Best Disguising Poems


Premium Member Broken People

Broken People

I wish to be with the broken people.
The get in your face challenge me people. The sometimes hidden sitting in a dark corner kinda people.
The “Don't you love me?”
I wish you seen me sorta people.
People just being real people.
Not having to have it all together people. Them doing their best to figure it out people. Dancing and singing without the smooth moves people.

I don't care about the color of their skin, or what others think of as their sin. No need to be perfect to win.
Seeing and listening is where I'll begin. Beyond appearance of fat or thin. I only know what I know
I've never been where they've been.

We'll start 
with our broken smiles
it's the best we've got.
It might seem like so little 
still I think it's a lot.
Through life's struggles we've all fought. Lessons needed learning
experienced not taught.
Real is real it couldn't be bought.

So forget the fake people,
the all about perfect hair and clothes people. The I live in the right neighborhood and drive the right car people. It's all about me, top of the hill people. They only hang out with the supremely cool people.
those too important to talk to me people. Thinking they're the best of the best kinda people, when all along they are merely Sheeple.
Ba ba baaing, thinking they are strong instead of feeble.

I love characters 
people who are unique.
I look under exteriors to gain a peek.
Strength of lions disguised in meek.
Unconcerned with fab or being chic.
Worth listening to if allowed to speak.
The stories they tell will make your eyes leak.

For in the end
we are all broken
stumbling and choking.
Disguising hurt with our joking,
victims of others and their poking.
So look close maybe you'll see
eyes that aren't blank 
hearts that aren't empty.
Who we think of as complicated
in the end might not be.
They might push when others come close,yet they are affectionate times three. Each just a bit afraid and broken. All the while wishing  
and wanting to be a part of something. If only we choose to see
those on the fringes are a part of the we. All we have to do is let them be.
Categories: disguising, people,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Spring Forward

In spring time fresh flowers are rising
New lambs in the fields – not surprising
In every hedgerow and tree
Lush beauty will surround me
It’s heaven; there is no disguising

02~16~15
Contest: Spring Forward -Debbie Guzzi
Syllables checked 9 9 7 7 9
Categories: disguising, spring,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Winter Has Stolen the Night

Winter has stolen the night,  
          A world I have always known, 
          is lost in a blanket of snow, .... 
                       with recognition adrift, and thrown
                             tossed away in the endless white

I gaze over landscapes, whitewashed in the moonlight
       Strange bittersweet etchings of silver starlight

Trees reaching high, with wild naked limbs, 
    Each branch empty handed, their twigs opened wide
          grasping for snow flakes...or something to find
            Something familiar,  that's been left behind

Drifts growing higher, while icicles glimmer
         distorting the mirrors of stars from the night

I know that the moon is hiding, somewhere, 
               caught in the winter's snow of sleep
                    Bemused are the clouds while obscuring the light, 
                          disguising the image we once knew at sight

My world flickers dim, bleaching the ground, 
   Taking my breath, until all words are gone

I cannot recall, I cannot rewind,  all the old music that I've known so well
     
             I strain to hear where summer dwelled, too thin to be recalled
                      Where all the autumn leaves once fell
                          Where seasons green wore flowered hills

They must disappear, with each thing we have known, 
           Bleached by the moon,  until they are pale
                Stars then will spin, and seasons will dim
         
                     But, then all the reasons for believing begins ....


Winter has stolen the night, tonight, and the world I've always known
                is 
                   l
                    o
                      s
                        t
                          .... in the sparkling snow, adrift in the timeless wind.
   _______________________________________________________



Written for contest: A Winter Poem
Judged 12/4/16
Resubmitted for Contest: 2/6/17
Form G or N/A
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories: disguising, seasons, winter,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member return of the butterflies

My muse is a poetic flower garden,
blooming lilacs in barren meadows,
but I still remember 
how I heeded haunting heartbeats
in paradise, whilst praying 
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto my hazy horizons.

Your eyes like captivating sunsets,
made me dream away, 
recalling shells lost in a forgotten 
coral reef, castaway upon 
an elusive island,
where the paths have no name,
but the oceanic breeze 
      calls yours so softly.

I was killing time, 
                 scribbling elegies
on distant musical shores,
where spotted eagle rays
and flying fish were my only mentors.
Nocturnal reef sharks unfolded tales
beneath lonesome skies,
illustrating a secretive stairway
that would lead me
           to the scintillating stars.

Deep within my heart, 
I knew in the darkest 
night you are the light
that would illuminate 
my breathless sighs
with blazing ballads 
      rewriting my fate, 
            reawakening my 
need to thrive through these 
endless melancholic monsoons;
surfing through vast oceans.
Your cosmic radiance pulled 
this chocolate mermaid,
from the bioluminescent 
ripples of sorrow,
empathising with 
      endless streams from
my volcanic mind 
and harmonious heart,
which was in dire 
need of healing,
from draconian depleted 
ideologies imprinted within 
a labyrinth of
          narcissistic daffodils,  
emanating deceptive fragrances
resembling the devil's disciple,
claiming me as nothing,
but a mere self
confessed queen
on a conquest to conquer
the uncontrollable calling 
to a land of virtual hypocrisy.

If only they knew
I no longer desired 
to rule a kingdom of 
    tumultuous pretense.
I was waiting for the 
return of the butterflies,
tearing apart the fragile 
       walls of its cocoon.

I knew if Romeo did not die,
I would be living Juliet's desires.
I was a poetess 
         searching for 
a purpose,  with no sense 
to shelter,   watching the 
last icicle 
        of winter melt away.

Truth deserves a narrative 
that has no ending,
though I question the universe.
Where do the 
     lost poets reside? 
Is it where the 
moon chooses to hide,
disguising dreariness 
within dazzling blankets 
of dancing moonscapes,
or will this be how 
this sleepless soul
seizes its faultless lunar tide?
Categories: disguising, love,
Form: Free verse

Tale of a Former Black Sheep

For years I wore
your shame as my own
and lived unknown
in terror of being seen
like a leper
self-quarantined
intrinsically unclean

Your neglect
became to me
my insignificance
undeserving of your glance

Your abuse
became to me
my fault and utter blame
my soiled but rightful name 

Your abandonment
to me
was my unworthiness
unfit and valueless

'Til this layered shame became
a camouflaging cloak
wrapped about with care
disguising me as if
I wasn't even there

How I avoided them
my friends so true
for they could plainly see
the agony in me
and I couldn't control
it radiating through

Yet butterflies won't stay bound
in crippling cocoons
integrity impugned
by wings that cannot fly-
and I at last have found
the answer to my wounds
in exposing you
and all your lies

You were cruel-
I do matter

You were guilty-
I am not to blame

You were unfit-
I am worthy

You nearly destroyed me-
But I overcame

Now my only dread is
of leaving this world
as un-notably as I came
as invisibly as I lived
to be known only 
by others
as unredeemed as
you thought me to be-
No! the truth
will set me free...

I humbly give
this cloak to you
it was yours to wear
not mine to share

I'm through

I'm through

I'm through.
Categories: disguising, abuse, hope, how i
Form: Free verse

Premium Member In Emerald Shadows

Trying to hide in conspicuous places
a night on the town in their false, plastic faces.
Sweetly they sweep through magnificent halls,
top-dollar galas and masquerade balls -- 
where always the wine is more bitter than sweet,
each girl wishing for love in her ruby-clad feet.

Perhaps scarecrows are thoughtful, and lions are brave,
and the tin-men know passion, such a boisterous parade
of hopeful young suitors, each waiting his chance
to find a young lady and win her last dance. 

All tied up as prisoners with satin-silk chains
they listlessly dance as the hope from them drains.
A piano-man plinks only on the black keys:
pentatonic winds on a pentatonic breeze,
still not enough blowing to carry balloons
or to start raining houses from cyclic typhoons.

The evening draws on -- long beyond the moon’s rising,
a faint glinting of green from the city’s disguising
the envious looks in the eyes of the witches
and harsh threatening gales of the wind as it switches.
And no one is happy, none are finding their prize --
no one knows what they want, nor removes their disguise.
So the dancing is pointless, bravado is hollow
no wizardly magic can fix what will follow.

Shallow connections that lead nowhere, and quickly
the ballroom grows quiet, the witches grow prickly
the lions go fleeing, the scarecrows are clueless,
the tin-men don’t care, and that makes them the cruelest
For out in the public, among all the noise
some girls have gone missing -- and so have some boys
and in the dark shadows, all knew what occurred
but they whisper and gossip, and spread what they heard:
that it must have been mutual, it must be alright
they’re both grown adults, let’s not be so uptight.
And thus they all hide, in conspicuous places
enabling the culprits with false, plastic faces.

9/4/16
Categories: disguising, abuse, analogy, betrayal, dance,
Form: Couplet


Cold Moon Rising

Once again without my lover;
a cold moon is soon to be
For this I have some tension and
anxiety...

If only then I knew
that here would be a twist,
For once there was and now because...
gazing at the mist.

The moon will keep on rising,
stiff my bones become.
This weeping soul; I loved that troll,
freeze sets in; I'm numb.

Will huddle to the morning,
alone I'm here and older.
From the bites of nippy nights,
feeling so much colder.

Be still, retrace eternal grace-
the nights of making love.
So I stir with me you were...
the man unworthy of.

Thus it will keep rising,
as memories return.
Once the cold is bitter,
maybe then I'll learn.

Dear it haunts me truely,
my first, my very last.
The moon it spun- the damage done;
lost love from in the past.

Understanding a mere branding,
revising such disguising.
Never knew I'd be so blue from this
cold moon rising.

You loved me very much,
whilst laying in my bed.
For the day- I'll be OK,
now think you must be dead.

Here it did so take me-
again a night of gloom.
For me was cold- the love you told
reminiscence of thee ruin.

Somehow I must escape this;
to break the loop of woe.
For heavy is the burden,
due to weight I tow.

So looking at the future,
marriage- he's devising.
Will he miss the past of bliss,
through a cold moon rising...


22/03/19 1. Cold Moon Rising, Pick A Title, Vol. 2 - Rhyme - Poetry Contest- Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories: disguising, anxiety, depression, loss, lost
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Pale Shelter

Ashen was the sky 
That rejected hand of sunrise
Sullen was the heart
That stumbled in affection,

Incapable of lauding
Ruby blush of budding rose
And pink passions on horizon
Defying darkened woes.

In midst of a vibrant spring
Her garden blooms curled up
Amid hostile dry weather,

Teared-up, she sat alone
In pathos of indignation
Refusing to surrender
To demands of mendacity.

Crepuscular obscurity
Betrayed her evening
Fashioning night’s reverie
In trickery of nightmares,

As rancor of disillusionment
In ambivalent outrage
Recognized your stygian echoes.

Dead are her feelings now
Stilled in darkened cemetery
In graveyard of misdeeds,

Where spent emotions
Lamenting shattered love
Inscribe finality on tombstone
In epitaph of silent screams
Expounding your infidelity.

Oh, harbingers of cold hands,
Architects of pale shelter,

Glittering shiny metals
Disguising as genuine jewels,

Fear the cry of her angst
Howling soul forsaken

For she holds you in contempt
Of ancient Agape love
And monument to beloved--
The wondrous Taj Mahal.

November 15, 2019
Placed 1st: Pale shelter contest; Sponsor: John Hamilton
Placed 2nd: Strand special 11 by Brian Strand
Categories: disguising, angst, love,
Form: Free verse

Opinion

Every one’s got an opinion
We are entitled to our views
But, we won’t all agree the 
Difference often times are 
Huge
Somehow the simpler the 
Problem harder the 
Moot
Layering instead of issues 
Open wounds
And personalized attacks 
Are used
A point of contention is
The deliberate disguising of
The truth 
Distorting facts
Figures assembled by rote
Really there are a lot to be
Desired
Having regards to the distance
Between what had first prompt 
The opinion
And the reasoning that led
To this irrational tirade and suit
A stuck in a bog like situation
Ensue 
Like the dreaded dream state 
Being awake and can’t speak 
Move or do what you want to
While the root rot
The debates rambles on 
Unable to; save quip,
Get a grip on solid ground
Consensus pursuit
Categories: disguising, satire, spoken word,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

The Violence of Money

There is never an ending
		to the spending
	a world of paper
and plastic to collect
and horde
	clothes
	and cars
	and homes
	and jewelry
	and fine wine
	and paintings
	stocks and bonds
	vacations 
and expectations
entire vocations 
	devoted to 
disguising the numbers
the Caribbean masquerade
to volumes of recorded
purchases and voices 
of invoices
making
	discreet
choices 
all
to extend  
the accumulation
of dates
and names
places and faces
communications
	and connections
		at breakneck
speed
must fill the need
must fill the need
a shouting browbeating
		broadband
handing over
fistfuls	of cash
to make sure
make certain
	only the best
	the finest
	the rarest
of air is not available

for
the underwater martyrs
the silent box dwellers
the empty bottle collectors
the wheelchair drifters
the SRO limbo sellers
the workers at 
		the bottom
	of the 
fast
food
chain

and the indigent gamblers
who line the halls
to knock on doors
of government departments
crippled by reckless
and corrupt state 
administrations
choking the dwindling 
sources 
and resources
		that have
	nothing to do	
but
count the days
and ways
to disappoint
disarm dismay	
dispute the reputations
and  	  applications
held in sweaty palms
eager

to begin living
to end the doubt
to end the not having
the counting of pennies
the slow heroin erosion
the unbroken hollowness
the whiskey-soaked
ravages of vacant histories
better-forgotten memories
of cold emergency rooms

to end being
in a world
apart

a world 
of resentment 
of fear and hate and anger
of dark empty streets
empty recriminations
empty promises
	made to themselves
	by themselves
harming themselves
		or
arming themselves
to rob to steal
to maim

to take whatever they can
for as long as they can
to approximate 
the wonder and magic
	of having what you need
when you need it or want it
to not have to beg
to not have to humiliate 
or be humiliated

to not have to watch 
    the ease of others
who have a casual 
contempt for misfortune
and respect for nothing
but their own wealth 
           of deception
to breeze through
tall golden doors 
to an unbroken string
of shiny bright todays 
and tomorrows

to not have to 
     lunge for hope
     and
never grasp it
in all ways 
and forever
just out of 
reach
© Barry Levy  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: disguising, anger, anxiety, violence,
Form: Verse

Mystery Girl

Our eyes meet, and the temperature is rising 
When we're standing so near, there's no disguising 
I don't know what to say, your a princess, I am clay

Yeah, opposites attract, I'm not even denying 
You've got ahold on me, without even trying 
This boy begins to pray, light up my life today

Sure you've got it all, but not so good at hiding 
Feel the chemistry, just let go and stop fighting 
I'm not going away, you body language says stay

I'm the oxygen in the air, your longing to be breathing
I see your smile, but in your heart there's a needing
Night explodes into day, when love can have its way

Hey sweet mystery girl, your beautiful face I'm reading
I think it's so very clear, your defenses I'm defeating
This dreamer's wish today, be free and fly away..

To me!

~Lyric Man

Note: They are opposites and she's so mysterious, but one thing this guy knows is chemistry.. and they have it!  This upbeat pop lyric is about two racing hearts.. One we all see and another only he can catch.
© Lyric Man  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: disguising, confidence, destiny, emotions, feelings,
Form: Lyric

When Darren Met Jan

Jan and Darren once met up in a local bar
Darren hoped his chat up lines would get him very far
Jan was not impressed and wouldn’t give him her address
His chat-up lines are dreadful I really must confess

Darren refuses to heed the warning 
Would you like toast for breakfast in the morning
Honestly Jan things are not as bad as they seem
You've seen me before, I'm the man of your dreams.

Oh I know Darren and you’re so good looking
A devil in the bedroom and you also love cooking
But I prefer to have my eggs unfertilised
Don’t look at me like that with your big brown eyes

I can see myself in your beautiful green eyes
I do horoscopes, Aha you found that a surprise
What the stars are telling me there is no disguising
When you sit on my lap, That's not Jupiter rising 

Oh be careful Mr Watston!  Will you behave!
If I sit on your lap I'll be in an early grave
You've always known I'm happily married
But in your dreams your thoughts can be carried

You forget I know your husband Bob 
He's taking me to the TT if I do a good job
I'm to flirt and joke and laugh and tease
Until you beg for mercy and say pretty please 
 
Oh Darren Watson you’re a terrible flirt
You eye up anyone in a mini skirt
And as for tightly fitted jeans
These things I guess you see in your dreams

I admit I've got a roving eye
I know you're into swinging so thought I'd try 
Yes I know Bob will love you forever
But he promised us guys must stick together.

Your chat up lines are wearing thin
I’m not really after a night of sin
We truly are the best of friends
I hope our collaboration never ends

Ending our collaboration never entered my head 
In the poems we write I can get you in bed
You are beautiful, sassy and have a great sense of fun
With wonderful legs and a fabulous bum.

20th May 2014
Written by Jan Allison & Darren Watson
Categories: disguising, friendship, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

Here, As the Dark City Glistens

Here, as the dark city glistens 

Here, as the dark city glistens,
rain pelts unsuspecting sidewalks,
filling cracks and running gutters
Disguising stoic potholes in black,
snickering as they wait silently
to startle the next drowsy driver to pass by

Neon reflects in puddles of discontent
while high rise lights
flicker in kitchens above where 
cold water seems to be the answer
as groggy eyes fiddle with leftover decisions
making more noise than can be heard

3 am, desolate, just a few cats
rummage in alleys for unsuspecting rats
and other rodents who have sold their dreams
for a temporary high, plastic bag desires
that come morning will seek its revenge
and hands will be out promising redemption,
counting brown leather wing tips and Prada heels

I stop at the old library slated for demolition,
tracing the lopsided heart with our initials
I carved into the brick
as you kept a look out so we wouldn’t get caught
Laughing at the dust that gathered on my shoes,
Telling me it would be forever 
not the dust, us, we weren’t

Lonely is a state of mind
for those who wander these concrete caverns,
unable to sleep
Finding opened eyed nightmares
resemble those that they now run from,
hoping the next corner holds the key
to the past when nights were spent
under warm covers, in soft arms,
not walking alone, not dying, not
here, as the dark city glistens
Categories: disguising, loneliness, sad,
Form: Free verse

The Syballine

"The Syballine"



Behind closed eyelids
the curtains of the mind
open to silent applause
Sun screens are slick and applied 
shining bright Ultra Violet
a violent Light
all over a body
of work, unseen
words written 
tattooed black
on smooth satin alabaster
beneath piercing opalescent lasers 
frosty green
burning the tithed pages 
of a rosy crucifixion
cast aside, palms raised
and speaking in secret tongues 
whispering necromantic Psalms 
fed open-handed to wailing seabirds
carrying songs of majesty
slow winged, powerful and heavy
towards a pregnant 
waxing beguiling witches'
Black Sabbath moon
this doesn’t stop the burn 
bare legs stretch open
a story being born 
and somewhere 
magnetised 
nude feet 
walk towards 
the naked 
Syballine
standing still
within the shallow 
fire opal ocean
arms lifting
conjuring new powers
not humble,
in fierce supplication 
raised upwards
now to pearly clouds
there beneath the 
Too Soon,
a dawning golden orb,
stands Blue Sky
holding the Sun
her back 
is turned 
see the spine
fine boned
joints like a ladder
your fingers
like lightening
trace their course
silky seduction
they play her 
tight strung
held in your arms
caressed like a cello
bow steaming
her keys turned
ignition
forgotten kisses
carried on the 
slender shoulders
of life -
now see 
the Sun rising
lips ripe
heart bleeding 
black wings unfolding
fallen, no longer disguising
she turns

Journeying from the Deep
Expelled from the shallows

(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)






"And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky"


"And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light"














"Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine..."
Categories: disguising, angel, dark, light, romance,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Who Do You Think I Am

broken people-
for in the end    we are all broken
stumbling and choking
disguising hurt

thinker    poet    storyteller
Richard Lamoureux

a deep insight into
suffering and life
the homeless and the outcast
with compassion

no matter creed color rich or poor

seeing
beneath the surface to the soul
thinker    poet    storyteller
makes us stop and ponder our life

in his own words
  GOD is a source of 
all our creativity
we are radios
   of a sort
      and if we
         tune in
    to the right channel
we can access the message

his poems   well expressed  powerful
thinker
poet
storyteller

fights
against    racism
he has a message to tell
GOD is good
in poetry
tough themes   broken lifes
straight from     the heart

be yourself
write with depth
be unique and genuine
capture life
he inspires us to write

and in the end
                  we are all broken
                                           people
stumbling
and choking and disguising
                      our hurts            Richard 
thanks for the compassion
with which
                your share your thoughts with us

___________________________
September 2, 2015


Free Verse

Inspiration - Broken People written by Richard Lamoureux
and the line - for in the end we are all broken stumbling and choking disguising hurt

For the contest, Who Do You Think I Am, sponsor, Richard Lamoureux

First Place
Categories: disguising, poetry, tribute, writing,
Form: Free verse
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