Sunday, November 14, 2010

Poem I wrote: Thoughts? (Man speaking to woman)?

Darling, do you ever tire of all these crazy messages

Don't you ever stop to look in the mirror and reread those passages

Each word's got a life of its own

Claiming they're your friends and then they leave you alone

And I can't bear to see you cry



Your hair can be a mess of delusional shades

Ripped up follicles, greased up strands, and wound up bundles

Licking its lips are corrupted minds of deceptive media moguls

Any way they can use you, abuse you, and rape you of your wisdom

Is the best way to succeed in making money for their pride

Redefining beauty as a twist, a twirl, a bath in delicate oils and gels

Has anyone forgotten how to see with their own eyes



Your eyes can be two windows stained by disaster

Elongated lashes, discoloured shadows, juxtaposed bruises

Venting steamy, hot lines that say ';Come Hither!'; to any manly wolf

Big or small, wide or narrow, does it really ever matter

What the significant shape of your spiritual binoculars lenses are

If they're made in the shape of kindness, aren't they already striking



If you want to look beautiful darling, start with your hair



Your skin can be a blanket, worn by time and full of holes

Lining your lips, through your belly-button, ears and your fragile nose

Metal swords of accepting armies rage war with nature's philosophy

Lips lubricated in faded gloss, nails painted in seductive hues

Back and bottom, covered in pictures of two skulls and a bright red rose

Body scaled back to a stick bug that's waiting to be crushed beneath trampling feet

And silicon breasts that stick out like two signs advertising for intellectual porn magazines



If you want to look beautiful darling, start with your hair



And you think of molesting your own body all because

Someone criticized your hair

Your hair, which flows down to your shoulders and a little beyond

It weeps, it begs for life, it tickles my face, and it caresses your aching head

It sparkles in the moonlight, in the morning and evening starlight

It runs over your head like water over rocks in a burbling brook

It clothes your ears so they won't shiver in the cold

It covers your face in a charming summer breeze

And when I draw it back from your eyes

It reveals a smile, the one that I kiss softly



Your hair is too beautiful for a contemporary complexion

Your eyes are too shiny to be stained by shadowy grease

Your skin is too delicate to be poked at or prodded

Your nails remind me of marble dance floors we still waltz across

Your body mustn't be decorated for a pimp's Saturday night party



You are beautiful, just the way you are

Who needs hair dye or lip-gloss or piercings or tattoos

Who needs to wither themselves away in sweaty weight rooms

Who needs to stick out like sore prosthetic thumbs



You are beautiful now, darling

No future aspirations could make you look prettier

Or cuter for that matter



If you want to look beautiful, start with your hair

Let it be, let it be, let it be



We've talked the whole night

Can you even believe

This whole conversation started with you

Wanting to dye your hair

______________________________________鈥?br>


Basically, the message is...



';If you listen to the whims of society every time they disapprove of you, it starts with one little change, then another, then another.';



If you have followed my poetry in the past, this one may be a bit more blunt than previous works.Poem I wrote: Thoughts? (Man speaking to woman)?
I loved the message portrayed in this poem and I agree with it wholeheartedly. However, at times, I did loose focus and kinda felt like I was being lectured at; at first I even thought that the narrator might have been telling her to wash her hair, but I like to think otherwise - that he wants her to be natural and free. To love what natural, God-given beauty has been bestowed upon her. For that, truly, is the most beautiful of all.



I laughed when I read the last stanza. Cute.Poem I wrote: Thoughts? (Man speaking to woman)?
Ok

I will be blunt

I got halfway through it and felt like I was getting a lecture.

wow.. you said blunt too.. ok

we are on the same wavelength but this is not really interesting .. It lost me and I could not continue.. a good poem should hold your reader hostage.
Have a Star !



Sometimes a Wannabe needs a lecture..:)



Whoever she is... wrap this piece

inside a box of Bon Bons

and place it in her locker.

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