Two Dimensional Poems

Clouds

A paper man
Under paper clouds
The sky is falling
and he doesn’t know why

His edges are folded
He feels he’s undone
There isn’t any warmth
from a paper sun

Cellophane grass
Cardboard under feet
He has a paper girlfriend 
With a paper heartbeat

His feelings feel flat
Just a few wrinkles 
Paper snow is falling
A tinfoil star twinkles

A world of my creation
I just want to feel
Hoping my sky won’t fall
Nothing feels real

I’m three dimensional 
Under a real sky
There’s hope beyond clouds
When my mind tries to lie

So I grasp for happy
A bit of pleasure too
Even when it’s not easy
It’s just what I do.

Inspired by a friend.
As men we are taught to keep our feelings to ourselves and suffer in silence.  In 2012 I went through  depression and it took me a long time to look for help.  When our feelings are flat and the world feels two dimensional, seek help and reach out to a friend. There are people who love us. There is no reason to suffer in silence. Colour returned to my world and I am thankful. The sky didn’t fall even though in the moment it felt so real.

Revolve

There's an endless cycle of living,
Where it's not always good or all bad.
It's constantly circling around taking and giving,
Seemingly lost, like a chaotic nomad.

While surviving along the two-dimensional plane,
Appearing to obediently follow only that of time.
One can only search about aimlessly,
For some reason to an obtuse rhyme.

However blind, there is a direction, that
Leads to an unforgiving cause and effect.
When the sums may become insurmountable,
No matter the levels of disrespect.

Yet beyond this flat, geometric reasoning,
Alternatives are seen, not from a circle, but a sphere.
As a multitude of tangents take new form,
Bringing new hope, along with old fear.

This revolution seeks to close its own circle,
Though its path will be curvilinear in its quest.
Since its journey may evolve with new experience,
Allowing for growth in the universal test.

Yosemite's Beauty

Yosemite enchants us with her beauty,
And throngs take two-dimensional pictures
To fill 8x10 frames and social sites.

She speaks with water and light, but only
iPhones listen – for few sit quietly 
To hear her murmurs of mystic meaning.

She remains but a photo-op and her
Spirit breaks – she pleads, ‘Hear me, please!’ as
Granite-rim tears smear her mascara.

hot days

when it gets dark
it remains humid and warm
the stars are obscured
by a heavy haze
the trees are so still
as if two-dimensional
a thick silence
broken only by boy racers
revving up Willett Way
night’s muggy cloak
stills the birdsong
open windows bring
no refreshing breeze
my clammy body sags
my brain slows to a standstill
my eyes can hardly keep open
my bones feel my age
my spirit feels even older
I yearn for days
cold and wet, while
realising that our selfishness 
short-sightedness and greed
mean that future summers
will be much worse
while I’ll be even
less able to cope.

Recital

Recital / free verse / Pride

Expectation rushes in
As her silent walk begins
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion
But none revealed
As she takes her place among the muses

No one breathes as her studious eyes
Examine the two-dimensional codes
Then silence breaks
As both hands spring into fantastical dance
On an ever changing ivory and ebony stage

Mellifluous tones, conspicuously full and rich,
Transport all on an uplifting emotional journey
Ears, minds, hearts and lungs
Feasting on delicious pabulum of spirit

Soon tortuous movements diminish
The fantastical dance declines
With final notes
Striking harmonious chords
Deep into our psyche
Our ethereal journey ends
And we gently land where we began

She pauses, then rises
To a cacophony of applause
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion as she exits
But none revealed
Save a quick glance & brief smile
Acknowledging her proud parent's pounding hearts
Misting eyes and beaming faces


Recital / tanka / Pride

smooth operator
flawless rhapsody in blue
climax conclusion
cacophony of applause
with proud parents’ pounding hearts

PERPECTIVISTA francesca uccello

PRESPECTIVISTA fracesca uccello
sophisticated
  two- dimensional
picture
  space
 proportionzl
 & measured
vanishing point
in
parallels
of
distorted
  aesthetic
    assumptions
of
natural
reality
in
i!lusions
  made
possible
in
spatial
  horizontals
of
receding
  versimultude
In
muted
   contrasts

Shadows

You are the absence
And yet the presence

Following
Like I owe you
Something
You fade in and out
Of existence

Lurking
In the sunlight
Casting doubt
On my bright thoughts

Two dimensional 
Grey and quietly 
Stalking
Unsensational 
And yet..

You are faithful
Ever present
The shadow heart of me
We walk in time

You never criticize 
I should credit you 
For loyalty
And not despise 

I created you
You form part of me
You cast me
You are my 'who'

Extend me safely
Allow me to protect 
Others from the glare
As the spotlights detect

You are soul's proof
Of existence
The silent witness


SS
21st September 2023

Shadows Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
*WINNER* Placed 3rd

The New Norm

the new norm
people seem more angry
out of sorts with each others
dissatisfied with life

the new norm
grandparents are two dimensional
seeing their grandchildren on screen
manners are out of date

the new norm
thank you notes are unheard of
appreciation is answered with “no problem”
people sit next to each other and speak through text

the new norm
more suicides
unhappy people
Utube is raising the children
Their parents can barely feed themselves

Mirror Self-

I watch myself now and all I see is just the two-dimensional me

11/17/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020

Hidden Woman Ii

I held you captive
                                             framed in a photo

                                          Your uniform is nudity
                                         and no one must know
                                                 what I want

                                                  I get it fast
                                            Like raw egg spilling

                                           Easy if it was only sex
                                            between your frozen
                                           two dimensional legs

                                              But I am granted
                                                 only one way
                                                 to be tender

                                          In deathless darkness
                                              I pretend to feel
                                              you holding me

Precious Moments

The bogeyman exists, influencing lives
through drugs, alcohol, and violence.
We often say and do illogical things
in pursuit of love and happiness.
Sometimes, the building blocks of trust;
get laid upon weak, moral grounds. 
And relationships are in jeopardy;
when we fail to communicate truthfully
with each other. 
Time is neither good nor bad;
it's a constant current
of precious moments and heartaches,
that form memories with equal determination.
Lust accomplishes the role assigned to it;
but lacks the spontaneous heat required
to ignite love's eternal flame.
And so, it is two-dimensional;
it satisfies urges and longings,
but it's noticeably lacking depth.
Our hearts get tethered to our emotions,
and we oft find ourselves
trespassing on the feelings of others;
with immunity and impunity.
And given the opportunity,
hate, festering within the human heart,
will flare up;
and consume us from our insides,
like a cancer.

The Traitor Will Bleed

Years on the rack.
Stretched out and winding
Cogs and broken pieces
Shrapnel.

While I
Box upon box.
The unburied dead. The hatchet.
Littering my surroundings
The casings of a former life
The scorched earth. The salt.
The endless devastation.

While you
Small town to small town.
A view of the sea.
Several hundred miles from
The battlefront.
In your armour made of paper
And your cogs
And your litterings
Of endless vast rubbish.

A gust of wind so strong
It could send your flat and weightless 
Two dimensional sense of self
Flying. Splintering.
Lost.

I am recovered
Piling away
Myself with the remnants.
Box upon box.
The traitor will bleed.

Dreamscape

A deep pit, a crumbling edge,
at the bottom, a pool swarming with sauropods.
There is someone, a boy.
I shouldn't have taken the child here.
I'm slipping, taking him with me;
he won't let go of my hand.
We are sliding on the scree.
A gun heavy on my hip,
its weight drags us down,
to where saw-toothed muggers
thrash in a melee.

It's then that I transition.

I’m a visitor, two-dimensional
in a hurrying cityscape.
I've lost my car
in one of many similar concrete blocks.
Home is a door in the back of my mind
A door not opened yet, I suspect behind it
is a child who knows his way back.
He’s holding a tin wind-up crocodile,
one his dad once bought him.
At his side a revolver,
the same type I purchased
in Florida
in the event of alligator attack.

Evolution of the Species

We stand in line for this?
A two dimensional string
A world with no up or down
Moving back and forth only

Favored by nature moving
Forward and backward evolve
From that blank genetic pool
Favored by natural selection

The double helix comes forth
DNA could not be happier
3 dimensional directions expressed
Next!  History demands satisfaction
Complex life forms call for discord

After all, humans are inferior 
Insects are more organized creatures
Sophisticated bugs live outdoors
Yes!  True!  They might eat their young
But they never go to war without reason

At What Point

At what point will the past bury us,
Taking control of the bus,
So, life rushes past us.

A flickering picture show that bruises our ego,
With guilt having nowhere to go,
And the last bus a distant glow.

Hate resurfacing for us to pass on,
Showing us a two-dimensional view of those long gone,
With character assassination heaped on.

At what point will we run out of air,
Having gone too deep to hear,
From the present up there.

Our future now clear,
No machine yet capable of bringing us up for air,
And those who we left behind see their future elsewhere.
  
This message I hope,
Will stop you from being a dope,
And give you time to shorten your rope.

• Short Two Dimensional Poems
• Famous Two Dimensional Poems
• Best Two Dimensional Poems
• Read Two Dimensional Poems
• Long Two Dimensional Poems
• Two Dimensional Quotes