Vanity, the latest trick
Standing there with your selfie stick
Clamping your mobile phone
For your egotistic picture clone
Lets take a close look at lady Lou
Which are the real parts of you
From top to bottom, seeking attentions
Beginning with your hair extensions
Which are the same colour as your hair
Although now chestnut once was fair
Beautiful eyes to attract boyfriends
That will be those contact lens
Eye lashes, long and slick
Eyebrows plucked or painted slick
Mascara, toner, eye shadow, lipstick
False beauty, that will do the trick
Padded bra, protruding breasts
Look at me, it all suggests
Finger nails long and sleek
Very perfect, very chic
Toe nails painted different shades
Glitter sprinkled of different grades
Your body sprayed California tan
That will help you get your man
What when he sees you in the nude
Thinking, this is not the girl I wooed
So cast away, the unreal you
You may find a love that’s true
Cast away that selfie stick
You will find true love, take your pick
she wore the most beautiful pearls
she
wore black
in the night
the times i saw
her. black pearls dancing,
singing song in her ears
and heart so radiant her
color to look. like black pupils
looking through purple tint contact lens,
refracting shine from sunny seas and shores.
connie pachecho
1/21/17
I can’t fathom how these can be ,
Suddenly one grows old,
Contact lens she uses to see,
Hair is no longer gold.
She used to walk on the beach sand
in summer afternoon,
Watching kids play with choir band,
Before sighting the moon.
Her smile --pretty and attractive,
Sends love vibes through men’s hearts,
Now sag cheeks ,very conducive!,
Teeth broken into parts.
During her time ,she likes to sing
to console many souls ,
but now voice travels like a swing
with deep filtering holes .
I know her well ;being part of me,
Soon I will grow like her ,
--though if my hair touches the knee ,
It will still change like hers .
Wrinkles on face ,sags on the eye ,
Body no more agile,
Unable to raise the legs high,
As bones are now fragile .
I can’t fathom how these can be ,
Suddenly one grows old,
Contact lens she uses to see,
Hair is no longer gold…
DATE:8-21-2016
CONTEST:"Which of the four would you choose" by Sara Kendrick .
Dear Dad, It has been couple of years since you died,
My contact lens would tell you how much I cried,
Time has no power to heal anything,
I miss you forever my dear king!
Your love and advice being my unsatisfied crave,
Why was I supposed to leave you all alone at the grave?
Your absence makes me feel like a bird that lacks a wing,
I miss you forever my dear king!
You were always ensuring my happiness in your every move,
I feel guilty for not repaying your unconditional love,
Whatever the future may bring,
I miss you forever my dear king !
Dear son, just like a buoyant sea wave,
Father-son relationship doesn't end at the grave,
I occupy your dreams to make you feel my presence,
I will be with you forever my dear prince!
Poised on the end of your finger tip, you open your eyelid wide,
it pops straight onto your iris and you barely even tried.
When it comes to removing it, it’s an entirely different ball game,
you gently try to slide it out and almost end up maimed.
Why is it something that is so thin, can feel like a brick,
and why can’t you find it when on your eyeball it did stick?
It can't be real, did I just see
That cute young girl just wink at me
I'm sure I must have seen it wrong
But just in case, I'll play along
I steal another furtive glance
Again I catch her eye by chance
She looked straight at me and that's when
I saw her wink at me again
With lush red lips and hair so blonde
I know somehow I must respond
Should I just return her wink
My hearts on fire, I've got to think
I look again and she's still there
Running her fingers through her hair
I'd love to know what she is thinking
All I know is she's still winking
I get up and walk toward her
The space between us just a blur
I greet her with “how do you do”?
She looks and says “do I know you”?
“We've never met I do not think”
I'm here because I saw you wink
I must admit to my surprise
I'll bet you have your pick of guys
She said “I think you misconstrued”
I wasn't winking at you dude
That isn't what this is about
You see, my contact lens fell out
There was an old man who stood at the sea bank
Watching two fishermen casting there nets out to the sea
As he pierced his eyes even further off shore, he saw a mermaid swim bye.
The mermaid stumble across the two fishermen casting their nets
While their waited, one fisherman said to the other can you see the mermaid
The fisherman replied 'No' and continued to cast his net out to the sea.
The mermaid acknowledging that she had been seen waved to the fishermen
The fisherman once again asked the other fisherman can you see the mermaid waving out at sea
The fisherman once again replied 'No' and continued to cast his net even further out .
As the mermaid drew nearer the fisherman once again asked the fisherman
Can you see the mermaid approaching the fisherman furiously replied,
'No' I can't see a damn thing, the sunlight is beaming down at me
I cast my damn contact lens out at sea.
Like a contact lens on a very nearsighted cornea
smoothes out the rough edges of sight,
We see a magnifying glass with reflections
of the past, broken and shattered
The center of a city with images and visions
of innocent lives lost
with a completed 168-piece puzzle destroyed
a devastating reality spreads darkness to many
we remember the pain and suffering of a
city in chaos on a normal day that
turned out to be everything but normal.
The thing about veneer is this:
It blinds to the truth,
Hides the real heart from sight
Whilst shining like topaz and gold.
The coating on a rotten tooth,
The glister on decaying wood,
The glaze on calorific cakes,
The healthy gleam in contact lens eyes.
The rosy sheen on those about to die of fever,
The cosmetic touch on week-old corpses,
The gloss of laughing lips superimposed on twisted rage,
The glow of fires on streams and rivers.
The thing about veneer is this:
It makes the real seem unreal,
Or the unreal seem real - whatever;
The sick seem well,
The evil seem good,
The mad seem sane
The abnormal seem, well, normal.
And the intrigue lies within
The way it is brushed on like a second skin,
So to reflect our pretend personas
To those who look upon us.
Whilst they do the same
To us who look upon them.
We all hide the madwoman in the attic,
But the question is:
Who has the maddest woman to hide?