I woke up one morning
and what did I see
a face in the mirror which wasn't me,
my nose was a ski slope
as long as a piece of rope,
staring back at me were scary bulging eyes
big and round as pizza pies,
a thick torso with arms heavy and plump
looking strong enough to haul boxes at the dump,
all balanced on two legs built like piano stools,
strong enough to carry a couple of mules,
a tummy as round as Santa's belly,
each time I moved it swished like jelly,
to my surprise the alarm rang loud and clear,
making me jump up in dreaded fear,
quickly I looked at my cracked mirror
glad to discover my image was clearer,
I no longer was a grotesque figure in a nightmare,
thank goodness my looks are normal and fair.
February 24, 2017. 19 lines.
September 11, 2016
Body words used: face, nose, eyes, torso, arms, legs
I am tastefully distraught,
Slanted with a poor posture.
A lonely...grotesque figure.
I am bold, not in confidence,
But in my flaws...with a beautiful mind.
My austere soul screams
Buried thoughts put to pen
Describe...the battered life I lived,
From the perspective of a genius.
My graphic appearance terrifies
But the beauty of my words balance,
With tortured and unique imagery.
My blemished existence,
Serves a higher purpose.
My smudged exterior...captured,
For the world to see and know.
I am the blurred dream
That became a reality,
Through the medium of art.
I am the disfigured face,
That served as a muse.
So often imagined, sketched, and painted
By the hands...of Francis Bacon!
I am a poet...
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Inspired by Francis Bacon's work