Mascara Poems - Poems about Mascara

Mascara smudged – through the tears I see the rumbling truth being preached By silent prayers, gentling peace… Doubting the whispers of yesterday’s dream, I fall to my knees, murmuring – tender Feelings bleeding through veins filled with Temptations, exposing the distractions – Little things, simplicity spilling from the windows, Panes squeaky clean and sparkling from The memory of hands swiping away the...

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WAITING FOR DEATH How tedious it is waiting for Death When She is still dressing up To sit in a quagmire of silent prayer While sandwiches turn dry How tedious when a nappy Must still be changed As Forgiveness waits for a touch And a mantra hangs like a noose How tedious when the chain thins But do not break Links either clogged...

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As sex and scars, mascara covers The blood n liquor mingles on the bar Draining to the vast caverns of my horrors While dark dreams coalesce in all my corners I sit here wondering: What went wrong Why did my rage drive me to the edge As the screws turn deeper into my head I hear the whispers of Vile things...

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A tear falls down the cheek, Glittering like a diamond, It tastes of the sea, Tears are they happy or sad, Forced or free falling, They both look the same, Wet eyelashes mascara running down the face, Leaving a black trail, red and puffy eyes, Tears show emotion but will ruin your makeup....

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DRY MASCARA Nobody sees through the shadow and the color of my eyes The times I've cried are the only time you notice the trace down my face This time, The sorrow at heart is deeper than anything I've ever penned or spoken of, an atmosphere of dark film and Revlon Many times I allowed myself to...

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a veil descended upon his restless soul converted into apathy and grave sadness no need to take off the mask of shadows there was no living persona left to reveal he dreamt of Venetian Carnival nights but the only seduction was an illusion of free flowing movement in stagnation Henry was well versed in nagging despair he had been living a pantomime in...

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Eyes dark brown Hint of opulence Deep stares Eyelids pose no indulgence Mascara projecting a bold persona Sometimes too intimidating to bear Coy corner of vulnerability Crumbles courage without care Stone hearted countinence No longer finds sustenance Smudged lashes Eyes set back Washing away that mascara Good or bad Happy or sad She becomes herself...

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Words in mascara of faces in faiths Not what I telling you But the tones of words in tacks of minds As absorbed is this that the hate of eyes Within hidden in hearts Applied in masks This haunting And howls...

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I heard an angel speak last night and he said “write”, “Write of the anguish and pain, The desolation, and isolation. May the ink fall like blood, Spill over the pages, Making permanent marks, Never to regain its flawless form again” I walk down the foot-worn trail, Bare feet turned black by the earth underneath them. Here comes that feeling, The feeling of death. Creeping up...

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Today she put on her makeup with a smile on her face, not knowing that the one she loved is gonna wash it away. When she looked in the mirror she saw a fake reflection, her mind had a feeling that the one she loved had a confession. When she got a phone call she knew her smile would...

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dark rain falling down.... liquid smog drops drizzling down so deep I may drown...

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I know how to make your makeup run Make you bleed like light bleeds from the sun Cause the mascara you wear to smear down your beloved face Tell me, how do tears stained black taste I know how to rip you scars internally Force you to the brink of pain for all of eternity Have you scream until your...

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It has come to this hasn’t it? Faded memories of who we used to be I remember crying over thoughts such as “I’ve lost him” and “I’ll never see him again” Black lines would trace my face and wear my eyelashes limp Sometimes it would take so long to scrub the black trails off There’s a time and a place...

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I would like to thank you for your visit. I have removed these poems for a distant future book publication. I believe we poets, can make a difference in this world. We live in the 21st century, we have tools( technology), we have our past, and imagination. We just don't have the courage, because I guess most are afraid to...

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"So what will you do without me?" he asks, I will become Jezzebel, like all the other forgotten women of romance movies, huddle in the back alley ways of notorious speakeasies in a revealing red dress and weep the soul of you out of...

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