Long Blemishes Poems
Long Blemishes Poems. Below are the most popular long Blemishes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blemishes poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm sorry for all the stupid things I've done
I guess I'll leave now before the break of dawn
You made me love you, but that didn't last too long
You belong with me or so I thought while writing this sad song
I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories
Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes
I'm alone again in my room of gloom
I suppose I'll try to be happy and like a flower in full bloom
You made me fall short, but I'll get up and be renewed once more
You wronged me and I did you wrong too - I don't know what for
I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories
Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes
I'm caught up in the current of my bottomless emotions
Guide me to a faraway place called Peaceful Splendor...guide me away from the many commotions
You pretend that you had nothing to do with me
I can see right through you as you can clearly see
I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories
Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes
I see you crystal clear in my shimmering vision
You handle me with such delicate precision
I'm under pressure and I don't know exactly what to say or do
I've been writing this down with a smile and a frown - that, I did so true
Guide me away from here...
Lead me away from fear...
Guide me with utmost cheer...
Happiness and hope will surely appear!
He watched his kite,her, snap
her tail rises
in the sky
in the deep blue sky
i keep imagining of her
my eyes don't rest and lie,
my mind's eye,
of her with a bird in hand,
the one she waved off …
that i dont imagine
i keep watching her tail
so majestic
and buoyant
... as if she were dancing,
dancing
with herself,
in the deep blue sky,
her carriage
model perfect
of blemishes
with the sun shining
off her inner beauty,
she would flutter
... flutter
to the right and left,
bounce, bounce
up and down
as i continue watching,
watching ...heartbroken
for the last time,
Of life passing by,
Her,
my eyes moisten
as she distances herself
away from me
the burdens of my life
Heartaches, heartaches that
always kept suppressed in me
i say, i wish i could have stopped her flight
and see her come alive
with me,
... me with
one fleeting chance
a chance
of a snowball of goodness for once
but hoping realistically
for just that one snowflake of a chance
one little snowflake that never dropped
... i keep watching
the once beautiful kite
so lifelike, vibrant
especially her tail and direction
up in the blue sky,
a small dot now
... sucking the air out of me
as it became smaller
• i reminiscence
of the past of how our love nosedived
into an avalanche
before it started
... nosediving into sorrow and regrets
the residual of a piece of string not tying
not tying a loop...
i keep looking up into the sky
my mind oscillating, correlating
i see, clearly
her inner beauty capturing me
even from a distance
and now how ... i'm resigned to watching
so sadden
life unravel,
how can this be
or is that the line ... unraveling
again, how can this be
... the kite kept
distancing itself
fluttering itself ...
further away ...
just like myself
... the wind howling
its sharp teeth of injustice, life
grabbing me
i guess
i guess i was bad, unworthy
For her
for i hear ...
voices in my head
the once little birds in her hand crying,
crying
for not finding warmth
i hear a snap
is that for real?
i look,
in the deep blue sky
turning over, turning shades of red
she's gone
and the voice of cruelty just laughing
just laughing at me
for there is an absence, now
of that little tail fluttering
with goodness,
with unattainable borders
that i missed and missed
connie pachecho
3/3/17
It was said of old, 'Truth lies open to all', but today
perception is all; no one is perfect but perception
can cure all blemishes, avoiding the fate of being hero
to zero that brittle celebrity promises in life, in posterity.
What a vicar would be shocked to hear, to see, as though
these shock jocks of life and death are maiden aunts who
have never lived: after their demise what a media shock,
what a surprise that these puritans had a love life being
charitable on the sly, belying their dark clothed strictures.
Prim and proper Betjeman's Fifties pose metamorphosed
into a lamentation that he wished that he had more sex
unlike Greeneland's adventurist aunt who had no need to
fabled in the Sixties: our time for ever and always for everyone.
Making our moral dilemmas not confusing morality
with law, hating injustice but being unjust by being
self-righteous becoming our own judge-pentinents
before the fear of ourselves more than this wicked wide world
of wonders defying cynicism by imbedding in us scepticism;
not just of the hypocrtical red- tops that only rarely have a
kernel of truth besmirched by lawyers some of whom not
not having their chopped heads off are a sure defence
of the powerless and true. Even when perception is as
broadminded as the times while being full of righteous
outrage if time fast forwards the past obeying a new
morality old, dressed in new garb.
Who riots? Who occupies? Who wins? Who loses?
We see darkly as we shadow the mote in our
own eye until we can see we are all in this together whether
we are together or not; when hidden charity characterises
us in not in righteous mode in nor complacent commode,
so that one day, for all living on this oblique spheroid,
we can all truly say that, 'Truth lies open to all', on the good Earth.
TEMPER
My love,
I am pained by my pain which leaves me in pains
Oh!.
Have you not drank your fill
Of my will's will?
The tug ever drains me
Temper!
Temper my love!
Are you listening?
My mind is a mine
Mined In fields
Of my faces
Oh!
By whom you ask?
Oh! Please you know better of my foes than I can number my woes
I seek a treaty of decorum
For I hide and seek,
which glances to give at every waking morn
It tires me
Temper heed!
It tires me.
I am stuck in a bowl..
No a bowling alley
Sorry, I went bowling..
Temper dearie.,
See as my sanity flees from me
With every whistling intake
You are priceless to a fault
Sorry.. A point
I have drunk dry of my purchasing power of you
My minds bank seems bankrupt
Please!
Do not loan them in.
Whom you ask?
Your offspring
You play my sanity as they delay my insanity
Imagine the pain of injecting you in
Yet I commit a felony if I let you shine
Besides giving me an audience,
You get me an audience
They differ in purpose
One to hear, one to leer
Nip you in the bud they say
But I really love,
The psychopathy you give
The satisfaction of deride
The aloofness of my prey
As they are caught In my web
Listen!, do you hear
The drums of their quaking despair
The loss of steering which is lost
But is still in their hands
But my deride is far from the labeled cups
Of despair
My weakness unnerves my being
Their weakness display calms me
Why?
Cannot let it show
They toy with the truth
Seen alot of their cinemas of toy
Bottom line
Their pain for my pain
Loss of steer for my steering
Insanity is a constant in all
But!
It's levels varies for all
So I seem mad
Am I?
Maybe mad indeed I am
It's all your fault
I can't withdraw, the symptoms
Are too pathetic
I need this job
You can't throw me a cliff hanger
Of your depature
The adrenaline pumps to my mind
Blemishes me with deadly wits of control
What you define as manipulation
The edge It gives
Similar to an addiction
Is the key to my survival
... So we die here, right?
I am hooked to you with a line and fingerlings
I hope a good shark snaps me
I really want to quit you
My sweet addiction
But you are just too sweet.
CUB.J.PRINTS
When the raspberry horizon
is curled up,
shaping caramel-lilac lips
of the cashmere kismet,
singing in a choir of cherry chivalry
and honey-glazed fireflies ~
those snowy stars
simmering in summer silence,
f l i c k e r
a w a y
leaving burgundy blurs of beliefs,
wrinkled in those blinking blemishes
of clementine memories,
which once trailed hysterical footprints
across my fairy-threaded horizons...
And I lay, breathing l o v e
on a pillow of pristine pearls ~
succulent with the silver songs
of perfumed yesteryears ~
chiming through chocolate valleys
and rippling in the ruffles
of origami reveries,
weaved in scarlet sonnets...
where you and I, chakras of the divine ~
w a l t z
like the sunset
and its shadow
through a halo of rose-rings ~
our spiritual silks
rinsed in rubies,
as every aromatic alphabet
caresses those syllables of storms,
stained with the murkiness of maroons
and the velvet rain of remnants
leaves a champagne spark ~
igniting indigo illusions
that whisper
whirling intuitions
in my saffron-kissed kundalini...
" O' thistle-light
distancing me
from my dandelion i n k ~
I'm no longer a paranoid petal
swirling in a havoc of hate and rust,
rather, I'm blossoming ~
aesthetic in strawberry arcs,
dreaming of a reality
above imposters of nightmares,
where my honeysuckle sepals
hold hope as a golden anchor ~
fluttering in pink opal warmth,
and I feel like the heat of life,
for those decaying flowers,
betrayed by
the
torrents
of
t i m e... "
dear lord of the scintillating swan light,
in the fulcrum of fragrances ~
this sailor soulfully sails,
as a telepathic trespasser
tangentially
steering
to an orchard
without
rose-tinted
reveries...
to be the last scent
of forget-me-nots ~
manifesting a meraki of miracles
in those mulberry mosaics,
where the esoteric zephyrs of elysium
still remember me ~
as a sandalwood-scented soulmate
of the forgiving sun...
Although the place where the dead go is called the world beyond,
some say that it’s located underground while others say that it’s located in heaven above.
Since the world beyond is not the real world where you and I live,
it doesn’t make any difference whether you go to heaven above
or netherworld below
the majority of people, when their time comes,
whether they lived their lives virtuously or not,
they want to go to heaven rather than the underworld.
Because the underworld is dark, chilly and damp,
moreover, time doesn’t move forward but is still,
people suppose; heaven is warm, bright and beautiful
with seasonal changes in colorful sceneries.
The thing is, though may it be human nature to choose heaven,
to me, rather hard to comprehend is the one who asserts
that they are the ones who will enter heaven wearing
a garment smeared with covetousness and hide their deformed ugly heart in it.
Most men who allegedly say that they will go to heaven
are those unable to see their own blemishes, no matter how big
they may be, because they are so arrogant and self-centered.
Nevertheless, they spot other’s flaws so easily, no matter
how small they may be, and scold them severely because
they are self-righteous hypocrites.
They donate a fraction of great sums that they collected from
many tenderhearted good people in the name of God or of charity
and boast on themselves though they appropriate the rest of the large
sum for their purposes, as if they sacrificed a lot of their possessions and precious time, as if they were the most caring and understanding human beings.
Though they ill-treated their own parents they shamelessly tell others
to respect their parents, they are deceptive pretenders. They are men
able to trade their own brothers for any price without the pangs of conscience though they once swore before God that they would be faithful to their brothers.
For those human trashes insist that heaven is theirs though
the men who qualify to enter heaven humbly lower their head
without a word, perhaps Peter the owner of the key to heaven,
is troubled badly with men’s ignominies; it would force dignified rigorous Yama*,
the lord of hell, to smile a grim smile.
*Yama, the Chinese and Hindus King of Hell. Hades of the Buddhism.
she never thought she was pretty enough
always walked with her head held down,
not wanting anyone to notice the blemishes she tried to cover up
she was never made aware of how beautiful she really was
inside and out
she just wanted to fit in
so then came the little bitty shirts with cleavage overflowing
and the itty bitty skirts she could barely fit in
she just wanted attention
from those guys
the guys every girl wanted on their arm
she got attention alright..
that friday night
never thinking inviting him over would cause any harm
her parents were outta town
house all to herself
she was rare..virgin at the age of 16
but that was about to change with his help
he knocked on the door,
she let him right in
the night started out perfect
watching a movie, all snuggled up on the couch
in her mind thats how its going to end
if she only knew his plans were far from hers
just asked him to get her some more coke,
but after that her night became a blur
because not only did he fill her cup with coke,
he slipped in a little something on the side
and on that couch,
while the movie was still playing
he stole her innocence and her heart just died
not able to move, but aware of everything that was going on
he was hurting her
scarring her mentally and physically
and all she could do was lay there
even after he was long gone
she just wanted to feel pretty
just wanted to fit in
now she felt disgusting
just soaked in the tub,
scrubbing and scrubbing trying to cleanse her skin
never really spoke a word of this til years down the road
she was young.
didnt wanna get into trouble
thats why she never told
now she can speak on it
just wanting to help young girls that remind her of herself
trying to make them understand that beauty is only skin deep
and to feel pretty, you dont need a man's help
it took her years to feel pretty again
to allow herself to trust another man
but she got to a place where she felt safe in life
and that is walking with him
hand in hand
by him i mean God,
she gave her life to him
she trusted him to keep her safe
to let her life begin
she never felt prettier
she found it deep within
letting herself finally exhale
and breathe in a life lived thru him
Sitting in bed.
It’s time for sleep, shower first.
Three baskets of clean clothes, bedside.
Cats' nocturnal sport rumbling across the wood floor, mother pouncing daughter, chasing rubber balls.
Tinnitus and the sound of air whuffing through the ventworks. Faintly piano music seeps through the seal of my door from children’s room, as they dream. I’m sitting... in bed.
I need to shave. My razor’s dull. The hairs will be plucked from my face, less shorn. I will examine skin for blemishes, and finding none will probably aggravate a neutral irregularity to the point of bleeding. I’ll brush my teeth first, to avoid the taste of shaving cream. Then shave and shower, and recall the salt stone my abuser once gave me. She loved me then. Perhaps.
My shampoo is infused with tea tree oil and mint. It irritates my sensitive scalp a little. It smells so good.
I’m not ready to sleep. I’m not ready to shower or shave. I still taste milk on my breath. And I’m awake, as if capturing a few more moments of consciousness… were a virtue. Is it?
Tinnitus my faithful friend. A frequency so high it’s almost imaginary. A close listen reveals dissonance, two or three tones. The warbling interference pattern. You are the closest I come to silence.
Cotton swabs, shoot. I need to make a list. One or two things I remember in the store, and more I forget. Some microwavable containers for rice, to take to work. I’ve been eating sweet potatoes in an effort to lose weight. I like them, but… variety.
Something… something else I wanted to remember. Batteries? No, that wasn’t it. Cobwebs? No, why would I need to remember cobwebs? I have cobwebs in my brain. Ah! Kitty litter. So that too, and… well, I’ll think about it later.
I’m starting to lose feeling in my feet and lower legs. It’s better than restless legs, with which I sometimes wrestle. Usually when I’ve done this, procrastinating sleep. Magnesium depletion, I suppose. Or something.
To have a hand on my back, scratching sweetly. An tender arm draped lovingly, even excitedly over my large belly. The sensation, the meaning. I long for it. Long hair, gentle voice, she's with me. Forever. If only.
Goodnight.
"Pack the chairs,no souls will be entertained here",
Politics is stealing the future of scholars,
The faith is rather picking blemishes from religious pillars,
Can't make it plain to them of my changed mind,
Grew up along the coast,
Education wasn't a key boast,
Chasing money and abiding to words from our illiterate parents,
"Hey,...if you refuse to go fishing,no food for you today",fear really got itself filled us with adherents,
The punishment comes always with fatality,
What is known to be risky,we see it to be easy,
Trained with marshal laws,...and it's the powerful canes form masters in the halls,
Privileged men went ahead to acquire knowledge,because they had all it carried,
Knew what is meant by a treasure buried,
Fought tediously to overthrow the whiteman ruling over their integrity,
When nothing was induced much into us,eyes were opened to plenty,
Disappeared from home to where no man ever had an idea about,
Saved by a richman but lonely hunter mouse ,
Impacted into me in-depth understanding,
Showed me the realities of life;formal education without a payment,
"God bless his hidden soul",
Returned after so many years,
"Life is now precious and exerting greatness of me,
Society wasn't able to exercise recognition of who I am,
But yet still,I found my childhood friends fighting for success with grey hair",he noted well,
Expression on their faces proves their lost in the middle of nowhere,
Hailing his superiority among them,he was appointed as the chief advisors brain,
So many opportunities he gained,
His life was a breakthrough to the land he was born to cater,
He is a refined gold within a polluted water,
Inculcated intelligence into his fellow people scoop,
Few took it wholeheartedly;they had eyes for pride so they've made it in a bloom,
Politics practically went about chewing the learned knowledge as strict,
Coping with internal and external institutions,he raised a fine district,
But,his heart never desired for a truth;
What were deceptions to uproot?
Helmet of glory,
Passion for God plays the background of his officialdom,
Only blink of eyes taking a yawn,religion stole his referendum.
I'm still waiting for you to shed some light on me
It's still minutes after midnight and I'm still up, baby
I'm hoping for some helpful answers to the questions
I'm wishing you well in all you do - no more assumptions
Our deepest fears and regrets are now water under the bridge
I'm still waiting for you to shed some light on me
It's a golden opportunity you don't want to miss any time soon
I'm lost in the reminiscences of my hopes and desires beyond marvelous measure
I'm wiping away the sadness debris from your eyes - be enlightened with mere pleasure
Our deepest fears and regrets are now water under the bridge
We're reaching out to the sky of a thousand universes
We're ascending from our haven of miracles and curses
I'm able to see beyond the wreckage of our lives
I'm able to hear beyond the bridge of our secret hives
Our deepest fears and regrets are now water under the bridge
I'm still longing 69 times for the Afterlife to take place on cloud 7 sooner or later
It's something that I've been waiting for for a long period of time - I'm my own savior
I'm pondering about the rough times we used to squander with each other
Now it's a forever blur and I'm bound to be in this cell of your goodbyes and your forever after
Our deepest fears and regrets are now water under the bridge
I'll be delighted to be a prisoner of freedom and triumphantly flutter aimlessly in liberty's captivity
It's as if I've been deceived into loving you and deprived of appreciation - I adore you, even if you are a figment of my imagination or a tale of fiction, my darling; you're my bittersweet reality
I'm wide awake and can't seem to fall asleep
I lay down hopelessly on my pillow and solemnly weep
Our deepest fears and regrets are now water under the bridge
Can you save me from my childish phobias?
Will you hear me out, although I'm full of blemishes and flaws?
Without a flick of doubt, I adore the many shapes of your auras that shine aglow
It fascinates me and it stirs up my curiousity to the max -
I'm still waiting for your sunlit glow, you know?
Our deepest fears and regrets are now rubble under the bridge