
Priceless expression
In disbelief
Created the largest distance
A pivotal moment
Wishing it could be held still
Clueless to what motivates me
Not grasping the grand picture
Spoken like a fraud

Priceless expression
In disbelief
Created the largest distance
A pivotal moment
Wishing it could be held still
Clueless to what motivates me
Not grasping the grand picture
Spoken like a fraud
Forgive me if I speak the colors of truth
Forgive me if I stare into the painted sunset
Forgive me if I stand to close to the walls
Forgive me if I walk alone on the trails
Forgive me if I view myself as a whirlwind
Forgive me if I ramble in my head
Forgive me if I notice you don’t care
Forgive me if I see nothing in my future
Forgive me if I bottle up what you can’t see
Forgive me if I vent my frustrations to myself
Forgive me if I tell myself it will all be ok
Forgive me if I just keep to myself
Forgive me if I die and no one is at my funeral
Should I care enough
to acknowledge your existence
Do I care enough
to reply back to your nonsense
Should I care enough
to slap that grin off your devious face
Do I care enough
to raise my palm toward an empty man
Should I care enough
to not leave you penniless
Do I care enough
to take you to court
Should I care enough
to walk away from you
Do I care enough
about myself to make a decision
Should I care enough
about myself to leave you
*Marie had asked me to use this title for a poem.
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The quiet man is a cerebral hunter. The quiet man gravitates to the intellect. He is absorbed into observing and memorizing behavior. The quiet man is a visionary. The quiet man is complex and fascinated with the dynamics of relationships. The quiet man values quality not quantity. The quiet man sees the world through others. The quiet man seeks purity. The quiet man seeks beauty in all; perhaps he sits silently in the distance. The quiet man seeks simplicity in the complex. The quiet man is methodical and artistic. The quiet man is an optimist and embraces the warmth of humans. The quiet man is not a perfectionist. The quiet man admits when he is wrong and does not judge. The quiet man believes in the phrase “I can”. The quiet man sees the value of stages: growth and the truth. The quiet man reaches for spirituality. The quiet man has high standards and is goal oriented. He believes in equality. He is captivated by harmony and the melody of humans. The quiet man is viewed as an anti-socialist by others, a volcano ready to erupt. The quiet man defies social labels. The quiet man is blind by color, but can clearly see ignorance. The quiet man does not have the answers for everything, but only has perception. The quiet man does not like drama or self-pity. The quiet man is ambitious. The quiet man is shaken by intimacy. The quiet man is disturbed by his emotions. Perhaps the quiet man is tired of how he is viewed and labeled. The quiet man is not quiet. Perhaps no one listens to the quiet man, and how could they? The quiet man’s tongue is burning. The quiet man’s perception of himself is mediocrity. When the quiet man speaks, heads turn. People ignore the quiet man. Nobody cares what the quiet man has to say. He knows how he is viewed and would like the change that perception. As much as he tries to change, the label sticks. The quiet man is invisible. What is the quiet man to do? The quiet man is speechless. The quiet man is patient. The quiet man does not want to be the center of attention, but just to be noticed for something else than being quiet. The quiet man is misunderstood. The quiet man is not superficial. Perhaps others are wearing a mask. Perhaps the quiet man is afraid of what others will say when he speaks. Perhaps the quiet man just wants to be himself and be accepted for who he is, not a label. Perhaps we are all labeled in society from the minute we are born; from each stage of life that we enter. Someone gave you a label and it stuck. The reality is that every one of us is different. We are who we are and can’t change that. We like what we like and dislike what we dislike. The minute we speak of it, we are judged not for who we are, but interests. People bond due to interest in general, not for how we approach, live, and manage our lives. Perhaps the quiet man just wants to be accepted for who he is…doesn’t anyone care what the quiet man’s perception is? Maybe if we dug beyond the surface of people, everyone is beautiful in some small way. We all have quirks hang-ups, baggage, skeletons in the closets, and that really shouldn’t matter. Does that define who we are? No.
I can’t tell
If I’m lost
or if I’m just not found
I can’t tell
If I’m confused
or if I’m in a fog
I can’t tell
If I’m the enigma
or if I’m missing pieces
I can’t tell
If I’m scared of myself
or just want to be hidden
I can’t tell
If I’m in a movie
or my reality is dramatic
I can’t tell
if I’m an introvert
or I just enjoy being alone
I can’t tell
if I want to live
or if I’m content being alive
I’m a blurry train wreck
I’m the bottom of a pit
I’m the black ice in the winter
I’m the darkest rain cloud
I’m the sting from the bee
I’m a fading car crash
I’m the dust on the ground
I’m the tears in my lonely eyes
I’m a distant social disease
I’m the monster under my bed
I’m the skeleton in my closet
I’m the spider creating my own web
I’m the tarantula in the desert
I’m the demon in my soul
I saw you between the kaleidoscopic tears and wretched veins. I kept my distance and harbored the burnt edges of my existence. I clashed with harmony and my own walls that I have personally built. I stand between your denial and my built up frustrations. I walk away to hold on to my sanity knowing my dreams will never come true. I live for you. I live for what I love not the picket fences you created. I always thought love was elastic.
****
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You don’t need stunning
lipstick to make you sexy
You don’t need layers
of make up to make you beautiful
Just be real
You don’t need curves
to make you ravishing
You don’t need to perform
sexual acts to make you desirable
Just be honest
You don’t need to hide
all of the layers that make up you
Just be simply beautiful
***
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Up in a turpentine sky
A cloudless mirage echoes
Brilliance glows
Mornings splash
Abundance of joy sparkles
Fires twinkle
Souls singing
Hope is renewed
Faith is guided
All from the rising of the sun
*Priya had chosen this title for the challenge.
Rambunctious vile
Distasteful and loathsome
Repellant personality
Excruciating voice
Webs of rancid exteriors
A horrid smell of selfishness
Obnoxious point of view
Infamous small mind
Vindictiveness renders
Full filling the lonely
Unable to stand
Crawling like a two month baby
Expecting society to
play an orchestra for a
Prozac Nation
I don’t measure myself by the dollar earned
I don’t measure myself by possessions
I don’t measure myself by the scars
I don’t measure myself by what I write
I don’t measure myself by the quantity of friends
I don’t measure myself by my beliefs
I don’t measure myself by who I know
I don’t measure myself by my fears
I don’t measure myself by my philosophies
I don’t measure myself by my tears
I just don’t measure myself
I am who I am

I scratched my itch
I packed my bags
I didn’t laugh
I couldn’t say a word
They were already said
I held in the jungle
I swallowed my confusion
I didn’t see the condition
I couldn’t see the barriers
They were already built
I walked away from the illusion
I quietly closed the door
I saw a new found path
They were always there
I just ignored them
****
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Your deepest scars
don’t define who you are
Your deepest scars
walk away from the sunset
Your deepest scars
don’t stare into the light
Your deepest scars
hide behind the plum tree
Your deepest scars
don’t scream at the rage
Your deepest scars
have burnt everlasting edges
Your deepest scars
don’t speak in front of millions
Your deepest scars
never fade in the chapter
Your deepest scars
don’t disappear in the journey
Your deepest scars
shape your colorful soul
Your deepest scars
make you gorgeous

Condescending aficionado
speaks from a barbaric abyss
Staking claims and forecasts
reeking of gin and vermouth
He paws
He claws
Relentless and crude
Staring at her fishnet stalkings
waiting for her lipstick stains
delicious Coca Cola bottle curves
Inhaling her wicked scent
He probes
He pushes
Distasteful and off putting
Sucking in helium and lithium
personality rising higher than balloons
Viewing others as outcasts
engaging as a insidious vulture
He commands
He yells
Unforgiving and selfish
Demanding perverse declarations
Instilling superficial values
She crawls away from the blood hound
gazing at the sign of bittersweet crossroads
She kicks
She cries
Embracing the freedom

Direct and forward
A rabid salivating tongue
Deafening from silence
Gripping to the slick
and grapevine of truth
Lacking minimal patience
A vicious tightrope
Brash and Harsh
Invigorating sincerity
Zero fluctuation
Pledging to the straight arrow
The outspoken prophet
residing in a palace of lights
shimmering faith reverberates

Deteriorating eyesight
Cockeyed perception
Agitations foaming at the mouth
Removing the garbage
Calming the whispers
Torturing the roars
Sighing to the bee sting
Bleeding from the dry lips
Masking undertones
Streaming suspicions
Cutting the grapevines
Screaming murmurs
Bumbling suggestions leach
Rumors spread like a cold
Unsubstantiated truths

I will acknowledge
that I had an affair
I love metaphors
creating imaginary worlds
A written tapestry
Seduced by alliteration
I had an affair
with the craft of language
I’m enthralled by
the layers and symbolism
I’m engaged
to a place to release my tension
I’m in a atmosphere
where I’m understood
I’m in a whirlwind
where I’m forever lost
I’m pulled in
by the legacy of poets
Desiring to fulfill
a long winded fantasy
The affair will continue….

A carton of 2% milk to the left
Thin bottle of apple juice to the right
One shelf
A single cup of mixed berry yogurt
Second shelf
A six pack of Blue Moon beer on the bottom
of the shelf
Random condiments on the inside of the door
Could this be the refrigerator of a bachelor?

Writing with a light shade of pink
Paragraphs of wit and charm
Hallucinations of bitter love
Caught up in unknown webs
Burying summer flings and
hypnotic one night stands
Self inflicted wounds never sewn
The bookmark never leaves
this etched and engraved page
It’s the single page that altered
her perception of love and self