Best Exfoliate Poems
(Dedication: For Regina Riddle)
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Tree caterpillar crawling
Strong windy debris;
Blown over the bough
~~~~~~~~~
Violet blossoms
Vine decorations dancing;
Sun and breeze move
~~~~~~~~~
Joy wears a face:
Your smiles highlight;
Dazzle of morning
~~~~~~~~~
Hasty scribblings
Poetry in motion;
Grassy blooms unnoticed
~~~~~~~~~
Rose garden memories
Touch of rapture;
Thorny issues exfoliate
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet yellow guava
Pleasant tasty treat;
Oxford Road townhouse
~~~~~~~~~
This old Jasmine tree
Fondly remembers;
Our rowdy flower picking
~~~~~~~~~
Joy wears a face
Nature reveals seasons;
Change comes to all
~~~~~~~~~
Look to strange change
To re-jig feelings;
Afternoon rain respite
~~~~~~~~~
Be of good cheer
Bear with bad weather;
Dance with danger
~~~~~~~~~
Mid-autumn frolic
Peace in kind harvest;
Moon cakes and moonlight
~~~~~~~~~
Ghosts of lovers past
Touch of fond rapture;
Breezy plumeria garden
~~~~~~~~~
Voice in the wind
Fragrant with rain;
Black clouds threaten
~~~~~~~~~
Evening stroll
Hand-in-hand;
Plumeria flowers preside
~~~~~~~~~
So much to discern
Harmony trees here;
Gardens By The Bay
~~~~~~~~~
Evening serenade
Cicadas and frogs;
Sounds at nightfall
~~~~~~~~~
Orchard Boulevard stroll
Sense surrounds;
Fragrant touch sifting
~~~~~~~~~
Two yellow butterflies
Fluttering between shrubs;
Sky Bridge tower above
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku surprise
Or senryu moment;
Experience reveals
~~~~~~~~~
Observe dear heart
What nature shows;
See things clearly
~~~~~~~~~
Frangipani tree
Crimson and red flowers;
Walkway perfumery
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 August 2014
Singapore
Categories:
exfoliate, blessing,
Form:
Haiku
Autumn afterglow
Amazed at autumn's splendour
maple leaves rest in grandeur,
It's a stunning morning twilight
compliments the garden vividly bright,
Yellow and brown, winds sway
Crushing sound of crispy walkway,
I sit on bench after brisk walk
as friends gather for little talk,
Gracefully the preceding exfoliate
so abreast the boscage rejuvenate,
Green mellowed into colours of fall
Picturesque beauty takes the stall,
Outsets in daylight saving tempo,
Mesmerising autumn afterglow.
Written Nov 6, 2018
Sponsor- Kim Rodrigues
Categories:
exfoliate, beautiful, blessing, day,
Form:
Rhyme
Prayer to Carry Me
Lord, help me to exfoliate
From the skins within sin
Rid me of my sins
And give them to the dead sea
Without you, I’m not the same me
I’m someone different, but not so “originique”
I gotta be “originique”,
Cause that’s how you created me
If I stray away, I’m just insane
And the thought of losing my sanity
Is enough to make the world go crazy.
Trust and believe, it’s not what they want to see
Lord, you know it gets ugly
So I ask you to protect me
To guide me and lead me in the right direction
So when I step foot in the door
There’s never an objection
And you’re my only obsession
I’ll never have to “want” for anything
As long as you’re surrounding me
So I’ll walk in your footsteps
As you carry me through these rocky mountains
And cool-calming seas
By: Aleasha A. Martin
Categories:
exfoliate, faith, hope, inspirational, lifeme,
Form:
Rhyme
No reason to concoct clever and corrupt schemes to make me see you.
I watch you anyway.
Do not go to extremes that exfoliate the energy that you conceive.
I already believe in you.
Please, do not plot panic ploys to penetrate the world's persistence against you.
You have the distance to overcome it all.
No need to destroy yourself or future so someone can feel your pain when
some of us already do.
It is pointless to define your determination as unsuccessful when you were the sperm that made it.
Speaks for itself.
You are beautifully made, with details that no one else has or will possess beyond imagination,
So suicide would be not only ridding the world of a gift but
yourself of it,
so please...allow your light to shine,
it could never do so without some shades of darkness.
Categories:
exfoliate, depression, life, loss, recovery
Form:
Free verse
Should I buy you a novel perfume?
Woody and mysteriously macho
Then choke on its lingering fumes
Ceaselessly, my sneezes will echo
Should I bake you a cake?
Recipe? Sugar, flour, vanilla, raisins?
My weary head starts to ache
Pondering on the ledge of kitchen basin
Should I exfoliate, prune and preen?
In an attempt to turn back the clocks
Brush and tease my hair to sheen
But wont' fallen strands stick to your socks
Guess, I won’t try anything special on Valentine
Shrug it off and retire soon as the clock strikes nine
Written on:01/30/2017
Categories:
exfoliate, humor, valentines day,
Form:
Sonnet
The effervescent glow my smitten eyes ingratiate
The duplicitous shadow your intentions obfuscate
The sparkling twinkle my collateral dreams exfoliate
The superficial glare my residual doubts accentuate
A momentary blink doth my pensive libido inflate
Subsequent roll of your eyes, my fantasies obliterate
An inquisitive glance; a silted pathway doth emanate
Your squinting eyes doth the conduit adumbrate
Satin, silky folds a pure stream elucidates
Dark, grainy cavities; a briny well percolates
Deep, iris blue waves; my horizon illuminates
Pulses of green light skew my compass coordinates
Categories:
exfoliate, beauty,
Form:
Couplet
What you feed will surely grow
Take it from someone who truly knows
Too bad you can’t exfoliate your insides with some microdermabrasion
That kills all your pride
Stripping away the degenerate mindset that so often tries to hide
Too bad you can’t take foaming cleanser and remove the impurities from your soul
So many are worried about the external but that will never make you whole
There is no baking soda or deep pore treatment that can wash away your sins
Nothing of this world can detox you from the poison that dwells within
There are no feminine cleaning wipes that can wash away the filth of your former days
Only heavens rain can lead you out of that twisted cycle, and maze
What you feed will surely grow
Take it from someone who truly knows
This is not a theory or a planned-out petition
It’s a willing act of daily submission
We all surrender to something
Why not let it be truth
There are no quick results, life is not a photo booth
What you feed will surly grow
Take it from someone who truly knows
For every word plants a seed
And every seed yields a crop
And if you want to end up at the top
There are some things that you must stop!
your type of fertilizer matters when its your garden that needs nutrition
All those weeds eventually will kill off all of your ambition
Everything needs care
Or eventually won’t be there
Everything needs healing or the thief will keep on stealing
Everything needs water
To keep life in its proper order
And everything needs you
To fight
for things to be brand new.
By: Sabina Nicole
Categories:
exfoliate, identity, life, vanity, voice,
Form:
Rhyme
i want you to know,
my body is your blank canvas
paint me with the manicured strokes of your brush,
bathe me in the lipstick red of your infinite touch
exfoliate my highly charged tactile robe of flesh
hold me!
my mind is your barren field to seed,
fertilize my soil with your green thumb
water my crop deep to my roots
let my stalk grow tall and strong
feed me!
my spirit is your glass to shape,
heat my crystal under a hot blue flame
melt me down to blend into you as one
blow us under the fire a goblet for one
drink until we stagger sweet, drunk in lust
consume me!
Categories:
exfoliate, love, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Unsolicited, revered, and praised
potential literary fete,
(yes a bit hyperbolic),
sans mine posted poems that perambulate
such feedback, whither donning trumped
("FAKE") facade, Oriel sincere
twittering, nonetheless tis great
for an ego striving to maintain
hum bull modesty, yet I hate
to be misperceived as
arrogant, boastful, pretentious,...wait
et cetera, cuz honestly,
these conglomerations create,
themselves, via some inexplicable
literary process which generate
prestidigitation soon after
affixing wired thinking cap,
whereby positioned electrodes exfoliate
on scalp yup thence, off miniature oblate
spheroid (suddenly barren) of golden locks
most soup Priam wantonly depilate
(envision candidate
undergoing biofeedback,
or...captured as bait)
by...yea (of course) alien invaders curious
to experiment, and subject a random pate
with out of this world tests that agitate
most precious anatomical accouterment
'bout size of average poe tate
toe (actually...almost same consistency)
okay...sorry, this chap doth relate
such comparison to
his own cerebral aggregate,
where he starkly realizes
neurological concentrate
takes a permanent vacation
to distant Palatinate
essentially leaving a void, ah...just
perfect for cosmic outliers to allocate
(no...no...no noninvasive, i.e.)
their laser like gizmos scrutinize how
(albeit unwittingly) to ameliorate
writer's block, thus
glad tubby ("Guinea Pig"),
and let abductors amputate
my killed expense trumped ("FAKE")
noggin pulp struggling to articulate,
(hence quite a relief,
you cannot imagine), dear mate
when fiber optic threads of light
essentially painlessly
(rather ticklishly aspirate)
clump of useless gray matter,
yours truly does implicate
as complicit to cause unnecessary
difficulty to associate
with *****sapiens, an extremely
strenuous task, thence joyful to dedicate
(without being headstrong),
an organ minimally missed at any rate
long last free to babble poppycock
oblivious as ambitious readers berate!
Categories:
exfoliate, birth, celebration, devotion, encouraging,
Form:
Free verse
Age 10 slough. Age twenty slough.
Age thirty slough.
Age forty and fifty slough
and so on.
Age sixty was a mighty shedding,
the polished scales
rattling in the very teeth of death.
Wriggling skins, some actual skins,
much metaphorical molt,
ephemeral epithelial layers of self.
Shadow buzzards;
those gormandizing birds
that exfoliate entropy,
they that aid the slip-sliding away
of all pivotal and transitional days,
they now sing my late peeling songs.
Enough. Basta!
This year my skin is stuck to word-bones
and only a starving raptor
could peck away this pelt and sheathing,
and not yet
not while I still have skin in the game.
Categories:
exfoliate, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
It's buried deep inside me
Feels like know one will ever know,
This ache that starts in my toes,
I'd scream with all my might,
All you'd hear are the echoes
I may smile,
Day by day
Better to be the eagle in the sun
Than drown like a chicken in rain
I thank the above
For pen and paper
Allows me to drain my well
Maybe help someone exfoliate their shell
Categories:
exfoliate, art, growing up, health,
Form:
Rhyme
Obviated by passion
I could as much apply each person
Exfoliate my heart.
Such tormented fragments
Seeking reconciliation therein,
Where all refrains come subject to warm
And, as my oath prescribes, I first
Must “do no harm”
Each valiant doll’s cartoon
A variance, but
Only tall in child’s retrospect.
Murderous and hideous disguised,
As in each man is set a plague of vacuums,
A cornerstone set within each soul
And from which each will build their life
Of hesitated futures.
Frames of frosted flames;
Each sliver silvered by a touch of light,
Each prayer cast into foreboding night.
The surface of each die married to the eye
Of what is cast,
The only knee we will bend
Will end upon a concrete flooring
Without love; Then,
You will open your eyes again.
What is this, you will ask of each
And, to all, at last, it comes,
Grown with a vibrant moving,
We are stirred;
Having arrived as the prime
Ingredient of our life,
Tested and tasted,
By the fires of our making,
To step off
And claim our freedom
to be
Categories:
exfoliate, birth, change, destiny, encouraging,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I am always calling,
But never too loudly.
I may find you among winds,
Blotting out the sighs
Of the fearful,
But never may you know
The concept of what is endured
Through chemistry. Through
Dimensions among the drops
Between blood trails,
I exfoliate among branches
Growing out from the sides
Of mundane nature.
If a loved one falls
I ignite
To be pursued,
To be honored,
To be found
And to be destroyed,
But if I turn my back toward agony
I may find the correct procedure
To carry out useful plans,
Infinitely. Even if
It kills me, I will
Find my valor.
Categories:
exfoliate, dedicationmay,
Form:
Free verse
The Paint Movers.
The old boat sits in the dry dock. Layers of shabby paint covering the vessel. The boat wears a mask of magnanimity, like a woman about to apply a mud pack.
The old boat has a date with the cosmetic warrior's, who come clothed like space-men, in white overalls, rubber gloves, and goggles. She is being undressed, they delete the surface layers of residue.
Exfoliate, her with solvent, attack her with the tools of their trade. Caustic scumble her hull. The old boat is being cleansed with a formula, scrubbed like a dirty step. The cosmetic space-men reveal her clean skin.
The face mask has worked, the cosmetic warriors claim their victory. They hop about as if doing a moon walk. The years of wear and tear have gone. The old boat has a new lease of life.
Anthony Slausen
5/10/2018.
Categories:
exfoliate, boat, space,
Form:
Free verse
Hence, I plunge into imagination to encumber suffering,
Athwart are the horizons wider than my pride,
I, one but three, such a symbolic trope, the Trinity,
A gorgeous exaltation gorged into voracity, itself.
The good is near me! The evil - inside of me!
The principles of distortion underlay the phenomena
Of eternal agony, above and beyond embers of Inferno.
I command the creation of the tenth circle, beyond
Boiling rivers of blood and fire, beyond the frozen lakes,
It’s the core of gravity, the centre of an inescapable certainty,
It’s darker than darkness, blacker than blindness,
It’s dwelling at the bottom of a raven’s gut – and I call it – hope.
Have none! Do not wear livery. Do not submit to a judge,
Nor allow a bailiff to cross your path in the legacy of the flames.
On the wings of poetry far from perishing Evil, all the way to
The dawns of assorted cognizance that whirligigs the itch in me,
I exfoliate the words by setting the residuum of thoughts, in line
With the divinity of soul, that presides in my inner world, unknown
to the world.
A cipher on the head – I cannot be bought as I am not selling
The spiritual cosmology of my imagination, even when it’s ebbing,
No treatise of compromise is saccharine I crave, as I confer
A profane sense in the heathen parish of myself, for myself.
Hence, I plunge into imagination…
Categories:
exfoliate, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse