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Anton Kooistra Feb 2016
Love the little worm
Just as unbecoming
Look in the mirror.
My words are ugly
My body is ugly
and selfish actions.
Why people
It was the people.
In a parallel universe.
a stray hair,
Ugly wars go on endlessly …
And from that, ugliness was born
Get perished anytime …
Ugly
Simply because they are greedy and
Love the little spider
But it’s often the people
***** looks,
...I told you I was
We really are living
They become even more jumbled than they were before.
A lot of graves are dug for those
My breaths are ugly
But when words go to leave my head
A crooked tooth,
Love the little pig
hateful words
an extra pound?
its thin silken web
I am ugly
My words on a page
small zit,
Mistakes
For you
It was only until now that
A lot of pretty innocent people 
My face is ugly
Are ugly ink blots,
It's my greatest fear
Beautifully Ugly
An ugly war goes on
Why cant I speak beautifully?
My actions are ugly
What's Ugly?
With all its self conscious nature
I wish I could say
Wars' traders don't care
My soul is ugly
Ugly
Offers such beauty
beautiful is ugly.
That make it ugly.
To find me ugly too
Who naturally spins
What's ugly?
When any ugly war breaks out , then
My thoughts are ugly
Will be lost as an ugly outcome …
When I was a kid I
were ugly is beautiful
This world we live in
Who is so happy
Coward at the same time …
Ugly
My mind is ugly
just to play in the mud
Makeup will only go so far to hide an ugly heart.
I understand.
Ugly VS Beautiful
About human lives
And terrible.
Just what I mean
They would call it boring,
It wasn’t the place,
Peace is The pretty alternative to any ugly war …
I am ugly
And ugly
 We live in a world
Would beg to leave this place.
Didn’t understand
Love Ugly
Once, someone was called beautiful
No, I will tell you what's ugly.
As the scars on my wrist.
and
Randomized from poems found under the tag "Ugly". https://soundcloud.com/anton-kooistra/love-the-little-worm
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Pretty ugly


They claim she’s beautiful; I wanna watch her fall,
Because she sold her soul and now I just want her type to go!
Plastic surgery; left her with a ruined nose,
Her heart has decomposed and a---ll I can scream is n---o!!!


She has a striking face;
Shallow beauty is a disgrace.
They say she must be idolized;
No!  She must be improved upon
And replaced!


She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.


Where are the nice ones?
I hate the rich ones!
The golden age of beauty has come and gone
And all that is left, to use, are the blondes!


I hate vanity!  I have vanity;
I hate everything that you have done,
To challenge me with your beauty.


She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly to a loser who looks like me.


She lacks sympathy; I lack mercy!
There is no dignity in selling your body to a magazine page.


These are just my conscious thoughts;
Where are the pretty souls?
There is nothing left inside to hide
And all we have to use are these knowledge bombs of rage.


(Repeat these lines as the song becomes quieter and fades out.)

She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.
She’s pretty ugly, she’s pretty ugly;
She’s pretty ugly,
Yeah she’s s---o,
Very, pretty, ugly.



(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
THE RAT AND THE PREGNANT WOMAN


A story poem

BY

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)



Dedicated to;
My mother Neddy Nabisino Mayende Kuloba Makhakara
And her mother Maritini Nabengele Nasenya Mulemia Namugugu Ilungu wa Wenwa.
The story telling power of these two ladies is the primary source of my passion and love for humorous and peace bettling stories. I owe them all the recognitions.







OPENING SONG
How do I start telling this story that I got from my
Grandmothers when sited around the fire yard in the evening?
I don’t know how to start surely,
For to day I am very shy; all of your eyes
Are on me, looking at me like ocean of looking organs
But let me embolden my self with the belt
Of a story teller that my grand father gave me
And commanded me to preach peace
Through story telling in every place I go
So my spiritual service to humanity is telling stories
Is to soothe and heal wounds of humanity
By softly telling peaceful stories
Let me then cough to clear my voice and start;

Long time ago, but not very long time
Some where between the centuries of twelve hundred
And seventeen hundred after the death of the other Jewish
Story teller who died without a wife, who died on the cross
But others say he died on the stake, his name was Jesus,
There existed only two kingdoms in land which is known today
As Bukusu land found in the present east Africa or Indian Ocean coastal Africa,
The first occupants of this vast land is the sons and daughters of Babukusu
Or the ones who like selling ironsmith products
And hence the name the people of Bukusu; the people who sell,
The two kingdoms were the Kingdom of muntu and the kingdom of manani
The citizens in the kingdom of muntu were short men and short women
Handsome and beautiful, slender and not assertive in their physical disposition
But the citizens of the kingdom of manani were all cyclopic,
In their everything; the manner of walking, talking farting, micturating
Farming, breathing, snoring, smiling, singing, whispering
Their whisper was a noisy as the tropical thunderclap
They were tall men and tall women, very tall
Their young person was as short as the tallest
Person in the kingdom of muntu,
When one of the citizen of manani snores
All the citizens of Muntu along together with,
Their king Walumoli wa Muntu had no option
But remain awake throughout the night,
Because the cacophony of a snore from
The sleeping courts of Manani was not bearable,

On many occasions Walumoli wa Muntu
The conscientious king of the muntu kingdom
Had arranged to talk to Silinki wa Namunguba
The ostensible king of the Manani Kingdom
About the cacophonous sleep robbing
Snores of daughters and sons in neighbour kingdom of Manani
Only to cow and chicken away in a feat of prudence
Lest Silinki wa Namunguba will suspect him for being
A night runner or a thief of *** perhaps
Who roams his compound during the wee of the night
In hunt of any of Namunguba’s wife maybe
Perchance having gone out for a mid-night *******,
This is how legendary snores of the sons and daughters
Of Silinki wa Namunguba the king of Manani
Has remained unchecked for ever till today,

One time an ugly passer by happened to be seen
Traversing the kingdom of muntu
In the early afternoon some two
Hours after Walumoli the king
Had just cleared the last plate
Of the mid day meal from
His last wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
He always eats her food last in the afternoon
Because it comes on the table steaming youthfulness
He loves his Khatembete wife, the wife of his old age
The wife he married by use and show of the royal regalia
The powers and dignity of the king of muntu
He married her when he his a king, the scepter in his hand,

Going back to the ugly passer by
It was never known where he came from
Not from the east where the Indian Ocean is
Not from the west where the vastness of the land
Of black people of Baganda and Bacongo
Baigbo and Bayoruba or Bafulana of Nigeria
Or the sons of Madiokor Ngoni Diop in the Senegal,
Not from the south from shaka the Zulu and Mandella the wise one
Not from north in the land of Dinka and Nuer, Ethiopian Jewish and the Egyptians,
The passerby was ugly and from no where, in a dress and
A very ***** dress that fumed out a malodorously stenching reek
He was a man in attires of a woman; this was a taboo in the land of muntu
He was left handed and a heavy weight stammerer, with an appalling
Protuberation of   a hunched back, an enormous hunchback
Enmassing entired of his masculine shoulders,
When the wind blew his loose dress followed it
Leaving the man’s thighs and then bossom naked,
Leading bystanders to a strange discovery; he was not circumcised
He was old like any other father, he had beards
But not yet circumcised, his ***** ends in corkscrew of a sheath,
This was a taboo in the land of muntu, in the kingdom of muntu
Which Walumoli wa Muntu the son of Mukitang’a Mutukuika ruled
For the spirits, gods and ancestors as well as foremen of the kingdom
Behooved that all male offsprings of the kingdom of muntu
Whether born in marriage or out of the wedlock
Born the blood or born as a ******* must and must be
Circumcised in the early teen hood
They must be circumcised before they grow the hairs
On the face, on the chest, in the scapula and on the areas
Surrounding the testicles, the **** and the endings of the backbone,
The man again had six fingers on the legs and on the hands
He walks slowly like a porcupine, his dress was in tartars
He was violent to every one he met
Insulting old people and old women with words
Of bad manners not used in the kingdom of muntu,
He terrified and beat young children, including the royal children
And grand children of Walumoli the king of muntu
He again had to beat and chase nine young virgins
Who had come from the palace of Walumoli the king of Muntu
Away from the forest when they picking fire wood
As well as playing a game of hide and seek with other palace lads,
The ugly passer by then chased to get hold of the
Nalukosi the first born daughter of
Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikaha Nobwoya
The beloved last wife of the king of Muntu
All other virgins ran home, but Nalukosi remained behind
In the inextricable grip of the ugly passer by
She screamed with hysteria of a hypochondriac
She screamed and kicked with her wholesome mighty
The stubborn passer by never left her alone
She gnawed the ugly passer by with
Her girlish claws of her fingernails
But is like the passer by was mentally disordered
He was a ******* of some time
He derived some pleasure and instead
Enjoyed the girlish scratches of his captive,
Before the eight running virgins reached the palace
Together with their companions, the playmate lads
The shrilling scream of the captive Nalukosi
Was sharply heard at the palace, first by King Walumoli
Who called his wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
To come out of the hut, the kitchen and help to listen,
Immediately Mukisu wa Mujonji the palace keeper surfaced
His face displayed genuine askance of an adept military man
Whose martial arts have rusted for a week without usage
He confirmed to the king that the cry from the forest
Is of the one from this royal home of your majesty the king
And none other than the ****** princes Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The pride of her father, the eye of the palace,
Without hesitation the king permitted the wallabying Mukisu ,
Permission to run in a military dint and find out whatever that
Was eating Nalukosi Mukoyonjo the familial heart of the king,
Mukisu wa Mujonji who was clearly known in the kingdom of muntu,
For his swift running like a desert kite, he already twice chased
And gotten single handedly two male gazelles,
Without aid of a dog nor aid of fellow hunters
And delivered them to the king as a present to the palace
Which he achieved because of the speed of his legs,
On this royal permission he unsheathed his matchette
And went away like any arrow from the bow
His shirt trailing behind him like mare’s tail
Or like the flag on the post on a windy day,
Not a lot of time passed.
Mukisu wa Mujonji is at the spot of struggle,
Between Nalukosi and the Ugly passerby
There was no question or talking,
The first thing was Mukisu to sink the Matchette
With all of his mighty into the tummy of the ugly stranger
The bowels of the ugly stranger opened puffwiiii!
He breathed and gasped twice then succumbed to death.
His grip still strong on the leg of Nalukosi Mukoyonjo
The ugly passer by reached the rigor Mortis
When Nalukosi was still strongly gripped in his
Beastly hand, Mukisu wa Mujonji with all the skills
Used a Sharp matchette again; chopped of the hand
Of the ugly dead passer by off, from its torso
At the point of the muscular elbow,
Now Nalukosi was extricated, but not fully
From the grip of the dead ugly stranger,
The chopped off hand is still knotted at her leg
Around her leg, the dead hand also grips.
Nalukosi jumped here and there to throw away
The leg and the dead hand, but it was not easy to throw
The hand still stubbornly gripped around her angle,
*** time passed, each and every one of the kingdom came
Including the king Walumoli wa Muntu himself
And his nine wives, Khatembete Khobwibo Khakhalikha Nobwoya
Came last, as she was energyless due to rudely shocking tidings
Which the escaping virgins and lads had given her
That the ugly passer by had turned into the ogre
And had swallowed her daughter Nalukosi
That he had swallowed her piecemeal without chewing,
People of muntu came and found the ugly passerby dead
The left had chopped off its torso
But still hanging loosely on the leg of Nalukosi
Nalukosi jumping, kicking, screaming
Screaming away the dead hand from the grip of leg
But nothing had forthcame her way,
Walumoli wa Muntu could not afford to see
The hand on the leg of her beloved daughter
What could he tell his wife, is your all know
Dear reader and audience to this song;
Even the mighty and the wise ones
Generously bend when under the pressure of love,
Out of this dint, even before Mukisu wa Mujonji
Could display his next military card
Walumoli wa Muntu grapped the dead hand
That stuck of the leg of her daughter
And pulled it with another force that
No man born of woman has
Never used since the creation of the earth
By the gods and spirits of Muntu,
The hand come off, he throw it
On the cadaver of the ugly stranger,
He clicked and clicked and hissed
With anger like a wild turkey
In the African thorny forest,
He ordered the dead one to be buried
Their without haste, nor ceremony
Mukisu wa Mujonji buried the body
Quickly in a brief moment with precision
As if he was taking notes
From the lines of the poem
OF Pablo Neruda on how
To bury a dog behind the house
This time burying an ugly stranger
Behind the forts of the kingdom,
After all these women, children and men
Of muntu plus their king Walumoli
Went back to their houses hilariously
Broken into a song and a wild *** dance;
Makoe eehe! Makoe !
Nifwe Talangi Makoe !
Talangi!
Khwaula embogo sitella
Nifwe Talangi!
They sang up to midnight before
They all retired to their beds
Respective beds with panting thoraces
From heavy singing and dancing.

There is connection and disconexion between
The living and the dead, the living fear the dead
And dead loves the living,
The dead want the company of the living
For the living to accompany in the land of the dead,
When the ugly stranger was killed
And buried uncircumcised with the hunch
Not plucked out of his back
The gods and the livings dead
In the realm of the ancestors
Of the kingdom of Muntu were not happy,
They never wanted uncircumcised old man
With a hunch back to join them
And worse enough with the six fingers,
The gods and ancestors really god annoyed
That Walumoli wa Muntu has done them bad
He is only caring for the living, the pre-mortals
Especially his last wife and the daughter
But he has neglected the ancestors,
Why trash to ancestors a stark humanity,
They communed among themselves
And resolved to sent Namaroro
The god of dreams, dreams as messages
From the ancestors and dreams from the gods
Namaroro visited Namunyu Lubunda the palace
Prophet in the Kingdom of Muntu to pass
The message vesseling unhappiness of the ancestors
And gods in a blend of gloomy read to execute
A vendetta;
This is when in the wee of the night that Namunyu Lubunda
Dreamed and had a vision of a old man from
The east is warning of the coming long spell of starvation
That will befall the kingdom of Muntu for ten years
                                      That Namaroro told Namunyu Lubunda
As for ten seasons of foodlessness
Behold a begging kingdom
Behold a starving throne,
The scepter of Muntu is a disgrace
To the holder
Then Namunyu Lubunda set forth by dawn
To the Palace to meet Walumoli wa Muntu
In his, palace before any other royal chores come up,
Both good and bad luck combined
Only to have Namunyu Lubunda to get the king at the palace
He got him fresh and relaxed chewing the cup of fortune
In his full ego, all his wives had submitted to the morning dishes
To his dining hall in the palace, he moved his hands from
One plate of food to the other.
Namunyu Lubunda entered with a submissive salutation
To the royal, He bowed and declared the glory of the king
In typical standards of the ethnic composition of the house of Muntu
Walumoli wa Muntu Mukitang’a Mutukuika
Majave Kutusi Mbirira Omwene esimbo ya
Kumukasa,
Walumoli responded with a feat of dignity to Namunyu Lubunda
The palace prophet, as he roared to him; come in
Come in son of Lubunda son of our people,
He did mention the name of Namunyu Lubunda father
As he fears his words may escape with the power
Of his kingdom the scepter of Muntu
To other insignificant families in the kingdom,
Let me announce what brings me here; intoned Namunyu
Go ahead and announce my holiness
s the prophet of this kingdom; responded Walumoli,
Misfortune is awaiting the kingdom
It will eat this kingdom away
Like a ravenous hyena on the ewe’s tail
The ancestors and the spirits of this land
This kingdom of yours the son of Muntu
Are immensely offended with your recent behaviour
In which you commandeered all villages
In your kingdom; from east and west
The **** the innocent passer by
With your owner hands that handle the scepter
You killed and lay to rest the foreigner
A pure omurende to the kingdom of muntu
You buried him uncircumcised without contrite
In the cemeteries of our foremen who asleep and circumcised
Why did you lower the dignity of our forefathers
Who never share a roof with uncircumcised person
To share the ancestral realm; our emagombe
With hunchback foreigner not circumcised?
This kingdom is condemned to all spell of curse of death
Ceaseless hunger famines and starvation
Women dwindle in their reproductive capacity
Rarely will you come across a pregnant woman
Food will be difficulty to put on the table
Even the sweat of your brow will go to naught,
You will not be buried with insignia
Like a pauper you killed will you be buried
The house of your wife Khatembete Kho Bwibo
Khakhalikha no bwoya is a house of no consequences
For even your daughter Nalukosi stands cursed
She will not mature to be wedded into a marriage
She will hover the earth under heavy agonies of hunger,
My assignment is done and over
With or without your permission let me go.









THE FIRST SONG
Our song continues dear brethren
Come join me in arms we sing
Joyous singing of these songs of peace
Telling the world peaceful stories
As we enjoy sitting together around my grandmothers fire yard
Warming our selves to her lovely fire inherent in her good stories,
These songs will sing the glory and success of the king of Manani
It is an irregular Ode to Silinki wa Namunguba the son of Mwangani,
The son of Tunduli, the son of Wajala Njovu, the son of Welikhe, the son
Of manyorori, the son of Chumbe, the son of Kajo, the Son of Mabati, the son of welotia,
The son of sikele sia mulia, the son of Toywa,the son of siruju, the son of Mango, the son of Mulwoni sinyanya Bakhasi, the son of Mbakara , the son of Makhakara wa Nambuya, the son of Mukoye mulala kukhalikha w0nga, the son of Zumba the son of God.
Silinki
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
My wife is ugly,
She’s so ugly,
My wife is ugly,
But she’s my honey bee!

Every time I settle down,
She goes down town.
She strikes a pose,
And barks out orders,
Sets a light to troubled waters,
She’s my honey;
My sweet valentine!

When the boats a rockin’,
Don’t you come a knocking!
Don’t you come a rapping at my door!
For we’ll be body poppin’,
And just like Mary Poppins;
You’ll hear my honey,
Crying out for more!

Rough, tough and ugly;
She’s my honey bee!

My wife is ugly,
She’s so ugly,
My wife is ugly~
She’s got hairs between her toes!

My wife is ugly,
She’s so ugly,
My wife is ugly~
~She’s got teeth where her eyes should be!

My wife is ugly,
She’s so ugly,
My wife is ugly~
~She’s got things swingin’ between her knees!

My wife is ugly,
She’s so ugly,
My wife is ugly~
But she will always be my sweet honey bee!


Song link below
https://youtu.be/WlpqVSOVwTA
I was watching Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends
and there was an episode on prostitution and so I wrote this!
Mark Jan 15
Although, I never thought of those who shed a little tear  
Flowing like a stream, then await for some comfort, they preserver  
Need a word of advice, but can't find anyone so sincere  
Want to change your life, then embrace the people so dear  
  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Heart of an impostor, you’re acting as bad, as a B grade movie star  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Body held together by mortar, you're falling apart, like a shooting star  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Face made of stone, no expressions like Mona Lisa, that famous painted star
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Tongue coated in snake oil, you're faking it, just like a **** star  
Hear me tell you, what you really are  
Here, listen to the truth  
Isn't it ugly, ugly, ugly?  
  
Need a word of advice, but can't find anyone so sincere  
Want to change your life, then embrace the people so dear  
  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Heart of an impostor, you’re acting as bad, as a B grade movie star  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Body held together by mortar, you're falling apart, like a shooting star  
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Face made of stone, no expressions like Mona Lisa, that famous painted star
Isn't it ugly, to be who you are?  
Tongue coated in snake oil, you're faking it, just like a **** star  
Hear me tell you, what you really are  
Here, listen to the truth  
Isn't it ugly, ugly, ugly?
Having a good old hard look at yourself.
Silence Aug 2015
I am ugly.
Maybe not in the way the human race perceives the word, but in the way I perceive the word.
I am ugly,
whether that is in the way I smile, look, dress or the way I see the world.
Maybe,
life isn’t about seeing the yourself as beautiful; maybe it’s about seeing yourself
as ugly,
as dull,
as plain,
as unappealing as it is and still, above all of that,
loving everything ugly, dull, plain and unappealing.
I don’t mind being ugly,
because ugly is what I want to be.
You hear someone say the word ugly and you think negatively. Ugly, in my mind, is even better than beautiful.
Everything has beauty, but only real things have flaws.
Being ugly is not about being unappealing to the eye,
but being appealing to the heart.
I embrace the fact that I am and always will be ugly.
I like it that way.
I am full of flaws.
I have crawled my way out of hell and got a little banged up along the way,
whether that is what someone means by the word ugly I am okay with that.
I am banged up.
I am flawed.
I am imperfect, defective, faulty, distorted, inaccurate, incorrect, erroneous, imprecise, fallacious and most of all ugly.
The most shocking part of all of this is that,
you are too.
Ember Evanescent Nov 2014
To you ugly means unpopular
To you ugly means make-upless
To you ugly means not into the same stuff you like
To you ugly means different
Well to me ugly
Means being popular and only caring about that
And flaunting it
And shoving it in the faces of those who are unloved
Stepping on people to get yourself to the top
To me ugly means wearing makeup on your soul
Covering up your true identity with metaphorical makeup so much thicker than the foundation and concealer and eye shadow I don’t wear
To me ugly means liking things ONLY because everyone else does
To me ugly means being a monotonous replica of everyone else, just another plastic Barbie doll with zero values and zero love in your heart, not being YOU
To me ugly, is telling someone else they are ugly.


REPOST if you have a DIFFERENT DEFINITION OF UGLY
Joe Milton Dec 2012
In a land where only rich folk have chins; lived  a man. Ugly and Dim. He was as bright as a flashlight in the afternoon hours. A terrible thing, having thoughts devoured. A drought crossed the land where Ideas once grew now lies a place for neither me nor you. We heard of boy. Quiet wealthy, quiet rich, but deep down a real sonofabitch, who rode ‘gainst the grain and then disappeared. Never to be heard of again.  What a shame to lose the lose the mind of young Ugly and Dim.

I heard a tall tale, or call it a fable; for the lessons quite clear.
It’s a lesson about Ugly and Dim, two brothers in fact who had such an act at the travelling magical show. Dim had the knowledge and Ugly had the looks.
They’d learned their tricks from the book called Don’t Pay Your Dues, and they wound up  all burnt .Except their shoes. Which stood centre stage, where would-be magicians light up in flames, a blaze of ashes.
Such gasps from the crowd as Ugly and Dim began to singe,
and turn crisp and begin to burn, that’s how they fried.
Some soul cried
“I can’t tell if they’re dead or alive!”
As the skin slipped over the skeletal bones
Ugly and Dim were exposed.
Liars and tricksters of illusion will meet an ill-fated conclusion.
Ugly and Dim will see you again, in your moments of moral confusion.

Ugly and Dim; the architects of such modern wonders of
“How things are today!” and “How they oughta be!”
Over 1 million copies of “It’s a you or me mentality!” sold!
Ugly and Dim are ever so bold for the romance  novel: “How Love Gets Old”
Ugly and Dim are you and him,
or her and I, and us  and them.
Sometimes I cry. I’m ugly.
Sometimes I don’t know answers, I’m dim
Sometimes I wake up and I make it through another day.
Jester Feb 2018
Ugly is beautiful, ugly is under the pretty skin and colors we wear.

When one thinks of art and the beauty of words it must always sound nice, it must follow and follow traditional laws of language;
**** that.

Art is an expression of self and soul is it not?
Humans don’t all have beauty in them, humans don’t always have some wonderful soul or righteous heart, so why should all art show the beauty of life?

Why not mock the beauty? Why not admit that sometimes we’re ugly, sometimes we’re crass, cold and vile?
Are we not all we are? Do our life experiences not shape and make us?

Life is not perfect and we all have pitfalls, everyone is flawed yet when it comes to art we deny the fact and mask it by saying “art reflects the tragedy” or “I use art to express my pain” and in that way, we make it romantic, but what if, we just showed it as it is.
What if we just said exactly what we’re feeling, what we’re thinking, what we want?

Must we use the beauty of words and paint and rock to hide our shame, or fear, to mask our greed and lust?
Sometimes people aren’t pretty, sometimes they have no soul, so what if some art was ugly?

What if I didn’t use proper words or language
Or started to; break up words by what-ever means I saw fit for the piece?

It would confuse, it would anger, it would look bad.
But that would be closer to human than always trying to turn some act of woe into some poetic moment.
For a moment reject the beauty, reject the urge to be clever or pristine, smear some mud across the page, ugly can be beautiful in itself because ugly is just that.

You are not the best, you are not the best looking, the fastest, the strongest, smartest, you do not know everything- so it would make sense that art at times should be flawed, that art should be ugly and broken, that art should offend you at times.
There is a humbleness to be found in ugly art, in art that is raw and exposed.
Once you take away the fluff that people are attracted to, once you strip her down and expose what she is, you may find that while some art is a flawless figure in her **** skin- other art may be torn, ripped and festering with disease but she’s not hiding anything in that moment- and on top of that. She doesn’t care.
Why should every poem sound nice?
Why should art have rules and laws?

Of course, we must have laws and standards, of course we must have laws and rules HOWEVER in times and for somethings- breaking that mold, stepping outside of the box, that is needed.
I say ugly art hides nothing and shows everything, pure surface value with no hidden meaning or deeper philosophy, which won’t do for some people.

Some people will rip art apart to understand its meaning refusing to believe in face value because they can’t understand the face value of ugly, they have to have something pretty, they have to have something clever or witty or something they can cling to as being elite as if that somehow places them above the social stature at which they reside.

Trust in ugly art, trust in unpoetic words, trust in blemished statues, trust in unpolished raw music, trust in ugly from time to time.
From the upcoming book IV
sabella Jul 2013
Sorry not a poem more of a sort story .


Do you know what it's like to be ugly never to feel beautiful. To be the ugly one. To be caste aside pushed down and beaten. Just because they say your not beautiful. Your the ugly one. Do you know the pain of being thrown away with the trash and how much the loneliness consumes you. Dragging you to the darkness. Those names that tear  you to pieces.
The your ugly how can you show your face.
The your a no buddy why are you here.
The you are the most disgusting thing i have ever seen.
The I can't believe your parents keep you after they seen your face.
The you should just **** your self  just die no one would even notice that you did.
The laughing the whispering over and over again.
You never belonging any where.  Never having a friend just someone to talk to. Someone that believed in you . Someone that didn't think you'r ugly.  Someone that would save you. But no.
Your just always wishing that someone would save you. Praying please just this time please god help me make them stop please just this once please save me. I can't do this any more all this pain and emptiness why can't i be saved why can't i be loved . As you lay there on the grown bleeding beaten crying screaming for your life no one comes.
You ask your self as you lay there not able to move in so much pain.
WHY    WHY what did you ever do to deserve this for all these years all this pain WHY
Why have I been left alone in the darkness.
Why just because i'm not beautiful in there eyes.
Please tell me why i was born this way why is the world this way.
Alone ugly beaten as my soul begins to go black being pulled into the darkness.
Why can't i be saved.
No never for you always   always alone and ugly.
There hate. There words filling your body with nothingness and hear them over and over again never ending in you mind they just play over and over cutting into your soul take the very life out of you.
Pushing you deeper and deeper onto the edge pushing tell there is no where for you to go.
This.   This is the last time never will they beat you never will they make you bleed. Never will they make you feel pain.
So you clime and clime tell you reach the top of the water tower.
Finley you can be free.
Finely there will be no more pain.
Finley for the first time in years you can smile   looking up at the stars free.
I take that last steep falling to the grown as i look up at the stars. I smile spreading my arms out like i'm flying finely at piece. I feel i saved my self,      am I saved? Then it flashes no one well care no one well cry. You will never be missed. Now even before death your alone always and for ever alone.

There went that happy feeling. The feeling of being free of being saved gone just like that.
Some how it seems she had been falling for some time now in slow motion.
Now no more smiles just tears that run down her face.
Why this!   She can't even die happy and free from the pain. Why can't this  girl just be happy and believe just this once she is beautiful and free away from the pain just this time. How can they even take that from her.   Why?

Then smack something hits her arm and her body goes slamming into the wall.
With her tears streaming down her face she looks up and sees a bluer of a dark broad body hanging off the latter holding on to her so tightly.
The other one they called ugly. As she wipes her eyes with her other hand to dry the tears. She looks up at him she never looked at him before always looking at the ground afraid to look up but here and now she did. She doesn't  understand the man she sees is anything but ugly with the moon that lightens up his face and the wind gently blowing his hair he smile at her. She gasped and her face turns red. She sees just  How his smile makes her heart skip  how gently but strongly he is as he holds onto her. He speaks so softly to her this must be what they call fate were are here to save each other I was here to be free too, but us here at the same time. I know something brought us together. As i watched you falling you looked like an angel Spirit that lost her wings and i had to save you.  Because you are here to save me from my broken wings too. So forgive me i could not let you fall. Our soul spirits weaved flying together in the air.
  So what do you say. Should we let they fly together?  He said to her.   Her body trembling tears began to flow down her face  but with a smile that would light up the darkest part of hell.  
    He smiles back at her  and says i'll take that as yes. He pulls her into him and wraps  him arms around her holding her ever so tightly as she cry's. Just holding her he spoke so softly again to her I'll stay with you tell the end of time I well love you tell the end of my life. You well never be alone again.
Finely she was loved.
Finely never alone again.
Finely she was saved.
But no it was just the flash in her mind before she hit the grown.
There is NO LOVE NO HOPE NO GOD NO ONE GIVES A ****
Kiana Lynn May 2015
It’s not the type of ugly, like the bruise on your arm.
It’s the type of ugly is meant to disarm.
It’s brutal, and gut wrenching, and it hurts.
It makes you feel as though you’re constantly trying to avert.
It’ll make you feel numb,
until you’re don’t even recognize who you’ve become.
Once you’ve experienced this ugly, it takes over your life,
reminding you constantly of your strife.
Your failures seem to look you in the face,
with every step forward you seem to take.
It’s got you questioning if you’re taking two steps forward, or back,
it’s got your calm, unaffected, beautiful façade about to crack.
Once you’ve experienced this type of ugly, it’s hard to believe you deserve the beauty
and you start to come off as snooty.
Once you’ve experienced this type of ugly, you’ll think there’s no going back,
that the past will never just be in the past,
but in your future too
stealing your happiness, ruining the true you.
Once you’ve experienced it, everything takes a backseat
even when you want something so bad you can hardly speak.
Once you’ve experienced it, and let yourself suffer,
you have to decide if a second time around is worth it, knowing it’ll be tougher.
You have to see that somehow, when you accept it,
the good times make the bad memories fleeting, even though it’s hard to admit.
This type of ugly will ruin you, but only if you continue to let it.
So fight, because if you’ve experienced this ugly, you’ve already taken the worst hit.
Let yourself believe,
there’s more than just an ugly side, don’t continue to misconceive.
When push comes to shove,
you have to fight to see past the ugly side of love.
Adam L Alexander Jun 2010
The ugly kitten didn’t know -
He purrs.

The ugly kitten cannot see -
He sleeps.

The ugly kitten poor as can be-
He eats.

The ugly kitten all alone-
He dances.

---------------------------------------------

The ugly kitten smells a new smell -
He knows.

The ugly kitten sees her in his dreams-
He wakes.

The ugly kitten schemes and schemes-
He fasts.

The ugly kitten all alone-
He cries.
Mike Hauser Nov 2014
From the very moment that all of this started
The skies opened up the Red sea it parted
God took a rib from out of the man
And that is when all of the fun began

God don't make ugly girls
From beauty without to beauty within
God don't make ugly girls
And it's been that way from the beginning

He certainly had it right with Cleopatra
A beauty Queen, Royalty flattered
As men were fighting to win over her love
God in His wisdom from up above

Knows that he don't make ugly girls
From beauty within to beauty without
God don't make ugly girls
With that there is never a doubt

Mother Teresa in all of her glory
Did what was asked of the Father in her selfless story
Shinning a light for all to see
Giving her all for downtrodden humanity

Cause God don't make ugly girls
Never even tried it out cause he doesn't know how
God don't make ugly girls
From their beauty within to their beauty without

Showing throughout history
The beauty of woman is here to please
Truly a beauty to behold
From the glamour of young to the wrinkle of old

God don't make ugly girls
The beauty within you can't do without
God don't make ugly girls
And that my friend is what I'm talking about
summer Jun 2016
Fat
Ugly
Worthless
Nothing

Fat
Ugly
Worthless
Nothing

My clothes don't fit
FAT

My reflection in the mirror
UGLY

All the people i have hurt
WORTHLESS

Every night spent crying myself to sleep
NOTHING

FAT
UGLY
WORTHLESS
NOTHING

How do i stop these thoughts?

That are forever on a repeated loop.

I want it stop.

Please make it STOP!

FAT
not again

UGLY
please!

WORTHLESS
i know

NOTHING
i get it

FAT
i will never be skinny

UGLY
i will never be pretty

WORTHLES
i will never be enough

NOTHING
i will always be a nothing

FAT
UGLY
WORTHLESS
NOTHING

again

and

again

and



ag­ain...





i just want it to stop..

i have had enough..





so


close



to



giving


up





FAT!
i am fat



UGLY
i am ugly



WORTHLESS
i am worthless



NOTHING
i am nothing.
Drowning In Ugly
2016-06-15

I cannot let the ugly win,
Wipe the smile from this old chin,
When I drown in ugly’s frown,
My world is just plain upside down.
So much beauty there to see,
Nature, art, poetry,
Stars, moon, astronomy,
A bedtime prayer on tiny knees,
A stranger’s bless you when I sneeze.
Relics from an artist past,
Pyramids, lovely vase, wide Mountain path,
Days of life with loving wife,
Fruitful work beating strife.
So many blessings for you or me,
Fish that swim in open seas.
Cloudy sky, birds that fly,
Ice cream and apple pie,
A nurse’s care when I die.
Nature, flowers, birds and bees,
Fall colors in every tree.
Faith in friends, a warming bath,
A mother’s love, a cooing dove.
So many clips of ugly news,
People lost, children bruised,
Fills my heart with aching pain,
Need to find beauty again.


B. T. Whittaker

Wrote this because nothing but horror seems to flood the news, coming up from the U.S. Some days I lose faith and cry for balance. Terror in neon right on the doorsteps. Repeated over and over on Canadian politics for bad decisions, bigotry, and hate.
Drowning in Ugly.
I couldn't resist reposting this. Not sure things are better for sure
Mahalea Isis May 2014
Fighting back tears, it pains me to hear
The word that always lingers throughout my thoughts
The word that makes me cringe in sadness
The reason I don't wear dresses that are strapless
The reason I could never be an actress

My confidence is lacking, the word is attacking and hijacking
My mental and suddenly I'm adapting
To the rage burning in my heart like everlasting matches
It burns me to say it, but I say it all the time
To remind myself of why I will always have to lie
Cause when people ask me questions, I always say I'm fine
Even though I want to lie in the puddle where I cried
And drown myself slowly, but not necessarily die
Just come back alive, more beautiful this time

Pressured by society and everybody by me
That being pretty is the goal cause in the real world no one will lie to me
Nowadays a girls dream is to be able to drop jaws
Be admired and complimented and leave people staring in awe
Be stunning, not even perfect, but have minimal flaws
Why do insults flow easily and no one thinks it's wrong?

Ugly
The word unflattering itself
And us as insecure, are disgusted with ourselves
And sometimes we break down in the mirror yelling for help
Cause who is truly happy when they wish to be someone else?

Ugly
Scars lacing our bodies
Speaking loud enough when our thoughts get a bit foggy
People stare at these memories and tell us we're crazy
It decorates the pain like a poisonous pastry

Ugly
Why is it that we constantly hear
This word that some might consider their biggest fear
It's embarrassing, degrading, it weakens us deeply
I wear all black and walk through the hallways discreetly
I want no one to notice who I am anymore
I have locked my true self behind bars and steel doors
Cause I have a secret wish that one day maybe I could be adored
But my reflection isn't the reason that I am so destroyed

It's ugly
That word has broken me down
That I cry anytime there isn't anyone around
And it's amazing to see how many people are self conscious
Over this word which in itself is monstrous and obnoxious
Nowadays I wonder if anyone has a conscience
Cause if they did, why would they continuously spread all this nonsense?
You can't brush it off like its stupid and it isn't constant
And like it doesn't turn people from confident to rotten

Ugly
One day hopefully, I'll break out of this mindset
Cause it's kept me from doing things which I now seem to regret
It's kept me from happiness and the feeling of tranquility
And dragged me to the hell where lies depression and hostility
And now I long for a day where it will all happen so suddenly
I will look at my reflection and will say

"I'm not ugly."
Wrote this a couple weeks ago and sadly I'm still struggling with my insecure and confidence issues, as I have been for years. It's difficult always being self conscious but I don't know how to change. It's a constant battle within in myself. But oh well.
Madeline Thetard May 2018
ugly words forced them to places
deep underground
underneath the sunlight and the jewelry
underneath the heavy footsteps that kept on walking
that could crush
their fingers as they reached out for help

ugly words shattered their mirrors
they were told only a monster would
be reflected and
they believed it
why was everyone so cruel if
nothing more than a demon was inside?
their stained glass bottles
half-filled with dreams
were broken at the necks
good aim and slingshots
armed with smooth stones
made the best weapons
they were unsuspecting and childish
but their intentions were absolutely wicked

ugly words built up their castles of fear
far beneath the earthly surface
thrones of broken bones and hearts
and subjects of their own scars
no light could enter or escape
it was a vacuum of lost hope
if they hid from oppressors
maybe it never really happened
maybe torture wouldn’t come back
to haunt
ugly words turned their beauty
into searching eyes
and eternal suspicions
a guessing game of
who will hurt me
who will try
who will break my bones or mind
or otherwise
ugly words built a fortress
far beneath the wind and snow
a place where it was safe and warm
there was no beauty
but no hate
there was no radiance
but no fire
there was no goodness
but no ugliness
they felt nothing at all

so when the palace began to shake
and broken minds began to think
the towers crumbled
into mounds of ash
and they wondered if ashes
would be better than humans
it was a universe parallel
to the one above

the one with cold and warmth
dark and light
two sides to everything
this was a universe of fear
convoluted labyrinths
they walked for hours getting nowhere
but right back to the places they left
they fought in their minds
fought the anger and the hurt
fought the enemies with callused palms
until the war was too much in the brain
mental heaviness took a physical toll
and they fell to the ground, breathing hard

ugly words began to melt
in the earth upstairs
with spring came a blossoming
of new beginnings and happiness
for a while hate was a thing of the past
but underneath
the shadows still lurked with fear
a lingering smell of suspicion
the long stretch of hours left waiting
for something, anything
with joy must come pain
but they were afraid of both
afraid that to laugh once more
would break their frail bodies
to cry would be remnants of another life
to sing and dance would
shoot them down
they were glass skeletons
not scary but broken and old
mementoes of an ugly time
moving on would be a surrender
to moments in the past


ugly words created an earth
where a whole was split in two
above the ground
life kept moving on
but underneath
underneath was a battlefield of
old bruises that time cannot heal
broken bottles littering the ground
they might have thought it looked
pretty like snow
if they had not known what
shattered hopes they held
ugly words gently passed with the breeze
but to those of the underneath
they never left
those words nested in their souls
sang a haunting lullaby
a tar-and-feather trap stuck on repeat
in their minds
the words floated and bobbed
in their eyes
closing them only added to the infinite darkness

ugly words became engraved
on their headstones
natural erosion could not wipe them away
deep in their graves
dug far beneath the ground
ugly words cut scars
and painted sorrow on their ashen faces
those words never did leave
Madness Viarti Mar 2015
Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Unwanted, and unloved,

With matted fur,
Wide eyes of stone,
Once, you were beloved,

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Your nose is runny and red,

Your paws are too small,
Your tail is patchy and wet,
You're too thin, but perhaps with a bit of bread..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
You tried to follow me home,

My home is too small,
Money is tight and hard earned,
My heart is unwell, but I cannot simply let you roam..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
You didn't care,

I was the curious thing,
The one to stop,
And scratch behind your ears, your life has never been fair..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
Your walk is much too slow,

Fumbling one way or the other,
Tripping over your paws,
Getting distracted by the spiders, but soon, you'll grow..

Black Kitten,
Ugly Kitten,
I stopped,

And carried you home.
Enigmatic Puppet Dec 2017
I’ve been feeling really
Ugly as of late
So filthy, so unrefined, so
Ugly
I want to be beautiful!

Someone told me
If you really want to be beautiful
You gotta look hot man
You gotta feel hot man
He tossed me his magic potion
And I ingested those magical embers
That made me hot again

But even though I’m hot
I’m still so ugly
So *****, so revolting, so
Ugly
I want to be beautiful!

Someone told me
If you really want to be beautiful
Go talk to the clouds yo
They all fluffy and cute yo
He tossed me his magical stick
With it I soared to the skies
And learned the secret to being all cutesy
But even though I’m adorable
I’m still so ugly
So soiled, so disgusting, so
Ugly
I want to be beautiful!

Someone told me
If you really want to be beautiful
Put on some makeup bro
Cover your skin all up bro
He tossed me his magical pen
And I drew pretty flowers
Pretty flowers of maroon which suffocated my skin

But even though I’m so hot and cute and all made up
I’m still so ******* ugly
So ugly, so ugly, so ugly
So ugly
I want to be beautiful.

Then you told me
If you really want to be beautiful
You have to be completely still
You have to be completely silent
No one likes a monster that moves
But if you don’t move and don’t speak
You’ll be beautiful

Alas with the secret to being beautiful at hand
I popped my fireworks to celebrate
Beautiful shades of red filled the sky
As at last, finally
I shall be beautiful again.
Delirious ramblings. A bit of an experiment.
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a *** machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.
Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Sure, why not?"
I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
looks..."
"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
pretty?"
"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."
Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, *******, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,
"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"
"In the morning," I said and turned my back.
In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
laughed.
"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."
"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."
"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."
Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.
"Come on, lover man."
I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.
I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.
"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."
She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.
"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"
"I knew."
Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.
"These sons of *******," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."
"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."
"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."
"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, *******, I see you've come back."
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.
"******* you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"
"No, it's the fad, you fool."
"You're crazy."
"I've missed you," she said.
"Is there anybody else?"
"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."
"Pull those pins out."
"No, it's the fad."
"It's making me very unhappy."
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I'm sure."
Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.
"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
it?"
"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."
"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."
"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
face."
"Thanks."
We had another drink.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."
"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."
"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
wearing."
"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."
We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.
"******* you, woman," I said from the bed, "******* you, what have you
done?
"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
beautiful?"
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
funny."
"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, *****, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."
We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,
"Up, *******! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
feast!"
I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than *******. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"
"No."
"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."
"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?
"Her sisters buried her."
"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"
"She cut her throat."
"I see. Give me another drink."
I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "******* YOU, YOU *******
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.
Fish The Pig Oct 2014
I'm an ugly person
for the way that I think.
The things I say under my breath.
Wrapped in grubby chains of envy
at all who walk past.
and I do mean all.
I'm angry because I'm not as good
as everyone else,
not as pretty.
I'm angry because beauty is granted to everyone
and those with disabilities.
I often think this girl is pretty,
but the only reason she has a modeling contract
and has this fame
is because she lost an arm
was bullied
showed her insulin pump in her photo
has a disease
or is deformed.
girls who look worse than me
praised like Gods for their beauty
because they have something wrong with them.
I'm jealous of that.
I fantasize often about my grand sad story,
jumping in front of a bullet, attacked,
cancer, loss of limb etc etc
I want their awful story
just so people will like me
and think I'm pretty.

It's disgusting.
Their life is hard
and they are brave
but I think it's unfair
and I'm still jealous.
They get praise and treated like royalty
because they're sick.
beautiful and sick is beautiful.
ugly and sick is beautiful.
beautiful and normal is beautiful.
ugly and normal is nothing.
ugly is ugly.
and even as I recognize my disgusting thoughts,
they're still there.
brooding and boiling
in a *** of green slimy jealousy,
jealous because they're lucky
and blessed and fortunate.
I'm ugly because I'm jealous.
Aa Harvey May 2018
Something beautiful, something ugly


Something beautiful trapped inside a black hole;
The monster is feeding and swallowing hope.
It’s swallowing souls as its fingers hold,
Us down by our throats and it will never let go.


Something beautiful, something ugly;
Someone to love, when fear has a grip on me.
Let it go and rise once more!
Kick down the exit door and once more feel the warmth.


Been cold so long, I have forgotten the heat,
As strangers meet;
They soon disappear and become a friend or a lover.


After walking alone down barren streets,
With no knowledge of what it is we should seek;
Until we find a love we have always needed to discover.


Something beautiful hidden beneath;
Something ugly, plain for all to see.
Give them all a remedy and allow them to see beauty.
Misery is surely ugly;
Bitterness seeks the incomplete.


Wondering how to become complete;
Lacking good will, detesting humanity.
Something beautiful, something ugly;
We are human.  Words are used without dignity.


Something beautiful, something ugly;
We are all humane and we are at war with ourselves.
Destroy the fiend you call your friend;
Because when the time comes, they will offer you no help.


Something ugly, something beautiful;
The pain has been removed, so you can fly high now people.
Age is a thief; this night is not your friend.
We are condemned to lose our beauty and become ugly in the end.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ember Evanescent Nov 2014
The problem is
If I still starved and cut
People would care
Because I would be destroying my outer-self
They don't care that you are anorexic and depressed
As long as you don't bring physical harm to your body
The pain inside never matters because they can't see it
Well I hate my face
I hate everything about my body
My ugly arms and legs
Scarred, dry, cracked, ******
Ugly ugly ugly
Face too square
Unfeminine jawline
Eyebrows too thick
Nose too wide
Hair too bland
Eyes the color of dried blood
And ugly ugly brown
There is nothing I can do though that hurts me
When I try to fix it
The worst thing I could do
Would be to put on too much make up
They can't see how much I hate my f*cking ugly self
But I can't hurt myself
So it doesn't matter
Who cares
Ugly can't be diagnosed
So clearly I am not ill in the mind
I am just ugly
Only no one pays attention
To that
Because they can't see that pain
The way they could when I could count all my ribs
And I slashed my wrists
They can't see it
And I can't either
But I can FEEL IT
Even if it doesn't hurt on the outside
It hurts on the inside
Anorexia and Depression can **** you so everybody cares.
Feeling ugly and loathing yourself can't hurt or **** you.
So who cares?
Well, I do.
PAIN IS WORSE THAN DEATH.
Kado MacMurphy Feb 2017
i am so ugly, why am i ugly
i am not happening, what is happening,
still so ugly, i am trash
so minnesota, i am abstract
forget my alibi, i am so ugly
**** what im worth, i have these maggots
inside me living, morbidly filthy
deserve to live me, i am so filthy
no one has done me,
no one i am
i have these maggots, here to preserve me
i am not me, i am these maggots,
they represent me, deserve to live in me,
i am so filthy, plz just **** me
forget the feeling, i have no feeling
simple being, i am so ugly,
i feel so ugly, feeling like stealing,
i am stealing, breathless feeling
senseless beating, set fire to me
i am so ugly, so ******* filthy.
You're ugly
So ugly to me,
You'll always be
The ugliest I've ever seen,
But before you
Slap me hate me
And walk away
For saying so,
Do you realize
That ugly is just a word
And I haven't let go
Holding you close,
Because no matter how ugly
You think you are,
I love you so,
I want to ravage you
Every minute
Caress every inch of you,
And I'll never ever walk away
Proudly stand next to you,
Because beauty is everything,
And the beholder knows
Ugly is an idea
Like f@ck is a 'bad' word,
And I just f@ckin' love you
Just the ugly way you are...

APAD13 - 26 © okpoet
The Darkness Jun 2012
Its about to get ugly up in here.

I'm talking
Worlds ugliest
Thalidomide baby
contest winner
Ugly.

I'm talking
Michael Jacksons
rotten *** corpse
falling apart
in the coffin
Ugly.

I'm talking
pasty ***
fat and sweaty
old white dude
in a Cambodian brothel
****** little girls
until he runs out of money
Ugly.

Its going to get ugly...

Standby.
ami snacks Oct 2012
i wish you were ugly

if every single time i thought of u and saw a beast

would you really mean the same to me?



if i saw you for what you truly are on the inside

would i still have let u pry

through my skin and shred my heart

and let the thoughts of u

ridethrough my vains

almost as if you were truly in me



how could u posses me with something so invisible only air could see it

why couldn't i see it

its strange how we know the things that can hurt us

but when there right in front of our eyes we become blind

and even though at that moment our ears become the strongest

we still cant believe it



see now its one thing to love

and its something completely different when u try to be it

maybe it wasn't you

maybe i loved you so hard i hurt myself

well guess thats only cuz i was working on that project

and u chose not to help



i wish u were ugly

then maybe the moments i held the closest to me

wouldn't have been

those tears i shed

and u put me in your arms and promised me things ive never heard before

is that why the sounded so lovely?



or how bout when u started calling me jelly bean?

you know the nick name that my mom used to call me?

AND YOU KNEW HOW MUCH SHE MENT TO ME!!!!!



or how bout when u were going through it

and i stayed there by your side just because it made me feel better

but u pushed me away

didn't appreciate me

i should of known better



or the times when we laughed and joked

about who got who in trouble this time

and i should of known u were trouble the last time



or the wlks in the park that we shared

just talking abut the things most precious in life

the whole days ...weekends....OR HOW BOUT YEARS

we spent together?



or maybe your lips

i never liked to kiss

but kissing you each time made me feel like a princess

and no matter how hard i tried

i couldn't get a crown from you

u told my u loved me

i didn't see it as a  hard thing to do



but i do give you this you were always there when the lights shut off

maybe if i was a cat i could of seen u were ugly

but instead i choose 2 feel

who knew all the passion and pleasure turn into

pain and tears

and fears

that ill ever see u again



maybe if you were ugly i wouldn't have had those presious moments that felt like forever

and ended so quickly



but then again how could you see that ur ugly

when i was the one who tried 2 show you that you were beautiful?



wish u were always ugly
Lauren J Dec 2014
What's ugly?
A crooked tooth,
a stray hair,
small zit,
an extra pound?
No, I will tell you what's ugly.
***** looks,
hateful words
and selfish actions.
Look in the mirror.
Makeup will only go so far to hide an ugly heart.
Mohammad Skati May 2015
When any ugly war breaks out , then                                                                    A lot of pretty innocent people                                                                                Will be lost as an ugly outcome ...                                                                         Wars' traders don't care                                                                                           About human lives                                                                                                  Simply because they are greedy and                                                                     Coward at the same time ...                                                                                     A lot of graves are dug for those                                                                             Get perished anytime ...                                                                                             Peace is The pretty alternative to any ugly war ...                                                          Ugly wars go on endlessly ...                                                                               _____________________
Klvshp0et Oct 2015
If God don't like ugly
God don't like me.
Which is why
I'm so unlucky.
It's like my money
telling jokes in my pocket
because it knows it's funny.
I live in Texas but
My days are never sunny.
They are much rather gloomy
and the darkness consumes me
until I get a bit wreck less.
Faded
till I'm speechless.
Smoking
till I'm breathless.
Til my mind isn't restless.
Sippin the devils elixir
made me far from quicker
but I feel deathless
because I'm high
off of **** and antidepressants.
God don't like ugly
and the people
walk about corruptly
in this world of vanity.
That grips the sanity
til it produces
a lack of empathy
for its fellow man.
This world of vanity
has me trapped
In my own reality
because I'm not
appealing to the eye
and my words
not appealing to the soul.
Still dress to impress
to catch a lost ******* soul
lackin control
to ride this ****
like a slippery *****.
God don't like ugly.

If God don't like ugly
God don't like me.
Like a ******* child
that's he's forgot about.
Made in his image
but far more warped.
Who realized his potential
and leaped from the porch.
Into a sea of fakes
trying to achieve an image
sharp as a sword.
Just as mighty as the lord
but they always come up short
because they are mortals
between the portals
of heaven and hell.
So the paranormals ******
the brains of the godawful children.
Until everything is up for sale
including their soul.
To feel a feeling that will never bail.
This life has been hell.
Yet, we bask in the heat
of the moment.
When temptation rains upon us
we always lose focus.
How can we resist it
when him and his enemy
sent it.

If God don't like ugly
God don't like me.

-Klash
Please like & share :) much love!
Mr Incognito Jan 2015
You were wailing like a wounded puppy
Your voice was craving for love and sympathy
It appealed to my dormant magnanimity
And thus for you I opened my heart’s door
Least did I know you were an ugly *****.

I stood beside you at your one call
Your tantrums, your malice I bore ‘em all.
To make you smile daily became my life’s goal
But you were so thankless it shook me to the core
I should have known earlier, you were an ugly *****

Though my knowledge about love was low
Yet at times I wondered if you really know
so much definitions of it and the metaphors bestowed
then why did your breakup happen once before
perhaps because he too knew, you were an ugly *****

What I thought was your love with glee
Was actually an act of backstabbing me.
You betrayed in the first chance given to thee
Now I shall give you chances no more
Because now I know that you are an ugly *****.
Dedicated to all the ******* who betrayed their lover.
Lexie Nov 2014
I wish I was ugly
Then maybe I wouldn't hear so many lies
I am not the most beautiful girl in the world
Not even close

I wish I was ugly
I can sleep on my own, I just want to rest
I don't need you to keep me warm
Not this night

I wish I was ugly
So that no one would give me another look
They would just drift on by
Not with a care

I wish I was ugly
So my dreams were more substantial
Unbroken by boys who think they are boss
Not in your dreams

I wish I was ugly
So less mascara would be wasted on my cheeks
Instead of on tear stained lied to lashes
Not that waterproof

I wish I was ugly
Except I don't think anyone would love me
They don't like me beautiful
Not even a little

I wish I was yours
Forever and a day
Without all the lies and tears
That get in our way

— The End —