Color me red
And blunt my bangs
Obscure my brows
And shield them from the sun
Replicate your enigma
Polished and shined
A mirror to your soul
Twin pools of gray
With a hint of blue
That's ever growing wider
What is it you see
When you meet your gaze?
Please hold me tight
Enough to leave your mark
Pink crescent moons
Dyeing my shoulders
Serving as your earthbound tether
What was it you saw
When you met your gaze?
Have you lost your place
Among the stars
My Full Moon Queen
My Full Moon Queen?
Your abdicated throne
Gleams pitch-black here
My Full Moon Queen
My Full Moon Queen.
When I see an artist cry
for not winning a Grammy,
I wonder—being a nominee would be a dream.
Oh, to even appear on television,
millions rooting, fans screaming—
is that less than winning a Grammy?
It's painful not to get what you deserve.
Losing is hard, all that pain we've heard.
But wasn't the journey mesmerizing?
To release songs, a massive crowd getting that feeling.
To be able to leave your mark,
getting recognized worldwide,
your spot had a thousand eyes.
But still, claiming that seat,
is that less than winning a Grammy?
How can one possibly feel less worthy
when being a nominee made you win?
You have true people still loving you.
Is that feeling less than winning a Grammy?
Oh dear, it's a pleasure for them to invite you.
The room was filled with ethereal beauty.
Your presence brought our televisions to life.
"I didn't win."
Rubbish!
In our eyes, you did.
When your birth was an honor for this world,
how important is it to win a Grammy?
We’re all just stories in motion, full of metaphors and simile and poetic notions but when the likes feel like love then the love feels like work, but you never put it in now somebody’s getting hurt that’s a lesson, but you can turn the page that’s a blessin’, release your new edition let the world feel your essence. When you can’t figure out what your story has in store but you know it’s never ending so you always plotting more it’s time to edit, some pages gon fold you gotta let it cause if your story stays the same you eventually regret it we know life is just a gamble to pick your prize you gotta bet it. Set it, leave your mark make sure they don’t forget it, don’t let it, break your heart if they don’t seem to get it that’s your vision plot a course and execute precision if they won’t get out your way make your entry a collision then incision, your path to your goals on a mission, to grow to where you never introduce yourself again cause when you enter any venue, they already know your name, that’s fame.
“We are all here on Earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for, I don’t know.” - W. H. Auden
Everyone wants to be a comedian,
some are better at it than others.
The many types of humour range
from dark & bitter to kind & thought-provoking.
Sometimes there's room for interpretation
where depth of meaning can be found.
Society being an endless source of inspiration,
we won't run out of material any time soon.
Try to find it in your heart to somehow leave your mark
and contribute in positive ways to this world
that is not as tough as it appears to be ~
below the surface it hurts and in much need of healing.
AP: 3rd place 2025
Jalapeños popped
with that french kiss;
You may just have the heat
to handle me;
Careful, dynamite explodes with a
single spark.
Savor spicy slowly…
Blood and lust;
Your villainous eyes so vermilion,
possessing the vile light of the macabre.
Ignite me leave your mark,
devour my divergence;
Together we’re fireworks..
Viral infection,
swallow spectacular slowly…
Blood and lust;
So succulent the film of me
erupting all over your taste buds;
estrogen and endorphins,
testosterone and dopamine;
Carolina reaper’s bass line,
we just raised the bar;
set to scald each others mouth..
A spectacular flow,
blood and lust.
Every little word,
It used to attract me like honeysuckle in a mid-summers bloom.
The nectar that dripped from the flower smelt sweet, the beautiful yellow pollen that left a trace on everything it touched.
Every. Little. Word.
As the seasons changed,
I got used to you finding a new place to bloom and leave your mark there,
I'm fine sharing I think you're too beautiful not to share.
I always knew where to find you, near the smell of honeysuckle and sweet nectar.
After a while I found a new flower, one that caught my eye.
You didn't like that very much.
Your sweet scent captivated me, drawing me in closer.
I land closer to you only to realize you're no longer the sweet Honeysuckle I once knew.
Your mouth closes keeping me near,
you were so scared of losing me you drew me in with your sweet scent that now felt like poison beneath my skin,
your nectar is no longer sweet but rather bitter as it swallows me.
Your once yellow pollen turns to ash, no longer leaving that beautiful yellow trail,
but a trail of the remains of what you've stolen from me,
If you want people to remember you- leave your mark
Life isn't personal, it's a journey we all walk,
Stand strong, stand tall, face whatever lies ahead.
Make a difference, leave your mark upon the earth,
For when oblivion comes, what's left is our worth.
No one is ready for the final curtain,
No one is perfect, imperfection is for all.
Yet in our flaws, we find we are human,
Guiding us through darkness, into the light.
So let us embrace the chaos, the joy, the pain,
Knowing that in this life, nothing is in vain.
Alive
What does it mean to be alive?
An explorer or part of the hive?
These many years ,, oh the perspective
Definitely not matching the collective
What does it take to leave your mark?
On the tree of life it's just bark!
I can feel the ghosts of your handprints on my body
Like scars that don’t hurt anymore but once did.
No one else can see them,
But I’ll always know they were there.
You didn't ask if you could leave your mark on me,
But before I could stop you,
You did.
You will never know
what it’s like for shadows
to loom over your body
Suffocating its innocence.
You will never know what it’s like to feel as if
Beneath your skin, you are made of glass
Breakable at any instance
But I do hope that one day,
Someone takes something as important from you
As you did from me
The colorful sky
Clouds, sunsets, rainbows, stars, moon…
Creation is Art!
There are patterns, Shapes,
textures, colors, sounds, flavors…
Creation is Art!
Faces, bodies, smells
eyes, Finger prints, color skins…
Creation is Art!
Dance, sing, write, Paint, carve,
play, inspire others, cook, work…
Creation is Art!
Leave your mark
We are a part of it
Creation is Art!
All these expressions
Of God’s Soul Everywhere
Creation is Art!
My heart is made of clay left in the cold,
Knead me, please.
Show me how to pump blood again.
Remind me of my days under the earth,
Held pliant and warm.
Make me something better with your gentle shaping fingers,
And leave your mark.
Whether Politics or Personal
By Franklin Price
10/29/2018
Whether Politically or Personally
You are who you appear
Who you are from day to day
Election time or year to year
How you socialize with others
Should be who you are alone
Who you are on Facebook
The same as on the telephone
To blame it on another
Is to lie within your mind
They are not you, and you not them
I hope that you will find
If you desire to be yourself
Not as the many all around
You may choose to climb the mountain
Or remain on lower ground
If you're not up for office
Don't act as those who are
Vote how your conscience tells you
Leave your mark and not a scar
Rapa Nui Warriors stand bright and tall and stark
Monolithic dynasties enshrined in all our hearts
But what if I told you, til death doth do us part
Santa's elves could fill the shelves,
Yet you'd still leave your mark
Rapa Nui Warriors croon and beg and steal
Overarching humanity, like we're their final meal
A menacing divinity, one revolutionary zeal
Here is pen and paper, please sign our Satanic deal
But what of a winter, a bubbling brook
The heaviest of moai, all misshapen and shook
Where in the Kabbalah, the Qu'ran, the Lord's Good Book
Are we braced from E4 to E10,
Like the Man's unholy rook
In fraudulent suspense, here we sit idling
An educated mass, a society found sidling
Disgruntled, divine, cultured and crass
Insufficiently aerated, just like Mama Cass
Rapa Nui Warriors slouch meek and proud and mild
Seemingly inconspicuous, like the wild in a child
Innate maliciousness, see the expulsion of the Yids
For all will seem serene, until you're the final bid
Consider I am just a man and of declining years,
And one of hundreds you will know though life's a veil of tears!
In love, you reap what you have sown, just one page in a book,
Investments always post a gain, no matter how they look.
Look! No return's still lesson gained, a clear notch on one's belt,
And failures never matter much, though loss quite keenly felt!
Real friendship tattooed on your soul! Real joy escapes the grave;
A gift you share is always yours, though you may be a slave.
So, leave your mark on all you touch, largess is never stain,
What those you aid get from your help should never be your pain!
Don't be a victim of intent; a gift deserves no rent,
Or rush to judge the ones who fail if your aid gets misspent.
Long Tooth
May 15, 2018
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