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Indigo Morrison Sep 2014
Tell the truth about the way we loved.
Savagely
Fervidly
Passionately
Wildy
We burned down the walls of our own bedroom
We gave the stars a show
The shore something to grab hold of...
We were endless
Brilliant in our together
Innovators in our type of beautiful.
We inspired...
Men to love women whose mind's were worth
kneeling for,
And women who loved men with respect worth
submitting to...
Tell them how we loved
Tell them
Their was love
in the  way our feet moved
in relation to the other
The way our eyes danced through
all of these people
Till their was something worth settling on...
For me it was you...
For you it will forever be me...
I will tell them...
because sometimes the things that burn
the brightest tend to leave one breathless...
In a world so self contained...
We could not burn down these walls for our beautiful...
-The story of a mulatto girl & a vanilla boy...
Mr Bigglesworth Mar 2013
For the second time in March we have snow
Could someone please wake spring from her slumber
She should be here by now fighting the good fight, wiping clean the wintersmiths frosty drawings

Last year she had tucked him away
She had read him his bedtime story
Last year we had seventeen, this year we have merely two

How he must be laughing, running amok through the hills and the valleys
Turning everything white with a wave of his hand
But where is she? Even he must miss her so, even he must be longing to dance

Still it is not his place to question
He can only do what is in him to do
With a sigh he exhales a bitter northerly wind and coats the confused daffodil with a jacket of ice

Then off he goes dancing alone
Spinning wildy through the towns like a leaf in a web
Stopping only to place his hands on those foolish enough to leave flesh exposed

Maybe she has forsaken us
Maybe she has resigned her post
Like when the last ice age hit and she took a sabbatical

I hope she has just slept in
Or maybe she is just getting ready for the grandest of entries
Yes let us hope she is just sorting through her vast collection of colourful dresses

Because if she does not appear and dance the dance of seasons change
If she doesn't take the wintersmith by the hand and sing him softly to sleep
Then that giant golden skinned adonis of a man summer will not come!

Without her he will not appear
Without her beauty we will not feel the warmth of his love
Oh someone please wake spring from her slumber
Ember Evanescent Nov 2014
I guess I don't exactly know what I want to be
I don't know what I think the definition of physical beauty is
Because there are people I see with very flouncy curly and glistening golden blonde hair
Then I see Asian girls with their glossy raven black locks
I see girls with STUNNING blue eyes
And girls with magnificent hazel eyes
I see two of my friends who have brown eyes like me, only they have these BEAUTIFUL maple eyes
I see girls with heart-shaped jawline
I see girls with rounder jawlines
I see girls with tiny waists
And curvy girls
I see girls with cute little smiles
And bright, wide grinning smiles
ALL OF THEM ARE SO BEAUTIFUL
I don't even know WHAT I want to be
I just know that I wish there were a celebrity
Who existed
Who was WILDY adored and loved by everyone
Who was successful and never criticized
Who was not necessarily UGLY
But was undeniably not particularly traditionally physically pretty
But her soul was LOVELY
Her personality was imperfect
And she ******* up
But she was still a GOOD PERSON
and her values and what was inside her was what made her so globally popular
Because maybe if I stopped seeing everybody as so unbelievably BEAUTIFUL
then I would stop CARING that I was so hideous
I just really wish
"Pretty" didn't have a definition
But varied
You could look at someone
And what each person found pretty
Was COMPLETELY different
because I care way too much
because I hate hearing that I am "pretty" when I so clearly am not
but it's even worse when I hear that I'm not
Or if someone edges around it by saying: But you are a beautiful person INSIDE
avoiding admitting that I'm ugly
I hate hearing about how ugly I am
because it reminds me
but I also hate hearing about how supposedly "pretty" I am
because immediately in my head
that little voice that sounds exactly like my own
except very cruel and sadistic
The mean-streak part of me
It whispers in my mind
THEY ARE LYING TO YOU
YOU ARE UGLY AND HIDEOUS
AND NO ONE IS EVER GOING TO CARE ABOUT WORTHLESS YOU.
BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT WHAT SOCIETY DEFINES AS PRETTY
YOU ARE WORTHLESS AND UGLY.
DON'T LISTEN TO THEIR PROMISES THAT YOU ARE PRETTY
BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT.
that is all I hear in my head.
or if I hear OH BUT YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL PERSON INSIDE THAT IS MORE IMPORTANT
the voice whispers: did you recognize that? Hear it? See it?
They specifically avoided saying you were physically pretty
So whether they are right or not about what is more important, inner or outer beauty
They have still admitted to you
In an underhanded way
That you ARE ugly
they have confirmed what I have always told you
YOU ARE NOT PRETTY
YOU NEVER WILL BE
and do you know what?
I don't care anymore about what is important
I want to be physically beautiful
It's like when you just really want cake
it might be unhealthy
It might not matter
It isn't good to obsess over
but you JUST WANT IT
you want it so badly
and you can't function properly without it
until you have that desire given in to
but I can't tell them that anymore
so they don't have to lie to me to spare my feelings which makes me feel awful
or so they don't have to be honest and either tell me I'm ugly or edge around it by bringing up inner beauty and using a BUT before it
because that makes me feel even WORSE
I will not talk about it anymore
I will just let it dominate my poetry
because I must write
I must WRITE to keep it from consuming me
that is all I have
If I can't speak of the pain anymore
I must write.
that is my escape.
feel free not to read this. it is pretty **** long and mostly it is just me needing to get something out. it's really just my form of release, not for it to be actually GOOD poetry. because it is really not. but if you can relate then hey, great :)
yeah... I don't know what is wrong with me.
Icarus Jul 2011
today you could chose
to be silent or to shout
to sulk or to sway
to stall, simmer or bubble forth, overflow.
you decide.
your call.

but today,
i wish for you to dance
(just a wish, mind you)
a twist, a two-step, a waltz in solo
or just lose it wildy alone in the yard
with a flurry of smiles, adorning your face
your limbs undulate in synch
with the colors of your dress in a blur
brown curls sailing with the breeze
your blue eyes buried in stifled laughter
your fingers curl in beguiling pose
while you sway your hips
like cursive graffiti upon a sacred wall
sweat rising on hallowed ground
celebrating the impossible chance
that you even ******* exist.

should you opt to dance
please bury your troubles away
there is time enough to be sad another day
break out like a malady of mirth
infect us fervent with your delicious antics
we know you are crazy enough
to be trusted with our pernicious lives
for there are those of Us gathered
wandering souls with bated breath
to see your feet convulse in rhythm
and lead the parade.
i take my place in the crowd,
throw in my well-wishes
in that big vat of love a-boiling
in the center of the square
ready to see you go nuts.
you decide.
your call.

dance,
for the sake of dancing
love,
for the sake of loving.

so listen to the song spinning.
just maybe,
you could grant me the honor
of capturing your untamed vision
paint it with fierce abandon on this canvass
and offer it as my humble gift.

happy that you were born.
honored to meet you
right at the corner of this universe.

best wishes on your birthday!
Written for my Beloved on her birthday...
The sweet never grows old
Or so it has been said silently and fortold
But one never knows what fortune may hold

Fortune, the misguided traveler
Whom, winds wildy send
That,in dandy-lionic fashion is fortune's fend
All the troubles of tyrants have brought to bend
There you find him, dicingly deciding
Riguriously rolling away, not minding
This carousing of carelessness
Is what bought and sold him his business

And business is good
The lifestyle and the luxurious lude
All was pefect, even the mood
But that's the aroura allure
Falling into flooding failure

And business is too good
Lucious conditioning can have one fooled
Fortune is not to be mettled with or tooled
Now it is time for this traveler to be leaved
All the misspoiled one needs is his soul to be retrieved
Luckyliy the lucid fortune's duty has been relieved
your arms are etched
with red and black
they're the story of summer that I look back
on

have i forgotten the sound of the waves
the soft of the cushion
the games that we played

we learned different strategy
and sing different tunes
my only regret is
that i missed the moons

which marked all the hours
of the days that we spent;
we didn't know curses
we didn't pay rent

the days idled wildy
the nights sauntered on,
your arms tell the story
of the summer that's gone
RayRay Jun 2023
there is beauty in innocent intelligence
where the elder sister disturb the younger sister through the window i of class
just so that they can go back earlier
through the changing times of the world
and the storm of wild emotions
it is warm to know that life as humans ages and eons ago, likely shared the same experiences and innocent amusing through the times and ages
we cant ever escape our emotion but rather should deal with it
one way or another
we will never know how
there is just so many ways to handle
all most likely already been explored or trialed
it might work or not
we will not know
through the world
beyond innocent laugher and simple joy
the darkness and terror eludes
how can we stay pure and not judge with such
or how can we be a terror but find pureness
life and human world
is a wildy conflicting place
how can we know for sure
what is what
amused with innocent and terror
Tyler Matthew Dec 2020
In my dreams
you run to me wildy, laughing
amid sunflowers tall as the sky.

In my dreams
we talk for hours letting the night
crawl past the window.

In my dreams
we are never uncertain and
all we have been is lovers.

In my dreams
your love didn't die.
Writingsofgul Sep 2020
I remember when you looked at me
With tears in your eyes
You said you'd never leave me
I remember when you touched me
Your skin gliding on mine
You said yours was made for me and mine yours
I remember when you spoke to me
Your voice as calming and soothing as ever
You said I'd listen to it as much as I wanted
I remember when you placed my hand on your chest
Your heart beating wildy
You said it beats for me and it shall always be mine
But I'm here now alone
You left me and I can no longer hear your voice
You left me and I can no longer feel your skin
Your heart has stopped and it no longer beats
Not for me Not for you
Flailing Wildy in the dark
Panicked dance
Unlikely arc
Stunted verse
Backed up flow
Narrative path
Nowhere to go
So calm your mind
And stand quite still
Take a breath
Pick up your quill.
boundaries tested
wishes disrespected
i tell you how i feel
still don't get the message

trying to be direct with
you but you feel rejected
so you pull away from the conversation
only offering interjections

to change the direction
or 'adjust' my perspective
wildy immature
but sadly much expected

— The End —