Long Beauty is only skin deep Poems
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attract attention
attract and repel
repel the invader
repel mosquitoes
mosquitoes carry malaria
mosquitoes bite
bite the bullet
bite the hand that feeds
feeds on animosity
feeds on carrion
carry on your luggage
carrion eater
eater of flesh
eater of words
words to live by
words of wisdom
wisdom teeth
wisdom comes with age
age of aquarius
age before beauty
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
beauty is only skin deep
deep sea diving
deep six
six hundred threescore and six
six gun
gun collector
gun control
control yourself
control freak
freak out
freak show
show no emotion
show and tell
tell no tales
tell the truth
truth or consequences
truth or dare
dare to be dumb
dare to keep kids off drugs
drugs and drinking
drugs, sex and rock 'n roll
roll out the barrel
roll over beethoven
beethoven ludwig van
beethoven's fifth
fifth amendment
fifth of whiskey
whiskey
amendment
Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips
If beauty is only skin deep as they say
Into your body I would find a way.
I would pull out the beauties that
you have locked up inside
Beauties that you try to hide.
You would be the bread and I would be the jam
And I would cover you every way I can.
I would be on you like white on rice
And do everything nasty, but nice.
I would love you from the bottom
of your feet to the top of your head
You’d be so worn out, you would think
That you was dead.
Lovemaking can be vulgar or as beautiful as can be
It will bring you to a point of ecstasy.
The excitement will make your body sweat
Better than that it can’t get.
Human lust- human desire
There is only one thing that
Can put out this fire.
To fill that crave- to fill that need
Until you drop that little seed.
And when that happens a child is conceived.
A child is born because of this desire
And then it ignites another fire.
A fire to protect this child so rare
Now that you have it with someone to share.
"Oh King Charles Philip Arthur George,
how do I see thee?
Let me count the ways...
Tho' beauty is only skin deep,
and in the eye of the beholder,
or so we have been told,
yours is more, it goes to the bone,
a sore sight for eyes to behold,
now you have acceded to the throne.
As, like diarrhoea, it seems,
it runs in the genes,
and, if POTUS is President of the USA,
would you be he, KOTUK,
King Of The UK?"
'Surely you jest,' quoth he in dour reply.
Tho', not joking nor feeling surly,
"Some things you simply can't deny,
ours not to reason why," said I,
"and please don't call me Shirley!"
A kinder, more loving soul doesn't exist,
you're an Angel, sent from heaven above.
You captured my heart the first time we kissed,
and I immediately fell in love.
You saw in me what others could not see,
and encouraged me to believe in hope.
I was a puzzle with a missing piece,
and I needed that piece to complete me.
Before I met you, I could barely cope,
and at times, my soul yearned for its release.
I adore your contagious laugh, your smile,
your tender touch, and your passionate kiss.
As a living poem penned in freestyle,
you imbue life with happiness and bliss.
Poets say beauty is only skin deep,
but that is not true when it comes to you.
You possess a beautiful soul inside,
and it's enough to make a grown man weep.
Truth is your arrow, and your aim is true,
uplifting my spirit; you boost my pride.
Your love encourages my soul to soar:
to take wing like a fledgling bird, and fly.
You're everything I could ever wish for,
and my feelings for you will never die.
Our eternal souls were forged into one,
and were bonded by love since time began.
You are my soulmate, the yin to my yang,
my candle in the dark; bright as the sun.
Unleashing love as a part of God's plan,
love always comes back: like a boomerang.
Her face showed freshness of a fecund lea,
Inviting eyes lured me then to explore,
Her bosom conveyed warmth that was friendly,
Lighthouse-like beckoning to come ashore.
Each tiny cell of her anatomy,
Derided by the wise as mortal flesh,
And deemed Maya, if not an enemy,
Posed, why such rare beauty be scorched to ash.
Let all the wisdom warn of beauty’s blight,
I still in life’s splendid things would believe,
Let all keep philosophy’s vague delight,
I fall for beauty’s charm, let it deceive,
And love to kiss its lowly dust on death
To keep alive in loveliness my faith.
____________________
Sonnet | 01.04.2014, revised March 2025 |
Note: Beauty is only skin deep, and if one were to scrape a shade below (forget the sub atomic levels), the scene could be quite nauseating. Beware of beauty’s blight, old wisdom says. It is all illusive Maya. This sonnet nevertheless says: let me keep my illusion and faith in loveliness.
Ill-tempered Elfin Queen, would bully
and demean everyone she'd see
an unruly brat
nasty tricks thought daily that
when on her throne she sat sadly
She had to force her head in a sack
precaution she must engage to hold back
to gaze in a looking glass
so she could surpass
or the magical mirror would crack
Casting curses became her fame
enticing elf’s was her daily game
maidens that were shrouded
and barren were allowed
in her kingdom was her aim
But to her shocking surprise
all of their bellies begin to rise
the Elfin Queen was livid
she had been smarted
was blinded and they criticize
For she hadn’t for saw that right
when the sun goes down and the lights
go out humans are smart
love comes only from the heart
beauty is only skin deep, that brings sight
© 4/29/2015
From our youth, we have been taught that beauty is only skin deep;
and “It’s in the eyes of the beholder”, is what we like to teach.
Many a head has been turned, and our hearts have taken a leap.
It was breathtaking, as our captured hearts skipped a beat.
I absolutely understand this, and I do tend to agree.
Many were the working hours of driving through the marsh mellow wetlands.
I paused but could not stall as I took in the blessings of beauty in the Fall.
So pleasing and peacefully, the feathered fowls played, rested, and feasted.
So honored and privileged was I just to watch and breathe with the birds.
I have witnessed the carefree and feathered beauty of butterflies flying by.
Such artistic mixtures of colors often arrest and capture even this stoic guy.
And I’m reminded that such beauty was earned in a cocoon, and not given.
It was born out of strength and patience, and not made-up quickies.
Time was crucial, and the work was hard, as the moth long endured.
The butterfly has taught me that beauty develops in stages and unfolds over time. I must continue to learn to wait and dutifully labor through the hard times. Millions of the Monarch Butterflies spend their winters in Central Mexico. Come Spring, may I too, like butterflies, spread my wings and take flight.
12052015PS Contest: For Men Only( Would You, Could You) Write About Butterflies. 2nd contest entry 6/29/20, Butterflies And Marshes Mellow,
Kai Michael Neumann
She said I'm bored I think it's time I left
She hopped in her car, headed west
She left him waiting and wanting more
At least she's pretty
A shame she's a whore
I can't say I blame her
She has her own life to live
It's the girls like her
Who make it so hard to give
Nothing matters
But a notch in her bedpost
It's a race to the end
To see who can get the most
It's the bad girls who trick the good guys
Dress her up it's all a disguise
She's a wolf on the prowl
With her bedroom eyes
She's the ruse of the day
A savior she'll say
She's dolled herself up
Heads out for the night
She's looking to smear
Her nose cocaine white
It's the same places
Just different faces
There’s a thrill in the hunt for her
There’s a power hidden deep in her skirt
The mirrors will break
And her nose will bleed
It’ll splatter the ground
Coat her shaking hands
Beauty is only skin deep
It hurts most when it fades
I will be the narrator of this story-
it was a beautiful summer day
when I saw "him" standing there staring
(Oh, what's his name?)
well anyways- he was like a God in leather
my brother had brought home
and now he stood by his motorcycle smiling
at me- and I was struck with his beauty
and the drums of time ceased to move
(Oh, what's his name?)
love had come a guest quite unbidden
and I fluttered like a happy lamb
and the lion licked his lips-
all that summer we rode his bike into the sun
'till the last tint of day was gone
but he told me lies, lies, lies and lies
(Oh what's his name?)
and the lesson- that beauty is only skin deep.
___________________________
September 16, 2019
Poetry/Narrative/Oh, What's His Name
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1181-495-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, I'll Never Forget His/Her Name
sponsor, John Lawless
Eighth Place