
Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion?
It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess!
So why not praise me for my natural features
Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements
Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale?
Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale.
But pardon my melanin
I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror
That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me
Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty
But pardon my melanin
My superiority is in my melanin
Encased in my skeleton
Our ancestors wouldn't like this
They would not be proud of that colorism that exist
They slander us for our features yet they list after it
This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit
You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother.
I am the fruit of this nation.
But pardon my melanin
So I'll ask again
Why do you hate me?
We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist
I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss
Melanin filled girls I am here to say
You are a queen never be afraid to be seen
The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd!
You are not ratchet bitter or mean
Youre a stunning melanin queen
So pardon my melanin?
Naw enlightened by me melanin.
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
You were a different version of the religion,
you were a ****** of the region when we met.
I had the brownest eyes. You had the greenest eyes.
chin sits perfectly in shoulder,
hand fits in hand, molded.
I had hair like a little girl's. You had hair like a little boy's.
Both half ****** my arms were as thin as yours, and toned.
You didn't own a single curve, just edges and bone.
Only your lips were soft. Only my lips were soft.
The fading light bounced off the angles of my abdomen and visible ribcage,
made your mouth water. With a shy,
curling finger,
you called me over to you.
It drove me wilder.
We undressed each other under the covers.
You giggled and I crumbled when you saw
I needed help with the clasp of your bra.
I chuckled, returned the favor when you gave up on my belt buckle.
I had the body of a little girl. You had the body of a little boy.
The sheets wound around and pressed us together,
You had the hardest hips. I had the hardest hips.
You compromised what was inside your mind;
I felt those first few moans rattle your
visible ribcage and escape through lips pursed
like a porcelain doll.
Took it all in, held on to your fragile frame
and from the moment we were free,
two children in the wilderness.
Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 8:00 AM UTC
Blonde hair, tight tanned body
Not usually my type but
You stir something in me down there.
You smile shyly,
Girl, you are going to get us into more trouble.
You don't seem to need much coaxing.
Down slides the red cocktail dress,
Your toned body freed.
Black lace ******* shielding heaven.
Soft lips on mine, feels so good
Supple ******* in the palm of my hand,
Pinching ***** ******* a specialty of mine.
Feeling you tremble underneath me
Floods my cup,
I cannot wait to taste you.
I feel your fingers slide
between my thighs,
As our tongues do ballet.
Going to gain our membership
to the sisterhood now.
Wet knuckle status.
We are top to toe,
Better access.
I am starving for you.
It wont take us long to reach Nirvana,
I get it now,
I would have burnt my bra if I ever wore one.
Your ****** and my mouth are a perfect match
I do not usually swing this way
but am honored to dip my toe in your pool.
Crying out you pull away.
That's not how I work,
You will leave complete or not at all
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
midnight skin blanketing
******* toned hips
a warm tongue points;
this
the taste of ecstasy on my
fingertips
taunts the rehab in my touch
yearning to risk it
pills litter stone-wood floors
as we **** through flaws
**** feelings carpet the inner raw**
moaning and creaking
of hard wood
boards
wild moods
bodies wet
clinging sensual monsoon
fiending for a fixing
we cut through
bleeding lust
******
sheets whispering drops of
crimson truth
as familiar sensations pulsate
we gyrate
losing focus of whose waist
hanging onto
****
don’t wait
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
half a cup of
a two toned muse
yeilds a quarter of
a sultry pair of cat eyes
& a tragic obsession
with princess serenity
stirred in with a dash of inconsistencies
and every teenage boys dream
under the heat of a mistress gaze
correcting grammar and errors
mixed in with your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
of féline decor
with shoes to complement
toss in a diamond ring
throughly wrapped around
your annulus finger &
indulge it with
strange behavior then
top it off with a silky whip
to accommodate
the quenching fluid of
a ******* *****
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
My arms wrapped around you, yours around me.
We stand together in our now natural hug.
Although my height is sometimes a challenge
You feel warm; your back is straight and toned.
How does our hug feel from your side?
Does my back feel firm or yielding?
What is the sensation under your fingers?
Of the fabric next to my skin, my undergarments?
Our hug is just one
Of a striking variety we receive in a lifetime
From friends, lovers, family, near-strangers
An act seemingly simple but in truth, complex
The first hug you remember from childhood: your Mum
Warm and safe, and maybe a little squeezed
But her blouse is soft, and her arms reach around you nearly twice.
You are so small, and she is so big.
Your teen-age years, acquaintances: single arm hug
Air kisses, a quick pat, a gentle rub
It’s social hugging to keep up appearances
Feeling awkward, you’d rather shake hands
Your first true love – long, grasping, gasping embraces
That leave invisible marks on your clothing and skin underneath
A desire for another, the promise of more
Maybe in future, the touch of your fingertips on clothing-free skin.
Again a hug from your Mum, 40 years after her first
The alignment is different; somehow she has shrunk
Still warm and safe, yet with a different body tone
A kiss on her cheek is soft to your lips – a hug to last the ages.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
A is the Alphabet, A at its head;
A is an Antelope, agile to run.
B is the Baker Boy bringing the bread,
Or black Bear and brown Bear, both begging for bun.
C is a Cornflower come with the corn;
C is a Cat with a comical look.
D is a Dinner which Dahlias adorn;
D is a Duchess who dines with a Duke.
E is an elegant eloquent Earl;
E is an Egg whence an Eaglet emerges.
F is a Falcon, with feathers to furl;
F is a Fountain of full foaming surges.
G is the Gander, the Gosling, the Goose;
G is a Garnet in girdle of gold.
H is a Heartsease, harmonious of hues;
H is a huge Hammer, heavy to hold.
I is an Idler who idles on ice;
I am I--who will say I am not I?
J is a Jacinth, a jewel of price;
J is a Jay, full of joy in July.
K is a King, or a Kaiser still higher;
K is a Kitten, or quaint Kangaroo.
L is a Lute or a lovely-toned Lyre;
L is a Lily all laden with dew.
M is a Meadow where Meadowsweet blows;
M is a Mountain made dim by a mist.
N is a Nut--in a nutshell it grows--
Or a Nest full of Nightingales singing--oh list!
O is an Opal, with only one spark;
O is an Olive, with oil on its skin.
P is a Pony, a pet in a park;
P is the Point of a Pen or a Pin.
Q is a Quail, quick-chirping at morn;
Q is a Quince quite ripe and near dropping.
R is a Rose, rosy red on a thorn;
R is a red-breasted Robin come hopping.
S is a Snow-storm that sweeps o'er the Sea;
S is the Song that the swift Swallows sing.
T is the Tea-table set out for tea;
T is a Tiger with terrible spring.
U, the Umbrella, went up in a shower;
Or Unit is useful with ten to unite.
V is a Violet veined in the flower;
V is a Viper of venomous bite.
W stands for the water-bred Whale;
Stands for the wonderful Wax-work so gay.
X, or ** or *** is ale,
Or Policeman X, exercised day after day.
Y is a yellow Yacht, yellow its boat;
Y is the Yucca, the Yam, or the Yew.
Z is a Zebra, zigzagged his coat,
Or Zebu, or Zoophyte, seen at the Zoo.
7.1k
dysphoria
is sitting in front of a mirror
for 30 straight minutes
picking out the tiny things
that make people misgender you.
trying to pull back your chest
pretending you have a flat one
scratching down your biceps
because maybe if they were more toned
you would be called a boy
clawing at your thighs
because if they were small and beautiful
then people might think you are a he
dysphoria
is sobbing while doing all of that
the mirror is now your enemy
giving you a million things to change
but you have no way of changing it.
maybe sleeping will help?
that is if you get past your thoughts
of your disgusting body
calm down for a bit to even let you slip into somber.
but then dreams come
you dream of being on testosterone
having a beard with a deep voice
maybe even your top surgery
where you no longer have to deal with having a chest
but you wake up
no way of getting these things
it haunts you for days.
dysphoria
is the mirror no longer being
a place to just fix up your hair or do your make up
it’s where your demons live
passing by a reflective surface
and seeing even a glance of your body
makes you want to die and tear it apart
dysphoria
is someone brushing against your thigh
and you wanting to puke everything
you have ever eaten
because they touched your body
a disgusting girls body
it can’t be mine
but I hate it none the less
dysphoria
is someone taking out your soul and choking it
the lack of breath comes from a panic attack
your nails clawing and digging into your skin
because this can’t be you. this isn’t mine
this body needs fixing
so does this soul.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC
So it came to pass at last and sad to know a Timber has fallen
It stood in strength tall and strong for over seven decades
Resplendently toned it spread an uncompromising foliage
Masterly in domain magical in reach attaining untold grades
Humble in origins yet grew with endeavour and knowledge
Distinguishably it cut sway in tundra and in lush green glades
Son of sons of the Land held roots countenancing no crawling
It reached for the stars and danced reasons with every shades
Ran with the sun and sat with owls and vipers for tutelage
Sweeping the very highs and the lows in communal trades
In the jungle of sharks and vipers it be known who's in Charge
A Timber has fallen while the rains falls and blue clouds fades
There's now a mighty hole in the earth and rivers are swollen
Leaves scatter and branches beckon hundreds of onward bridges
Leaving best Princess, flowers and saplings for love and largesse
A notable trunk laid supine free to roam without worldly cages
Odes will enter dancing in guises and tears flow without finesse
A Timber has fallen and dirges will ring out for a man of all ages
Yemessia bows and says Adieu My Senior, we will meet again.....
[email protected].
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
if i could measure myself by your terms,
i would become that feeble pile of gray dust
you sweep under your rug,
or blow off of the dashboard of your shiny blue car.
i could be that lonely scuff mark on your shiny white shoes,
new and barely broken in.
new and barely broken in, like that heart
perfectly beating in your perfectly toned chest.
when did it become so easy
to trim my value into useless puzzle pieces
trying tirelessly but aimlessly
to fit into those tiny awkward spaces we create.
i spent the last few years of my life,
attempting to escape comfort, fearful
of it's promise--like loathing the end of the night,
i have run fast into the moonlight,
hid beneath my covers, shaking, screaming
JUST ONE MORE HOUR.
it can not be over.
you can not be leaving me now,
can you?
while i am swelling up with tears,
and need to be felt, so deeply now
beneath your skin? i pick and scratch
at your freckles, but you are cute and made
of wrought-iron dimpled blonde steel,
and i, too weak, too worthless,
too useless, to bend you into
pretty loving shapes.
how can i fear the end now, that is it finally
seemingly eternally here. where do we go
now? how can i rest, abandoned, leaking
words, dripping
thoughts into a bucket that,
at any moment
can
spill.
this is goodbye.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC
I do not see the hype
with High School Stereotype.
Why does it receive such attention?
It doesn't need the press's mention.
We all know of the smokers by the bike sheds,
Who have nothing but fluff in their heads.
Or the girls with skirts far too short
Who's think of *** as a competitive sport.
The sport buffs, we've all seen,
Full of life and far too keen.
Always poised and ready to go,
Every muscle toned from head to toe.
Young student teachers are here,
Enthusiastic about Bill Shakespeare.
Attempting to teach thugs to spell,
Whilst shady Heads make their life hell.
But do not forget, those you call friend.
The ones who stay by you until the end.
Making you laugh, Keeping you sane
Through rough times they remain.
These companions fit no mould
Therefore their tale is never told.
For the greatest things in teen life
Do not need the media's strife
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
I secretly sat at your secluded spot on the lake
I languidly listened and watched the Sunset
writing this while I cease to worry
because I was wrong.
They were wrong when they pigeonholed
you in black and white as one toned ordinary
when you're really vivid shades of hazel
More than meets the eye & captivating
as many shades as in the Sunset
I've been watching from your spot.
Colour me interested because I want to see what hue we'd make mixed together
Yours would compliment and supplement mine
into a vibrant tone
brilliant enough to paint a whole canvas
with the full spectrum of our shades in our union.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
I'm starting to dream in color
swimming in Silvia red night gowns
and dancing into silhouettes of purple and crimson.
psychedelic actually,
if you take the time to think within that perspective.
it's like a toned-down rave set in slow motion by overdose.
and where are you?
are you passed out on the lawn in front of some closed down swapmeet?
did the flicker of insomnia turn you off like a light switch you hadn't paid the bill for?
who now, will answer your phone or pay homage to your quips
or late night phone calls to God?
I wish I could say that I relayed the message
but my nerves never were enough.
I wonder if the angels ever picked up on the twisted games you played on their names.
Many people never bothered to decipher it all.
But on occasion I did.
When the time was convenient,
when the moments were dull.
I delved into it.
I tried anyhow.
Forgive me for never letting you pass.
For standing arms and legs wide apart to halt the inevitable.
I wish for so many seconds
that I was there to do something,
to show something,
some inkling of understanding through sarcastic grimaces.
To you, who will read this and play dead for flair,
may you call upon me from the imaginary casket when you get this.
Fore I do see that you could never leave like that.
Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
I never noticed how someone could come so fast into my life. 2 months. Just 2 months, He came and up & lefted me.
He had a bright smile that could light up any room he stepped in. A gorgeous & toned dark skinned body that protrude against my caramel skin.
He was everything, I had ever asked for in life. He was my life until he left me in a blink of an eye.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Surround me now, LOVE, like linkage
From beauty to the belly-button of the beast.
Umbelli me here my dear, let me feast
My eyes on your whole from the inside out.
Your flesh and bone, tan-toned complexion
Is ******* with my pheromones.
I crave your privacy; forbidden zones
Between ticklish toes and feather pillows
We'll mingle moments and non-moments of
Equal weightless ness.
A shared glass of milkwith your lips lingering
A lazy-fond sofa-based simmering.
A clinging a crumpling of breath accidental
Harmony undressed by a simple - YES
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
Should I long that dark were fair? Say, O song.
Lacks my love aught that I should long?
Dark the night with breath all flow'rs
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the list'ning hours.
Whis'prings, wooings,
Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings,
in low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills.
Dark the night, yet is she bright,
For in her dark she brings the mystic star,
Trembling yet strong as is the voice of love
From some unknown afar.
O radiant dark, O darkly foster'd ray,
Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow day.
4.8k
did not know her when she was miniskirts and high heels,
before she converted to the one true religion of
poetry & yoga
some stray dog thots raveling in a pack
cross the not-even-6am brain that alternates tween
new day Adam apple crumb crisp and
distracting lascivious Eve ones
I,
would have loved you same back then,
no different than now
I,
write in different styles
under so many pseudonyms,
but it is the same man
I,
who crawls into bed nightly with
great expectations and a list of salutations
to wake you up and commence writing how
I,
love your poetic yoga-toned long legs
snaking between mine
while I imagine them in miniskirts and high heels
which is a long way round of saying
You,
alone, my darling forever young one,
are my
one true religion...
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
BANG; another kid, another life
another dark toned baby
taken away for no real
reason
another mother mourns
over her proudest accomplishment
gone
another brother cries when he
passes that street corner
another sister says nothing...
she is desensitized from
last week's loss
BANG; a different kid, a different life
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 8:43 PM UTC
Margaritas and wet feet,
honey toned pleas
giving me reasons to stay
and not leave
but you leave me speechless,
and I put on those sunglasses
so you wouldn't see my
pain/love.
It runs deep.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
Closely I observe myself from afar.
My world transforms into a perplexed dream.
Earth-toned hues shine brighter than any star.
Perception composes a wary theme.
Contorted tree limbs mock every movement.
Eyes become filled with cotton candy clouds.
Conversations are no longer fluent.
Alone I walk in a burial shroud.
I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dead.
Numb is the only sensation I feel.
Broken shards of faith bear a tint of red.
The face in the mirror doesn’t look real.
Existence slowly crumbles into sand.
I’m a stranger who roams this foreign land.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
A llama mama who is ever so special
A swimmer glides through the water with so much grace
Artistically inclines, genius by birth; slacker by choice
Music.Lit.Bio.Lovely girl whom I very much admire
Strong girl who makes use of every opportunity
Another swimmer with heart and face so lovely
An elephant - the light o' every lil' chat
Candy- words so wise; heart so warm
Another brave girl; lots in common; in every way beautiful
Eloquent speaker And A Violinist
Another swimmer with such a laugh!
Our dear walking dictionary; never fails to put a smile on my face
Runner and fighter ALL THE WAY
Vettypoop aka my spirit animal
Smiling dolphin
Laughing cheerful pop ****
Artyfarty girl with so much poise and grace
Artyfarty and a swimmer? Ooh la la
Cute and sweet and everything else with a tinge of the kpop
Disciplinarian and nice
1Der with a twinned soul
A cutie pie with a such a heart
Strange girl this one is but I love the way she talks and writes.
Strange laughter and even stranger words you say
Motherly touches
My lovely leader, with such a beautiful core
Craycray, stay craycray bubu
Smiler and such a high toned shriek
You my bestie; my listening ear
Ordinary Me
Meangirl99 at first sight, lovelygirl99 at the second
KimChi such a hard-worker
Another hard worker with a positive glow
A dancer on a note of sarcasm
Heart of gold; Mind of snow
Naughty naughty
so this is my class of 36
every girl
a wonderful light
and this 36 beautiful souls
make up the beautiful beautiful class
of
203
With varying teachers and varying situations,
we have stood by each other
With much faith I have in all of you
Let's soar to the skies
Pull each other
to soar
and
soar
and soar
to heights never known
never reached.
I know we are going to make
2013
our year
203's year to
amaze people like never before.
Prove every teacher we are the awesomest class on earth.
Trust me.
We will.
Every strength and weakness binded together;
203 is going to
ROCK THE HOUSE TONIGHT! :)
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
Toned, muscular, powerful beasts.
This is the way the world chooses to see.
Outraged, aggression, and dangerous too.
Scared one day, they might bite you.
Not even a second, by the looks, instant fear.
This so called 'reputation' makes us tear.
Continue to breed,
Continue to Buy.
Opt. to put them on a chain so tight.
Opt. to make them fight.
Judging them, at just first sight.
Not bad dogs, just bad owners.
When will the world see the light?
Toned, masculine, powerful features.
Beautiful and intelligent creatures.
Ever so loving, ever so loyal.
So goofy, and eager to please.
Eager to love, Eager for affection.
This is the way the world should see.
A family dog, a protector.
A comedian in ways.
A runway model with natural beauty.
A visitor, for those in pain and lonely.
A caregiver for rehabilitation.
A simple, lasting smile,
A kind that sparks and stays for awhile.
A partner against crime.
A team mate whose there all the time.
A worker, a player to love you at best.
A companion beyond special.
A dog, beyond the rest.
A love, in life, with whatever is next.
A best friend, to say the least.
A Staffies not A beast.
Staffies are the best.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 8:03 AM UTC
Coffee on my breath,
wearing a frown.
Sunshine, my sweater,
my soul turns brown.
Lips slick with chapstick,
chics' licking sack n' ****
drag off a ******* *** n' lean,
obscene in the sense,
the ******* fags' a drag queen.
Rival the bible,
hell to sell any,
whats worse, church
bells smell ugly
under my nose.
I chose the shallow dirt
road to death, even the
tallest tales hail the same frail fate.
Fill my urn to earn my fill,
**** it.
There is no still
frame to capture the moment,
fracture the film and leave it alone.
Yellow toned, below me,
sallow, cornered in color coordinates.
Drenched cover but dry at the core of it;
dazzled by **** dazzled by diction,
you write the dirtiest fiction
and I'm the ******* ***** in it.
Leather bound, cable wound,
leather bound. Black.
Leather.
Sep 18, 2010
Sep 18, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC