Best Contouring Poems
stay here,
find me passionate-
feel my idyllic pleasure fight none
exceedingly loved am i without fear
adrift the Atlantic tides rescuing me
into safe solace
echoes of your soliloquy reach depths
too deep to comprehend
your thoughts,
my words-
your amour,
my soul-shining wonder
once languid, now strong,
for this is the dalliance i’ve
always dreamed of in my youthful longings
contouring the outline of your silhouette,
renown for all you are to me and more-
whispering poetries to your heart
as i walk o’er bridges of hope;
for i shall never be alone…
again
nevermore shall be no more,
for it’s you that i adore
and
the moonlit breeze lays flowing-
this love we share, softly glowing
12.8.19
DRAWN TO UNKNOWN SPACES
Could there be sight more alluring
Than the bending of a lane
Or a brow of hill’s contouring
Could there be sight more alluring
Tied attention thus unmooring
Like a lyrical refrain
Could there be sight more alluring
Than the bending of a lane
As the Sun lights distant clearing
I am drawn to unknown spaces
t’ward the light by pathways veering
As the Sun lights distant clearing
Always changing ever nearing
Viewpoints new or well loved places
As the Sun lights distant clearing
I am drawn to unknown spaces
I can hear It dying.
Over and over, its screams won’t leave me be.
Voices, not mine, they’re not real.
It’s not real.
In silent air, this quiet night,
Grey fog shields it from my sight.
The farther it sounds, the closer to me.
Out here is not the place to be.
It lingers, stalks, and does not sleep.
Empty eyes, a missing soul.
A broken vessel with no mind of its own.
A Ship of Theseus that shouldn’t exist.
Estranged limbs, countless shapes.
Contouring into something?
No,
Someone.
Multiple masks, hiding behind false innocence.
Deer, sheep, dogs, It hides.
It hides. It lies.
It lies.
Your flesh will rot
but mine will not.
I’ll wear your skin
I’ll be your kin.
Covering your face with strokes of color and gold/, but as Hatshepsut your inside is dead, cold/
Likes or dislikes thats all that pops up/, yeah your soul disappeared, went cloud up/
Contouring overdone, below a crop top there is an illusion of abs/, not a sight of slack/, just to get some more egoboosting feedback/ and some more ads/
Obsessive fullness to creat that perfect look/, defections all fixed, viewers conclusion, yeah a milliondollar look/, everything done just to keep them followers hooked/
Meaningless ink confirms that you are one of the many copies in this gallery/ seductive nudity to provide for what you call a salary/
Like an addict/ you possess an unpleasant habit/, you use needles to poke a flat empty space out, just to get some more views at it/
Yeah instead of woman up/, you fillers up/, being so fake that you are getting true at it/
In a 6 inch cell case your life is locked/, charged with only a lense of glass, shouts out, blocked/
Constant tapping will crack that screen, your protection/, leaving your storebought curves slowly oxidizing, no more public acception/
Soon too post for the present, forgotten, as your time has lined out/, yeah this exhibition is over and you're out/
Don't wake me up with whispers devastating Soul
Eyelids? Two petals of withered, love-thirsty rose
I dance in white and black with fins in Paradise
Ephemeral Self defending Purity of nameless cloud...
Don't trace my steps contouring our Dark horizons
HE watched through branches when we played “Sunset”
I told a homeless seagull: “ You know? Don't need to suffer
I'm growing gills of Hope... submerged in Fantasy...
(photo is on my Wall on Facebook...)
You are the green in my life.
The parts all molded around my heart,
Leaving your mark wherever you may go.
You are the parts that I love so much.
The flowering bits that grow and thrive.
The twisting vines
Snaking their way,
Curving around each of my veins
Until there is no life without your life.
You are the most bountiful garden;
My hands contouring your budding skin
Waiting for this love to bloom.
The specks of green are lily pads
Floating in your eyes
& I am oh so careful to not disturb
These precious ponds.
Everyday I'm finding new secrets
On your skin, like the moles on your back
And the flowers in your head.
You are the greenness that often engulfs my soul
Seeping through my pores
As if I were your garden
Your flowers, your lilies and your ponds.
As if I were the green in your life as well.
You are the grass stains on my knees
That never seem to give way
No matter how much I scrub.
Sooner or later, I'll know to give in
And let these marks lay permanent as a reminder
That you're here to stay.
I've never felt a green like you.
You are the deepest of stains
And the heaviest of hearts.
And I'll harvest these moments of sunshine
As long as they shall thrive
Within my grasp.
This painter decides on a photo of a girl or boy, their face or body, to be distant or intimate, a photo with an idea.
This idea decides on a size of the canvass to be square or rectangle, modest or grand, a canvass with intent.
This intent decides whether photo shopping is to be cut out or level, hazed or clear, a painting with fidelity.
This fidelity decides the precision of pencil preparation drawing on the canvass, the thick or thin widths, straight or sweeping contouring.
This contouring decides whether the fluidity of the paint plate tray has black oozing like black blood, or dolloping globs of grey when creating a cognitive fifty shades of black.
This shading of black decides the brown or green, red or blue colours of hushed tone.
This hushed tone decides the narrow brush creating exacting curves of figures, the jagged cryptic shading to straight forms of silhouettes.
This silhouette decides the vast areas used by the ample brush detouring like a compass giving perceptions like vague needed by the painter.
This painter decides the name of this obscure and ambiguous girl or boy painted in pop art.
Entered into Chain Verse 1 contest by Edward Ebbs, placed 6th
Within us, there is a lost device,
An ancient form of thinking,
An invisible heirloom passed down to entice,
For comprehension of our being.
Vastly unknown to the populous,
Widely used by the intellect and the aware,
Insistent and tenacious,
A device, attainable but rare.
Should it appear, soak in it,
Revel in the mystery and wonder,
Seek and you shall find the darkness lit,
An emergence. A spark to ponder.
Repetition is the key,
Of unlocking the unknown,
For synchronicities you will see,
And former beliefs will be thrown,
An unspecified form, a potential,
Contouring into the imagination,
Truth will come, timing an essential,
Acknowledgement lies in discussion,
With contribution and collaboration,
Diverging and aberrant,
Sparking singularity in cooperation,
A device for recognizing the significant.
12/10/16
Old Dame On A Footloose
She held on to the firm grip of the extended invite
Pent up desires vented out in the market site
Elasticity in the heart of the rumpled weathered skin
Coyly she smiled with hat in the air and stick clanging away
Tantalising onlookers at her rubber bends and silky shapes who
Adoringly were mesmerised at the symphony of music and her youthful heart
Contouring to the swift steps of her guiding young leader
Ultimate joy escalated with the rising crescendoing
Lulled silence and gaping mouths as she danced her first tango
Age no barrier for the old dame on a footloose
Redefining a ravaged body with music in the soul
( Earlier Janauary 18, 2016)
February 15,2016
Screwed 11
Rob Carmack
Heart beats in fingertips
as a gentle breeze
beckons kisses
that quenches
deprivation
finger tapped skin
is an invitation for
Where do we begin?
Your eyes accompany
a guided tour
contouring the imperfections
of your sanctuary
making them sit perfectly
on deeper surfaces
Relishing how ancient
history evolves into
Time has a way
of wishing for
more moments
such as these
building mountains
by dismantling walls
wanting to find short
so I can nestle in your shadow
Your strength is solid
as saving grace
In you, I can see
the gestation of my
spirituality
I'd break more religious tenets
just to taste half of you.
Always falling in love
with how my heart feels beating
against your skin
Quiet at first
then a hush abounds
Reflection never
sounded this loud.
I whisper…
In a nearly inaudible voice
Softly but firmly… into your ears
The insatiable desires, the irreversible regrets, the off the limits dreams
the unspeakable aloneness.
So selfish of me
forcing you to embrace the sums of me
Into your extensive universe
Along with the immense weight of the secrets
Up the mountains and down the rivers
Oh, this unbearable cradle of burdens
The undulating figures of yours, contouring like the lovers’ naked bodies
Seductive, mystical, exhilarating, unsettling…
Soaring high in the sky
Spreading across to the world’s end
Then disappearing into these clouds of fluffiness
Clouds, as white as light as the whipping cream,
elegantly sitting above the mortal world, like a delicious layer cake.
Just when I thought I had lost you
You proudly stick your snow-capped heads up, up above the oceans of clouds
Longing to be admired, caressed and eventually conquered.
Now all that secrets
Infiltrating every pore, every limb, every vein of your bodies
My pulses, my spirits echo yours; and my heart, of course
There is no escape, one we are
Burying and interwinding life’s mystery into each other
For the thousand years to come.
Life born and reborn
Stories told and retold, lived and relived
Reincarnate into unrecognizable forms and shapes.
But I know somewhere and everywhere in these sacred mountains
Dotted with my hidden secrets
Secrets only shared by the occasional skeletons of the unlucky trekkers
Or a few random lost souls, here and there
By the grave I saw blacken snow flakes
Lightning flashed as I witness
Drawn down from blacken purple skies
Burst of brilliants, winter blast snow blind
Upon a midnight electrics static,
you came gently clanging
Deep into that darkness changing, snow blind
To warn me about the steady
That incremental isocheim - that incremental isocheim
Death shall bring trends
Eagerly I looked for tragedy, wintertime
The festivals alteration adjusting
The dynamics brought such sorrow, snow blind
I have dreams of flows misting snow men and women kissing
I crave the coolish, changeable climate
The cyclic cold snap contouring
Take thy gruel hot coal from out my heart
Come stand wit me twit the freezing blizzard
Come dear heart
Much I marveled the integrated icebox
The snow-covered snowplow steadying shoveling
So inviting is the thought…
To be frozen with me come not see will be so kind
If together we be 2 frozen lovers just snow blind
1/29/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY.
The pleasant odour of her bodily juices on my sheets,
Crumples of her blood red lipstick stains on my cheeks,
The sweet, soft brush of her hands and finger prints,
Her resonant smooth voice that made my eyes squint,
Her dark radiant skin,
Flawless, as though painted by the most delicate hand,
Her impeccable mango chin,
Fine-made, like a carefully carved brown slate
That flimsy light dress,
Casually following the contouring of her curved shape,
Those wild expressionless eyes,
Luring my lust into her attractive snares,
She is the memory of one night and a day,
She is the one that got away…
The sun shines through my soul today,
Contouring the shape of my glory,
Exposing the jagged that once was a smooth,
Exposing every piece of my story.
My portrait of psyche, silhouetted in black,
Stands, proudly showing all that I feel,
All that I think about all that I’ve done,
From a happy to a tormented surreal.
And my soul disregards the ignorance of folks,
Folks who don’t understand me.
Those folks who think my soul must be insane,
Enduring these wounds to be free.
Yep, my soul is ablaze for all of today,
No hiding, exposed by the sun.
The sun showing my me that’s all that I am,
A broke soul just wanting some fun.
Awarded 2nd in Contemporary poetry contest
Shadows
Silhouettes, shades of night
Obscure the hope, the heart, the right
Murky doubts, floating silent
Quiet as a mouse, abiding discreetly
Spiritually tumbling into the melancholic
Flames of a burning, breathless
Mourning, grief unburied, dreary
Dreading the moment…
Shoveling darkness over a casket
Dusk falls carefully, blackening
Edges of gloom –
Feelings, desolation growing
Grieving for the yearning,
Pouring out the autumn tears
Breaking through the light, insights
Whispers of dusk crying out in shapes
Outlines of death, skeletal ashes
Passing into the presence
Past weeping, wailing, howling for hope
Wiping away the tears, burying
Fear with the crisp, cool mornings
Edged with auburn and scarlet, embers
Alive, awakening brisk feelings, o’er and o’er
Painting the chestnut somber, urgency
Dejection in the sculpting…
Shadows arranged on the earth
Birthing a feeling, a passion
Contouring the loss, the fatality
Blending embraces, naked kisses
With the miracle of healing that arises
From faith, despite the dark, telling signs
Emerging from the twilight, evening glows
In the breathless blaze, sparks
Stars and moon creating their reflections
Amid the nocturnal pleasures
Erasing all the despondency of night
So everything in life feels better, feels right
As the shadows fade into dawn’s delicious light
Beauty Of Night Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Entered Contest: November 13, 2022