Long Looks can be deceiving Poems
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Deceit is carefully painted
by how the painter holds their brush
Arrogance will be their downfall
and their ego will be crushed
Hate is driven by jealousy
as they covet thy neighbor’s goods
Quick retreat is shown to all
as they scatter deep into the woods
Many ignore the rules of engagement
as they cast bricks, more lies and stones
They threaten our way of life
a new path they must be shown
The canvas displays their intentions
whether they’re peaceful or whether they’re not
Looks can be deceiving with a skillful painter’s touch
beware of all the colors and the image that they’ve wrought
My flower lies within, a sight that few have seen.
Protected and hidden by sharp thorns and leaves of green.
An innocence ripped away at a very early age.
My flower's locked away in a cold and lonely cage.
Pain and loneliness now partnered with a lost child’s soul.
A broken heart now pleading to once again be whole.
Looks can be deceiving a flower hidden forever be.
Most will see just thorns never looking in to truly see.
It dwells within the darkness overlooked and locked away.
Living without light, in my dreams it does gently sway.
Maybe the day will come when my hidden cage is found.
I hope true love’s key will set me free from the pain that surrounds.
This land has many flowers some of their beauty is hard to see.
Many eyes and many beholders, from sea to shining sea.
Beauty is seen by all, but noticed by just a few.
Stop and smell the roses, may their beauty see you through.
*The Flower, The Thorn or Both Poetry Contest*
7-7-20
That old blue chair doesn’t look that special upon one’s first perceiving…but, as often is the case in life, looks can be deceiving.
There’s a reason we keep that old chair in our house…a reason it will always be there…you see it has a history…it was Deborah’s great grandmother’s chair.
That chair has been in Deborah’s family for years…ours is just the latest house in which it dwells…If you chance to sit and listen…oh, the stories it will tell.
Sitting in a chair like this you realize…this chair is not just yours…as you rest your arms on the same arm rests where Deborah’s great grandma rested hers.
Memories in that old blue chair run through its frame…run deep…close your eyes and you can feel Deb’s great grandma rocking her to sleep.
Keep them closed and you can feel as she listened to her old phonograph…you can see her smile as she watched her family…you can hear her cry…her laugh.
That old chair is more than just a chair…through all these years it has survived…and the memories stored within it help keep a family’s history alive.
That chair will one day be handed down again and again and in other houses it will dwell…and to those lucky enough to sit in it…oh, the stories it will tell…
No doubt people will say that old chair doesn’t look so special upon their first perceiving…
until they sit down…
close their eyes and realize…
looks can be deceiving.
I saw a tree crying in the rain
A woman hurting with no pain
The wind blowing but I couldn't
prove it
The earth spinning but I could
not move it
The song itself could not sing
The thought it travelled with no
wings
The words alone could not
speak
The gauge could measure but
could not heat
The ocean roared but could not
rain
The valley moves not yet isn't
lame, and a deck of cards can't
play a game
A knife can cut but can't taste
the meat
And a drum can never hear a
beat
yet a broken heart can keep on
beating
Fall leafs can fall without
leaving
But can you cry without your
tears?
Can time go by and not make
years?
Can you lose your mind and
still be sane?
Can she hurt . . . and not feel
pain?
And a tree can't cry in pouring
rain
But looks can be deceiving and
memories can fail
Perhaps it was the woman
crying in the rain, and the tree
that could not feel
For who's to say what's really
real?
I drift off to slumber only to receive a warning.
An alert to impending danger.
The one who is evil and,
Aims to turn your soul black.
Beware of the one with hair of fire and,
The voice of an angel.
Watch out for her piercing black eyes.
Yet, all will hear that her heart and soul are pure.
The message is clear,
Looks can be deceiving,
You must search within your,
Heart and look into her soul.
You will notice the kind smile and,
The black will disappear.
The devil invades our dreams,
Giving us false messages.
Those that are pure of heart,
Will never be seen as evil.
The eyes are the doorway into the soul.
This is what you must remember.
As I watched her perch upon a flower then quickly flutter by
I was reminded of the lessons I have learned from watching butterflies.
I’ve learned that change is not a bad thing…butterflies have taught me this
for every day we are alive is a metamorphosis.
I’ve learned that looks can be deceiving…for butterflies silently shout
how there is beauty inside each of us just waiting to get out.
I’ve learned there must be a higher power…
as I’ve watched butterflies who’ve found a way
to pause every now and then, to fold their wings and pray.
Butterflies have taught me time is short…
which means from the moment our wings unfurl…
we should do our best…to add beauty to the world.
Finally butterflies have taught me to find wonder in the tiniest of things
for what else is a butterfly but a flower that’s grown wings.
I will never stop watching butterflies…to them I shall always return…
for they have so much more to teach…and I…so much more to learn.
Looking at the view from the window
Watching all the cars pass on buy
The street lamps give a distant glow
Now brienghting the darkened sky
Looking at the view from the outside
A whole completely different perspective
Especially when looking from the inside
Some things seem like their reflected
Looking at a view that's way out of focus
One asks what it is that I'm now seeing
Making up your own style of burnoculs
Though I'm told looks can be deceiving
And now I'm looking at a view from a far
from way up above, from a great height
I wonder to my self is it a shooting star
Though it dose seem quit out of sight
Now looking at a view from way over there
I suppose from that of an artists point of view
Like all around a blank canvas, stripped bare
Trying though to separate the old from new
A view from a completely different angle
Now that changes the whole dynamics
Different shapes, is it a square or triangle
I don't know so much about the physics
Iideas from others I wrote like sights and sounds
Idea came from seasons and ghost town poems I wrote
probably makes no sense but like I said in my dys of colour poem
the way my thoughts are made WRITTEN BY MYSELF DAVIDSCOTT FEB MARCH 2013
wishing round in my head while think of other things at time maybe reedit in future
im still working on something else called rems