"zit" poems
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.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
F**k butterflies, my stomach has birds in it.
My body's shaking, my heart is racing, my pulse is high.
You're gorgeous, and I woke up this morning with a zit.
How'd a girl like you settle for a "me" kind of guy?
I'm usually witty, but my words don't work well for this.
It's just that you're so pretty, you make my knees weak!
At the end of the date, my pulse hit five-fifty.
I realize it's lame that I asked for permission before we kissed...
I was just trying to take the time to aim for your lips.
See, the funny part is...
I was afraid I might miss.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
Ugly is a strong word.
More often than not, I find myself feeling unpretty.
There are times when I feel gorgeous, but then I look in the mirror: and feel unpretty.
My hair doesn't hang right, that zit popped up overnight, and God, my glasses: wouldn't I **** for better sight. I am unpretty.
I suppose I could handle being unpretty if my roommate was not pretty.
But she is.
And I am not.
And I sit here as the unpretty one.
Her hair is long and thick, curls to perfection, and straightens upon command.
It's pretty.
She's pretty.
And I sit here as the unpretty one.
Knock Knock Knock
There's a guy at the door! I open it: "is your roommate in?"
No.
Bu I'm here. why not come in and wait for her. Talk to me for a while, even if I am the unpretty one. "No, that's okay, tell her I came by."
Okay.
Will do.
Not like I wanted to talk to you.
I wish it were just the guys who notice that I'm the unpretty one.
No.
It's the girls too.
My entire floor flocks to my door, wishing it were my roommate more
than me.
I answer the door and faces fall; can't they just pretend to be happy at all
to see me?
No.
I guess not.
It's a side effect of being unpretty- the unpretty one.
I am not ugly.
I used to not even feel unpretty-not until I became the unpretty One.
Life used to be so flirty and fun- now I am the unpretty one.
Life is a comparison, I guess: and now I'll always be second best.
I am the unpretty one.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
a zit—(white iceberg tip
infection-floating)
a heart (yours was always lipid-
slippery)
an ember (firefly abdomen
exhaling in black velvet)
a full bladder—(toilet-bowl relief:
a temporary prescription)
a bag of hot chips (extra habanero
for a spicy explosion)
a sink pipe (domestic artery rupture
of your sledgehammer swing)
a water balloon, (concrete-spiked,
insoluble rubber jigsaw)
spaghetti in the microwave: (blood
stain pattern analysis of metal walls)
a seam. (sewn ending
frays: leave the stitch, re-exposed.)
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Myths
They were not statues
and now you see what they see
looking back at you
Man
Her tongue, was so sharp
dissevers men from their ******
kisses them goodnight!
Our blind date went well
Next time leave my mask at home,
and her eyes attached.
Scratched, stained, double locked.
Basement corner, light bulb off.
Refrigerator.
Won't let him hurt you.
I promise, now go and hide,
Daddy is coming...
I don't remember,
I keep having these blackouts.
Sorry I hurt you.
Movie
Make-out Point, moonlight...
Turn their car radio on,
leave my hook behind.
50 ft. Woman,
dreams of a fifty foot world.
Curse my two left feet.
Empty, shiny man
His axe hacks you limb from limb
You hear a heartbeat
Wound too tight, tied down
Whisper lies, impale your skull
What is a real boy?
"Last person on earth,
dif'rent faces in mirror."
- Frankenstein's Monster
Miscellaneous
appeared as a zit
it grew, no concern for it
it spoke! holy ****
Lamprey fingertips
Coarse hair on infected tongue
Lotus seed ******
My beast sounds like love,
vanity to a monster,
hero to a ghost.
from Horrors Grotesque,
the existential monster
fears little carpals.
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 4:29 PM UTC
Beauty is power
The words we teach our girls
whipped mousse over the freckles along your temples
will get you respect
the zit under your chin
will make you somebody to avoid for a month
The rouge on your cheeks
will make people think they've made you laugh each time you smile
Taken more seriously under anonymity on cyberspace
than to that same person talking to your face
As the standards grow higher
The modified faces and bodies of revlon and maybeline
become tall tales in every sense
The waistline is taken in to better display the shellac of that manicure
why of course!
as more and more voices go hoarse
from taking out meals before
in fear of a body to abhor
when beauty is power
and its concepts changing
is it only to keep us from misbehaving>
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
Oh the fluid blood that flows
Thick
Dark
Blue.
Through tiny orifices.
Plastic
Metal
Too.
Forming words
Thoughts
Ideas.
Scribbling on.
Scratching at.
Oh the things they've felt
a hand gripping tight
Forcing ink out of the tip
Like a freshly popped zit
Oozing and flowing freely.
Or pre-cum on a raging *****
Dripping
Tantalizing
Suggesting.
What may come of it?
What masterpiece will be born?
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 5:11 PM UTC
gucci on my feet
dior on my outfit
something about making
all the money back
busy windshield wipers, red light.
messing with dating apps
while you’re talking
about buying black ops 4
forget what my purpose is
misted in the same drizzling cloud
fogging up the windows
the funny noises you make
when you laugh
dispel all the monsters
away in my mind
philosophy away, leaving an echo
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
When I grow up,
I want to marry
A Hollister model.
Mother says
I should reconsider.
Seriously,
Reconsider.
But deep down,
I know
that's what I want.
Because behind all of
The airbrush
The diets
The workouts
The computer enhancements
There lies,
A woman.
And on that woman,
Somewhere,
there lies
Scar tissue?
A birthmark?
Or worst of all..
A zit.
Somewhere,
On that perfect woman
There lies,
An imperfection.
And that is why I love her.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 11:44 AM UTC
i was in a terrible accident
one of those classic floor waxing accidents
scarred my face
FOR LIFE
i cant fill out my mustache anymore
my right side
near the corner of my mouth
BARREN
then there was that other one
terrible accident
folding clothes this time
SCARRED FOR LIFE
standing over a table
repetitive motions
each and every arch absent
DEFLATED
oh god remember that one
scarred for life
accident etched in
ORGANIZING RECORDS
the shelf collapsed
the knick knacks from the top shelf
cracked Funkadelic
NO MORE FUNK
and while i lament
****** stache
flat feet
broken record
real things happen
like that zit between my eyes
overgrown shrubs
1080p overheated
i mean things REAL people care about
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC
What foes or friends do we perceive when we connect by chance conceived?
Would you care to explain how this is my fault?
Pray tell tis Joseph come to his census.
Come nigh so late to what truth evinces.
Four heed own Lay won knot thin kit sis...
Prays got a buff!
Fine uh Lee…
Coarse sit duhs pour ten dove baa doe mens.
Naughty ville purse say! Oar eve in dud ark Om end...
Shell Ira Bjorn ease? Orb headers till yore effete?
Ike ant aft tub Abe eave oar yew yen owe...
Wall oh win knit.
Gore Ida head.
Yuck use amoeba *** is hint umm eye fall tis zit?
Yuck cues amoeba ditz nada tall mite urn toot ache tub lame.
Bub I...
Hope Joe Ill step pup two wit all
Irie lay trill lee dew
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
with the lust
of a 14 year old ***** boy
playing hooky
eyes blink orbs
riding the bumpy
**** grind yields
a mental representation
*her ***
a Coney Island ride
reciprocity of tongue and groove
a big dipper
and a hot dog
in a bun eating contest
i eye the shape of her legs
brahmana of form
**** cake butter scallops
with a prune skin ****
***** dark little sister
going along for the ride
with hidden talents
*om shakti om
holy donut with a zit*
rubbing myself
a peripatetic command
like I had the junkies itch
in a bearded clam sea
of black nail claws
like musical notes
that tear flesh
hegemony of *** art
*make me bleed *****
Tangula The Exotic Shake Dancer
moves infallible hips
and dancing hands like octopi
tickling bloated *****
ta-ting go the finger cymbals
smiling she called pip squeak
colossus of her dreams
flick tongues the meringue
licking the
shimmering tantra pistol
finger up the **** hole
brings a prostate exclamation point
and a throat gag lyric
for a wagon train
of wrap around lips
zooming spit and spray
wet like scungelli
her *******
like cloud cookies
****** my mouth
gasper boy
chokes on
a marshmallow fire
i kiss her feet
and work my way up
the slippery slope
a starved dog
…
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 8:54 PM UTC
stolen verses blanket the floor space
encircled by the inspiration of others
tastelessly faceless
pests controls fail
as the numbers overwhelm
everyone thinks there are special
and the selfies are there to prove it
zit faced miscreants misrepresent mankind
in asexual fodder and anthropomorphic
suburban camo
turban wearing wash-outs
hold court over newbies
attempting to sew again
hippy seeds
their stench, deafening –
sandaled dirt clods
scamper
seeking selfishly surrogates
someone to birth their ideas
raise and tend the dreams
fund the movement
all the while recognizing the futility
feverishly fapping the frail phallus
frequently finding foolish *********
flipped in their folly –
********* the finale
freakish frogs filibuster
night creeps in as the soft sound of mating toads
fill the air
stars dot the moonless night
complete in its absence of clouds
only the wash of the milky way
holds hearts –
pandering to the philanthropist
looking longingly in giving eyes
for a scrap of dignity
and bread –
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Loving you seemed effortless
I was beautiful
Even with the strands of hair out of place
I was funny
Even when it was just a causal comment I thought of halfway
I was clever
Even when the things I said were never always quite right
Loving you seemed effortless
I never had to wake up early to pick my clothes
I no longer worried about the zit on my nose
I didn't feel the need to tie my hair
I just came as I was
And you accepted it there and then,
Magnificently
Perfectly
Loving you was effortless
How our conversations continued tirelessly
You knew just the right things to say
And I did too
we could understand each other
Magnificently
Perfectly
Like a whole new language
Only we understood
And how you told me I looked beautiful
Even though I was not
Then loving myself became effortless
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
Adults wear make up and try to hide it
Or at least they want people to see
Their best side, and think it’s really them.
Kids, on the other hand, or teens
Are not meant to wear make up
So that means they wear it...
Loud and proud!
Bright red lips!
A mascara sandwich -
With blue eye shadow sauce.
I’m stuffing my face with quick fit zit fix
Foundation, blemish remover
And a dab of blush.
See, I get a rush
When I see myself in mirrors
And don’t recognize myself for half a second
Think, ooh who’s that?
The teachers hate it
But it’s my face -
And face it - it’s my right
If I wanna change it.
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 7:45 PM UTC
Oh stuffy how you are so soft
So perfect and held aloft
On your soft cushion of stuffing you sit
Even as i age and grow my first zit
Oh stuffy how you are so great
So perfect and the size of a plate
The perfect companion
Through the treacherous
Canyon of age.
Never let me enter the haze
For i shall be lost in a daze
Waiting for the phase
Of being old to slowly encroach.
Never let me enter that haze
And remind me of the days
Where books ended in rhymes
And we played in our minds
Never let me forget the time
When time simply forgot to tick
Stretching between naps and noms.
Reminding me of my first tooth
This is an ode to youth
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 4:25 PM UTC
I have begun to
Stiffen up
When a particular word
Walks into the room
This word is an intimidating and
Curvaceous woman
With crimson red lips and
A horrid laughter that leaves me
With reddened, chafing ears
And misted vision
Have I fallen victim?
To Beauty’s dear friend
Insecurity, a wide mouthed *****
Whom manifests in every human’s features
The zit above my brow
Or the scar along my lip
In actuality Insecurity seems
Unaware of her duty to ruin me
Instead she has allowed Beauty
To ****** my subconscious
For beauty has crawled in my skin
And made herself quite comfy
She has reddened my lips
Given me corn silky hair and height
Everyone loves her and the
Glimmer that she has put in my eyes
That shine is actually the sheen
Of foggy tears
But what admirer
Gives a **** about that?
This beast; Beauty
Within my skin
She is all
That I am good for
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
I’m sick of this electric energy
sub ways and motorcars
crumby rain and distraught smiles
empty faces gloom
shadows lurch and hang in dead air
untouched is the love that has collected dust
fallen into the synthetic mist
racing speeds
fast
fast
zoom
and then it ends…
I want that electric energy
To show its impurities
To become raw
To become real
***** braces and zit cream
backwards living and hand sanitizer
***** breast enlargements and diet pills
***** not smiling
Afraid to appear too forward
***** smiling because you’re afraid people will think you’re negative
Afraid…
Afraid of what?
Just hold onto yourself and do as you please
Simply because you enjoy It, because it sparks you on fire igniting your passions
Feel the rain
Let it fall onto your skin
Free of products
Free your skin from these creations
Made by man
Man craving more and more
Greed and hunger
Do not feed that man
Let him
Embrace
The level he is at
Let him learn to feel satisfaction
And how it works in opposition
The more you feed the hungrier you get
Let that rain penetrate deep inside of you
Notice the nature
The beauty
Close your eyes
And stop
Nothing is anything
And nothing is everything
Don’t be locked in chains your whole life
Only you hold the key
Forget the ideas
That made you feel
Anything but yourself
And remember
The wisdom you gained from hardships
Negativity is a sinking boat
Hold onto that flying power with positive thoughts and creations
Let your spirit soar high racing through the clouds let you become you
And please
Forget
That electric energy
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
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
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 5:40 AM UTC
I walk in
and throw my faded, ripped, three year old, coca cola pajama pants
toward the tub
just soft enough to miss the shower curtain.
I close the door and take off my shirt,
undo my belt, step out of my pants
and just stand there and look at myself:
my hair is a dull brown, and messed up, but I don't care tonight.
My pupils are dilated; a few too many ibuprofen.
my nose still looks half broken on the side opposite my scar.
my left eye has bags, as it always has,
as does my right- between the merging of two faint bruises;
one from a Nerf bullet impact turned sty I had removed,
the other from a zit which overtook my cheek a few weeks back.
my forehead is wrinkled prematurely
my unshaven chin and scalp both growing grays.
my collarbones stick out enough for me to fit my fist in when I lean forward.
my neck widens in the back in a way that looks unnatural.
my biceps, chest and stomach are all muscular, firm;
the result of two workouts every day.
But it is my leg that shows my pain,
shows the strength I still tell myself I have
or rather the strength of the weakness I sometimes let take over in it's place-
knee to ankle;
fresh cuts, all bleeding
each a quarter inch apart.
not the most I've ever had, but the longest stretch of my body I've ever covered completely.
and I don't even remember why.
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 3:50 AM UTC
Globally dense, our ailing nation
makes one weep for sheer frustration
thoughts and dreams grow numb.
Tech-addled students scroll on phones,
‘midst scent of android pheromones,
wafting digital dumb.
Pop-culture, narcissist unkind
dispenses with the human mind
which, failing further, falls behind
the grimly global curve.
We read, in writing on the wall
arithmetic’s impending fall
while numbers loiter in the hall
to get what they deserve.
ENQUIRY, tagged as D.O.A,
a sheeted stiff, is wheeled away
her mourners left to grieve.
entitled maiden, full of sass,
LIBERTY begs a bathroom pass
her bladder to relieve.
When zit-faced rebels run the show
the dismal ratings plummet low;
a vulgarized cartoon.
Descending to unfathomed levels,
Ignorance applauds her devils
calling out their tune.
PATRIOTISM, tarred and feathered
headless, claws its cage untethered
foul, unloved, unfree:
Another casualty of time
which fell for want of noble rhyme;
to water FREEDOM’s tree.
CURIOSITY, half asleep,
now stirs and murmurs from the deep
uninterested, untaught.
She grows yet duller in her ways
returning to her ocean daze,
(her schools of fish uncaught).
HISTORY, dormant, lies in dust
a narrative no man can trust
a book no scholar reads.
Events unstudied as designed
wherein the heart of humankind
for want of context, bleeds.
DEMOCRACY degenerates
until God wills and activates
a nation’s drive to learn.
Curricula will be made void;
disheartened teachers unemployed,
their wisdom fit to burn.
You think the past was less obtuse?
Less prone to youthful thought-abuse?
Perhaps… back in the day.
And though it may have been the same.
this poet opts to place the blame
on digital delay.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC
when it's a pin *****
on my soft skin a zit pops
i play my mind trick
and i stop
to think of the pain i choose
how i want to bruise
and bedazzle my back
in thumbtacks
running razor blades
making crimson masks
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 8:02 PM UTC