Short Blotchy Poems

A scrubbing time's piece
From dark cloth and pillow hugs,
Well manners bleached on
Smudge, gone moments by light that
A blotchy face remembers.

...

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There lies a stone in a field,
A stately old oak its shield.
I use to go there unknown
To sit and ponder and hone.
As I grew, so did the stone,
Though not in stature or build,
For these a stone cannot yield.
No---twas wise in years it grew,
In blotchy, lichenose hue....

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Tis the season of high expectation
And disappointing outcomes

Of obligations 
And guilty consciences 


Tis the season of cellulite
And failed diets

Of sinking self esteem
And blotchy faces

Tis the season of lighter pockets
And heavier souls

Ask and you shall receive...

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Don't show me a picture of your new puppy
i will tell you it would look good between 2 slices of bread
and your child is rather blotchy
if you turn round now
you wont be told to F__k off
My day wasn't bad till now
Take your pity and bury it in the pitiful pit
I think i went to sarcastic anonymous
but when i asked them they said
naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw...

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Sally Garrel is beautiful.
At least, that’s what she should be.
From her family’s looks she remains,
Perhaps most likely-
Fair white skin
Flowing blond hair
Flashing green eyes
Pouty lips moistly tinged rose
However, one can not truly tell,
For she is covered in
One Big Beauty Mark
Blotchy Brown
Fuzzed Hairs
Raised and Greasy
Sally Garrel is beautiful.
At least, that’s what she should be....

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I believe...
I see...
I think...
I feel...
Therefore I am. I am. I am.
Flesh & blood. Bone & hair.
My words aren't mixing, aren't rhyming, aren't anything.
Failed attempts to s-p-e-a-k.
Each letter is blotchy & black.
My mouth is filled with Rorschach tests.
Can you find the hidden meaning? Do you see a giraffe or brains blown against 
the wall?
"I thought I knew", she said with a faint smile.
"Oh honey you never knew..."...

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She's split  amongst the two
One a girl unheard of,
Few see little from
  Who gawks at the slivered moon
through blotchy eyes,
Welled up tears as big as moon pies
  The other a girl who holds up her fibs
Conjurring by magic,
A cloak to mask the lies
  Who catches tears before they slip
Neither bangs or pursed lips
Can hide the sadness in her eyes
  Both are placed with broken wings
She pulls her head together and flies
ME; this one note she sings...

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