Best Perfectionism Poems
Perfection, is an evil lord
demanding ever greater tribute,
it wields a sharp and heavy sword
that pierces deep to persecute
I fear this liege, this graven image
there's no resistance to his wants;
no will, nor the amount of courage
can protect me from his evil taunts
Forgiveness, I may grant to all,
no act's too grave or sin's too much
and yet, no matter however small,
I dare not grant myself as such
Idealized, I must not fail
this thought's so manifestly flawed;
and yet, it does but so assail
my heart, my mind... my God
Ideas
thoughts
potential
scattered and unrelated
until
A twist
a turn
a perfect form,
balanced.
Yet it cannot be sustained
competing forces
expectations
The pattern dissolves
as it is compelled to turn
away
from itself.
Exciting ideas
moving apart and at the same time
together.
A new shape forms,
for a moment.
Never ending movements
interspersed with
originality.
Calm but
fragile
as the slightest
pull
threatens its very existence
Ideas
passions
possibilities
contained within a shell.
A veneer of strength
protecting it,
from itself.
To the observer
an impression of self-containment
control
success.
Yet for those who dare peer
Through the pinhole,
insight.
Will the kaleidoscope
ever rest
satisfied with its
own creation?
A child –
An accomplished art
Of perfectionism…touch of love
By you and me
The more I let go of
these tiresome soul struggles,
the should haves,
the should bes,
the more it is possible,
to be messy and
alive.
I'm dissapointed
not in you or my cryptic creeky teacher
but myself
Every action I make cripples me further and further
into this dark whole that sucks me in like quicksand and my only
little bit of sanity is closing my eyes and forgetting its there
You can't forget your problems they are everywhere thriving surviving
night and day morning and evening
They don't sleep
They survive because we feed them thoughts
our thoughts are the mana of our inner demons
The more we give them, the more power they obtain
You know you will never be enough but you know that already
It's the dream and opportunity to be more than yourself
to be what you think your damn parents wanted you to be well
I have news for you and my ignorant self
They want you to be happy and sucessful
not the framework of a fake Van Gogh
It doesn't matter what they used to tell you
or subtly enforce
You are yourself
and have a solid course.
Perfectionism is overated
Saying words and meaning them are two different things
every lyrical lumpy line isn't immaculate but
poetry is the mode of freedom that has no goal
The objective is completion and changing lives through black ink
like seeping into their soul and gifting them with another side of
a mirror mounted to a wall.
To compensate for (A -Z)
ineradicable alphanumeric
character flaws (i.e. mutations
of body or mind,)
and avoid amass
sing wracking up vexatiously
undesirable threatening class
action lawsuit against
Matthew Scott Harris,
which preliminary measure
taken to avoid disembarrass
sing said individual as
a majorly flawed individual
literal shortcomings of body,
mind and spirit,
the metier of writing doth encompass
a creative realm to trump
geomorphology, sans groundmass
at the unsolicited expense
(mine alter ego i.e. worst critic)
will gleefully find,
and expose grammatical,
misspelling, spelling,
et cetera errors to harass
glommed together with isinglass
hop, skip and jumping
to appear as a jackass
whereat no respect
able collegiate lass
would give a fig about me,
one totally tubular royal morass,
which expert anthropologists
stumped asper nonclass
if eye able Homo
sapiens mutant ninja turtle
case in point being his
wanting in height not e'en pass
sing the six foot mark
plus mental illness
perhaps traceable to
besotted cognitive damage
inherited predecessors
quaffing an overdose of quass
made obvious peering at resulting
Ct scan results viewed
via microscopic spyglass
revealing abnormal amygdala
automatically designating
his aptitude underclass
among average human
with mettlesome Zeusian brass.
The shades of “blues” might have an intense wavelength.
It literally overshadows her “colorful seasons”.
This school champion might already realize this.
Games are not that easy in this "normal world."
An imperfect design never fits into the Fine System.
It never fails to tell her how bad she is in this.
It might be her first criticism.
She push herself hard, in this race of Infinite Perfection.
Sometimes running, chasing, breaking.
Even pleading never going to works.
It's not that easy. Right?
The more intense she gets, the more she sags and breaks.
but she is still too imperfect to get pity on her.
What she tries to do?
does she collect the shattered pieces?
that was over-walked by many without even noticing.
What… sudden gray shades in the weather?
ooh….! I think rain is going to come.
It is one of an intense, heavy rain.
Why does she still crawl over there?
Wait.. what shading her?
Is that wings, that she folded before leaving school?
Wow…! It's almost rusted, what red shades on it ?
Oh, my god, I think we caught.
Hi...…! "May I fly again?"
I wish I wouldn't try to be perfect
When I know it can never come to fruition
Perhaps I do it for the self respect
Maybe I do it for the recognition
Always I try to keep it all correct
Always I fail, and let it fall away
I wish I wouldn't try to be perfect
I wish I wouldn't try to be perfect
heart of compassion, stifled by rejection
concealed with conscientious imperfections
marvel mind mortified by man made mistakes
confined in constraint, no mental escape
flunking society's supposed expectancy,
failing oneself, free-falling inwardly
sparkles in eyes subsided, light subdued
flame flickers restrained by winded worries' mood
foreboding face, faded flat with fatigue
harness of helplessness, harrowing grief
sandbag shoulders, sullen with unbounded burden
unknown, none come close, to help the hurting
9/9/2023
Your beautifully bright like a summers day
the joy you bring makes me float away
into the clouds which bring the rain
in your violence and rage
you cause chaos and pain
the day becomes grey and i patiently await
the validation of your soothing rays.
I skipped my knitting group two weeks ago
alas, I had zero progress to show.............
But I explained (it did fascinate her)
knowing I'm a big procrastinator ;-)
So many ways to say one thing
More than one way to turn pawn to king
Too many turns to the grocery store
Which turn shall I take?
Countless words to choose from
From sunrise to sunset
Too many ends to be met
With no end
So many ways to say one thing
How will I say this?
The paralysis of perfection pours
A whisper at first
Drown out by the delusion of desirability
Preserved in acid proclamations of praise
Beating echoes in snowy peaks
Peaking in phrases veiled in value
Pouring
Heavy
Heavy
Heavy
On the mountaintop
Failure
Failure
Failure
One weakened layer causing seismic shifts
Elephant echoes fragmenting snowy ideals
Triggering avalanches of lost identity
Slabs of fallen promises break loose
Forming a track of forbidden truth
Too much weight bids perilous
Useless words of compliment
Descend to a suffocating
Ignominious demise
Plagued by tiny
Thoughts of
Fading
Perf
ect
io
n
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
perfection
is no cathedral~
only the ghost
that haunts its stones
The traitor
seized fond dreams
and rent my soul
on a hurdle of nails
hauling innocence
toward sour odours;
the steel nemesis
christened cosmetic
under searing light
and coerced oblivion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The needle slips beneath the silk again~
perfection demands no frayed edge, no trembling stitch.
Each thread pulled taut as a guillotine wire,
each knot a universe compressed to flawless geometry.
This blessing: the tapestry shimmers like captured moonlight.
This curse: the blood on the thimble, the hour lost to a single imperceptible flaw.
Creation gleams, a frozen star in the palm.
Yet the hand aches for the wild, uneven bloom of something alive.