image
Learn more about other poetry terms
I remember swiping on your profile
Your eyes like stormy skies
I remember your smile
The way it tilted slightly to the right
And the way I couldn’t stop staring at you
But it almost feels illegal
Look deep in the mirrorDo you see color?What do you see?Can you see the sins of the humanity,And the hypocrisy creeping at the doorsteps?Blinded by the murky and muddyGlaucoma of jealousy,
Here again, i'm cradled by the unreleasing arms
Of the white, shot sun's grim descent
It always finds me frantic, unprepared
I try to talk myself into some kind of world of understanding
Find empty auditorium seats
I would measure deeds on the scale
Adorn the time with the pendulum
Wondering how sand walk on her.
Taking time to understand as the fine dust I am.
I would return, grey or not.
The look of love
Of two hazel eyes,
Turn to one
As love looks back on me
Of two blue eyes,
Turn to none
A same look
What does it mean to have worth?
Is it something that is assigned to you at birth?
I have searched for the answer since I was a child,
And through my journey, I have become tired.
They say to not care what they say
They say to not care about what they think
They say it's okay to stand out
But what they don't understand
Is it is exactly they
looking in the mirror
it’s hard for me to see
it’s hard for me to see myself
for who i want to be.
do you see me,
the beauty that lies beneath?
do you see my smile shining so bright?
For the man with a son
who still looks like a child himself.
he writes silly notes and always has candy in his pockets.
How can somebody so young have the eyes of an old man.
"Compare yourself to you".
"Look for your heart on your sleeve".
Through the lips of my compass.
Stale makeup and
Rotting laughter
Broken race cars that couldn’t go any faster.
Fermenting anger and
Broken smiles
How far can we go
Looking perfect all the while.
A jack of all trades but a master of noneSkilled in plenty but always out doneBy those who mastered their craft and tradeLeaves this world with no legacy made
Our faces bounced off of every wall, as well
as the bodies of many with faces of despise,
Some of theirs would shrink and some of theirs would swell
Next time I look in the mirror, I’m just gonna try to see me
Not some superficial image of who they want me to be.
If my eyes are deep dark brown, that’s what my momma gave me
If my lips are kind of full, well
This is for the girls who believe the number on the scale, determines whether they are beautiful or not.
This is for the men who don’t fit in the role of “tough man,” that media portrays them to be.
A regular day filled with talking and laughing, joking and gossiping
Always done with a fake grin plastered on
Teens argue, insult, bully, tease, and intimidate
But if anyone asks, life is great
The business of show
The business of show
is a strange thing I know,
It lives for a yes but then kills with a no
It asks for your heart but your image it owns
Is this the face that launch’d a thousand ships? Doth Helen envy likely grace within?My joy, thou should’st be sin; thy lovely lipsDo tender kiss my face and all therein;Be so the cause of shipwrecks in thy way
moonlight is so bright
but what does it sound like?
it sounds like the nights
where you muffled cries
it sounds like the nights
where there was nothing to do but sigh
but sometimes
Dear You,
This is my least favorite part of my day.
I can never escape her eyes.
And my body can never escape her judgments.
"Bent, broken, barbed"
That's all she seems to say as her nails
In the depths of the reflected light
You can catch a glimpse, a girls' shadow
It's a sight you can't overlook
With her eyes so hollow and haunted
Concealing within a ghastly narrative
Plain moths.
We follow the light
Never daring to touch it
Filters on our eyes,
Seeing things
That are far from the truth
Oblivious to realize the facts.
She came swiftly then.
I am a piece of art.
The color of my skin
My eyes color and size
My hair color and style
My size in weight and visual
My height, short nor tall
I am the art of reality.
A slow and steady rainfall
Bringing life to those around
The ache in your stomach from laughing too much
Bittersweet in itself
The vast ocean with parts unseen
Your voice haunts me.
Your image dances in my head.
I cannot escape this feeling
that's been filling me with dread.
I am in a constant cycle
of anxiety and despair,
'cause every time I go to sleep,
We have nothing to say
But we can sure sound cute
My generation has got a brand new pair of boots
And we're not taking em off
To tell a story of the famed Knight Hawk
Listen whilst I remember, recall
Ready not yourself for a tale of sweet
For he was never such a declious trait
Knight Hawk began as a boy of late
To be beautiful
To be hot
To have a skinny waist
To have a six pack
To have a Kim Kardashian butt
To have a baseball players' rear
You picture me behind the curtain, scheming with Oz.
I wonder if when you see me, you greet the person you imagine me to be.
How awkward that I have little resemblance to the ghostly image
Which haunts me now.
Put the camera to my face,
The world is just an image.
I can capture what I want,
And leave out all the baggage.
Put the camera to my face,
The world is just an image.
Pastel masks of perfection
designed to improve
our disturbing reflection.
Made too thick to look past,
it's such a necessity for some
the marks will last.
It morphs into our skin,
I am who I am
And I want to have sex
You’re telling me no
But my body says yes
Society built an image
Tall, thin and pretty
Foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner
Some of the products used by many
The clothes that society says look good are designer
Am I the only one that finds jeans on clearance at JcPenny?
I'm not sure I like my reflection;He looks at me funny.There's something in his eyesThat boasts he knows me too well.And I just don't trust him-I think my secrets he might tell.
There is something to be said
about dragging dead weight
through a claustrophobic hall
way -every day- with
nothing but the bags on your back
This skin does not belong to me
it is merely borrowed.
A place in which I only temporarily reside.
My skin is not yet finished.
My time has not yet come.
But it will.
The cannons resound.Their deafening ringing smothers my voiceSilences my questioning thoughtsLeaves only the orders I was given.
Your body is not a temple; it's a tree.
Equipt with branches for limbs and leaves for all the little in betweens.
Trees are meant to grow strong for years and years
with their roots consistently reaching further.
Here but never seen
Hide behind the camera
I am a coward
Stuck in a small world
Yearning for new adventures
As a young woman it seems my body serves threat to my soul.
My body making up me; unqiue.
Curved and straight and flat and wide and thin and all, is my own.
Opportunities aren’t abound for women like me
My face has been stepped on
My history utterly destroyed
They haven’t fared well
If one can imagine them left in my position at birthIf our lives were switched
Through the glass I look
Searching for some answer
Faces slanted into an opaque distortion
Everywhere I gaze
In a world where people are periodically posting pics and sending selfies to fellow citizens, there is a surprising amount of self hate surrounding the subject.
When I look in the mirror
what do I see?
I see brown hair and hazel eyes,
I see a crooked smile,
freckles everywhere,
I see reasons people call me 'Katniss.'
But take all that away,
This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but
Delicate bones and pearly whites
My essence captured through awkward captions and
My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
When you look at the world What do you see?
Do you view your food and friends in Mayfair and Valencia?
Your wasting your time deciding which accent makes your skin look tan
Who am I without any of those filters or fake edits?
Well I am me
I am someone who is naturally beautiful
yet goofy all by my personal line of credit
I am someone with flaws just like anyone else
Maybe I'm crazy and insane. Maybe we are not the same. But now I know what I see. Every time you look at me. It's innocence, That light. A light that shines through any dark night. And tho you are far away. These words I still have to say.
When I take a picture
I smile and stare at my relfection.
My mind wonders if they will like it
if they will see me the way I see me.
What do you see,When you look in the mirror?You see you,And I see me.We are different,That is perfect,And how it's supposed to be.
Excuse me,
But i'm just tryna get your attention
from this world of mixed dimensions
And worthless misconceptions
engulfing the perceptions
that I am not beautiful
You see,
I am a woman who can do it all
Even though I am so small
I have so much potential because I know most of the essentials
Blood as red as a rose
They said death was something that you just chose
Truthfully it chose you
It's the glisten at the light,
That small glimmer of a perfectionist.
The dark waves and the pale surface,
a red sea with murky waters.
It falls to the arches,
it caresses to the skin.
I'm broke.
In all aspects.
Like the faucet in the projects dripping, that's waiting to be fixed, while the landlord's getting his fix. All white. All rock. In veins. In vain.
GoPro cameras and Selfie Sticks, our ancestors would be horrified.
But it doesn’t matter because fabricated images, and fraudulent stories are glorified.
What’s wrong with putting your best self out there?
My hair is thinning
My skin is almost pale
My life is nothing like a fairytale
I am of the average height
Contacts help me see what's in sight
I look for depth in everyone
Hey I do not do this often but your beautiful and was hard to pass up, The dimples in her cheeks filled like waves of emotion
No Filter.
More than just a recognizable hashtag on social media.
Use this to prove a point?
I see stars. See in them what I am capable of
I see a heart. Broken in between happiness like hope
I see void. In this I have come to rest
I don’t see myself.
I see a mirror. In this fractal misrepresentation,
Fighting fire with fire
Is not very wise
But when overcome with hatred
Sadness
and Demise
Eyes get set on erasing
Ultimately defacing
A person to a thing
Losing its self as a being
She's pretty.
No matter how she styles her hair,
No matter what clothes she wears,
As long as she smiles.
So am I.
No one else
Under its scrutiny
Its light
Because you are under it
All of your faults on display
Just out there
Exposed
And for
EVERYONE to see
But you must show them
Looking into the mirror,
Wiping away the tears.
A new day is ahead
And a new face appears.
No one can see past
The cover that is shown,
But nobody really understands
What is called the unknown.
I once knew a girl in Junior high ,
With pretty eyes but kind of shy,
her voice was sweet and smooth like butter,
But when people saw her they thought nothing of her;
She had one friend who she met in elementary,
The mirror cracks
with broken glass
unable to hold
the lies that are told
everything plastic
thought as attractive
the soulless has worth
we're told to convert
what is to live
Your morning breath blew beautifully
A familiar funk stuck on the windowsill
I’d steal this stench and drench my windowpanes repetitiously
Exact image shown in a different light
Image relected back to you
shows you the way others view you.
FakeA descriptor built from uncertainty and accusations Tailored to those who do not fit regulations or expectations - freaks Used by those who do not understand anyone and those who wish to understand themselves.
IMAGE
Image is a strong word
for girls and guys both.
It's not the word of the bird,
but the sense of the matter.
It's about what you can afford,
I am Bill Gates
At least I wish to beileve that's true
A high school drop out with fantasies that explains
If he can do it I can do it too
Fat
A word that tears at my throat and breaks the dams in my eyes
Stretch marks
Battle wounds from a battle that I lost with myself
Fat
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
Are the standards of today a consensus?
Does everyone really agree as to
What's out and what's in
Glamour versus sin
Too fat versus too thin?
A free me breathes in the air
As I spread my wings
As I sing and as I scream
For joy
No less
I put my wings
To the test
And fly. And soar.
And go through
The open door
Down the ground lookin' so low
All i want to know
will I go high, so high that I cant touch the ground?
Stuck in this cage with ties that i cant abound
I want to be more than this
with my uniquness
You with the faces.
JUST STOP ALREADY.
Cry if you wanna cry. Yell if you're angry. Punch me in the face if I say something wrong.
Looking at me with those blank eyes and smiling cheeks pisses me off.
She waits there waiting for the time she has been waiting for, to be forgotten was not her choice from every point of view she has been with a smile that never disappears.
When I look at myself in the mirror
and think that I could destroy the world
and graffiti the sky
all in a single day
I leave my makeup drawer untouched
and wear bright red converse
Here I stand with nothing of my own,
Everything was given to me from the start.
Standing on an empty road I must take this path alone,
Watching everything fall apart.
They're selling "dreams" for the price of your soul.
Wrapped in pretty green paper,
This is my attempt at a spoken word piece. Not finished. But, its how I want to start and end it. Tell me what you think...
I don't seem to get the meaning in making more meek men suffer man made rules
Its a never ending cycle of tips and tunes and steps and breaks
Eyeing the moving hands,
Girl stands alone in her bathroompleading for solace.Eyes lock on the mirror,the reflection of a girl with possibilities a mere stain.She is there,she exists,in every corner that Girl turns.
It is hard to define
Perfection
Still, society struggles to be the reflection
Perfection
I look in the mirror
And see the reflection of my papa’s heritage
My Scandinavian father’s father’s father
Towers over me smiling
His eyes, swimming in brilliant colors,
Show me his-story
The girl in the mirror always wanting to differ.
Wanting to be slim , not wanting to suffer.
But that girl in the mirror, is not really me.
She is of my imagination, what I believe I see.
the thing I would change is my very own image
why, you may ask is because others make me feel like garbage
but it's not just me
if you look around, it's others too you see
the thing about today
Steel rafts of ocean hands
Pearl into icy depths
Piercing through its smooth skin
Breaking the shocks of energy
Through thick blue
Lets write poetryAllow my words to penetrate your linesSoftly whisper the scratches of pen on paperuntil I have fully covered you in inkAllow me to be your guide
Along with the Thespians and the Thieving
Traveled the Thinker, boisterously singing
Songs with the lot of them, stopping only
To laugh at herself and at their lonely,
i dream of happier days:before the cell phone,her now-constant companion.before computers, iPods.before she caredabout how she looks.about fitting in,conforming.back when a night light
Our education system has got to do better.
I know nothing is perfect, but we can not go on like this forever.
Kids using profanity instead of the intellect God gave them.
People of different ages, genders, and identities stare into their reflections;
Your image is You, this is how God made you, He made you His Child, Whether in good condition or not, you're still you; Your image shows personality, it shows what you have as a human being, who cares if people make fun of you, that's who you are
I wrote this for the purpose of an inspirational video.The impact of the piece isn't as great unless you SEE it. Please check it out as you listen and read along. Copy this link into your browser,
Filthy hands shine in the light of the beautiful pain.
Glistening in the promise sin offers to gratify the mind’s desires.
Relief from the pain in frozen blood cries out.
Trembling.
Let me be me
Stop criticizing every move I make
Stop judging me, without fair play
You make me out to be the villain
Though I am the victim
For years you acted out
Inside, they consume me
the words of society
filled with rejection
My heart aches and throbs
as I'm wrapped in the image
of pure pefection
Yet I can not grasp
Looking in the mirror I see a girl...
I'm watching her scream
I'm rewinding her dreams
I'm watching her cry
I'm practically watching her die
I sit back and watch as she tries to wipe the tears from her eyes.
she walks the halls but doesnt speak
the pain is voiced by the tear on her cheek
her beauty and innocence corrupted by others
who point and laugh at the skin she covers
a boy who sits alone and cries
I look in the mirror
I wish I could see what you see
Skin so pale I could illuminate the dark
Curves in all the wrong places
Acne that covers my face
Oh the joy of being a teen
Hair that frizzes
Sailing in the waters of which You wept,
You sees a Light in the distant of the cove,
a Light that Reality would refer to as
a dead end.
The Light fades,
then flares,
fades,
The bones they scream in volumes that grow
I hear them begging to show
They want to press pass the barriers
They want me to learn “no”
It scares me as much as it thrills me
To take it all in and see
you like girls withlong, flowing hairhair that twists and turns and flows as the breezeflicks it and it danceshair that shines and sparkles and
What do you see when you look at me
Is it my body?
My curves, my fine physique
Now look me in my eyes and tell me what do you see.
A girl with low self-esteem and insecurities
Must it be this way
The consistent blame of 'media'
Why am I not allowed to love me?
The constant reminder that I'm still in remedial
Perhaps this is meant to be - a shell of what I used to love
Beauty is unreachable
Love is just a game
Lies become believable
Others thrive off of our pain
the mirror reflects
my image
i see all flaws
no light
am i really like this
is this what
others see?
My mom calls me perceptive
because I’m good at finding the cracks in the plaster
but in the end I’m no faster
when it comes to determining the truth
in every façade.
What I mean to say is I’m a lot like you
In the midst of the gale
I found myself, helpless and pale
A girl called Aanu, censorious of the image
Staring back at her in the mirror, the horror of her own visage
Please do not judge me on my face
My religion or my race
Don't judge me on my hair
Where I live or what I wear
Don't judge me on how I look
Or even the way I cook
His porcelain skin
& wiry brown hair,
His rosy cheeks
& baby blue eyes,
The cotton jacket
With matching leather shoes
& stiff cap.
Always at attention, like a soldier
A pasted on smile, stretched over bleached white teeth
Perfect skin, clean and bright
Perfect body, toned, tanned, and fit
Perfect hair, straighted and dyed
THESE are robot girls, ripped from glossy pages.
Who am I to think I’m beautiful?Disproportionate at every angle, my figure is shaped like that of a pear’s.And any claims to beauty seem to be rare,because I can hardly stand the sight of my body bare.
These words are mine,Written before you as they are me,Saying nothing yet saying something,About whom I am and claim to be.The interworkings of a mind sheltered,Shielded by my skeleton and skin.
When I was little I loved to rhyme and carry paper and pencil in hand
Sadly, momma discouraged me saying crunch numbers, math is in demand
However literature and poetry have always been my muse
when you look at me what you see
darskin ,brown eyes and sandy brown hair\
do see a big smile, with dark lips
someone thats not that tall
but stand so tall and proud
all the time
Lost inside something
That doesn’t exist,
Huddled in the corner,
Hiding my face.
Broken to pieces,
Glued back together.’
Stolen from my mind,
That piece that’s missing
Skin deep I'm blond,
so I must be dumb,
but my mind whirls faster than most.
Skin deep I wear skirts,
so I'm a crazy conservative,
but I'm quite liberal.
Skin deep I'm not skinny,
By Chanda Bynum
I see this girl
And she is a girl with straightforward eyes and blank expressions.
The Maker has sculpted curvaceous hips and thighs into her gene pool
I write to know that I am alive, I write to know that I feel... the pain, the loss, the sadness, the love...within the pages as they are inked. Imprinting what is real. The memories. I withold may fade over time.
What is beauty?
Well if I were to give the simplest definition I’d say you.
What is beauty?
Beauty is not so skin deep
That it can't be touched
by a mouse
on the screen of a nation
screaming for a change
As they reach inside
to push the self-destruct button
Blankly she stares out,
Wide-eyed at the broken world.
Trying not to scream and shout,
Yearning to be a normal girl.
Every day is Halloween.Put on my costume,Put on my face.Double check, Triple check to make sure I look happy.
From the outside they see a hardworking businessman, a wife that seems like she was plucked from the 1950's and a teenager full of bliss and happiness, but no one knows what happens when the doors close.
I saw her today for the first time
She seemed like she had existed for quite a while
Her face always a smile, a laugh on her tongue
I am 20 years young
With the power of a king
I am you
And you are me
But we're all the same if you read between.
Oh no
Wait just a minute
Did he say that
I know he didn't
Mirrror, mirror on the wall why must we look at ourselves through you and bawl? Why can't we always see our true beauty? What wicked games you play, tricking our minds this way! If I break you will I really have 7 years of bad luck?
We wish upon a shooting star, just to change who we are
Gaze among the stars so bright, just so we can see the light
I don’t know much about the world, economy, politics and what not
I didn’t know about slavery or racism at all for that matter
I didn’t know about Martin Luther King’s dream and how the conquest for Civil Rights
Her left hand rests palm-down against the mirror,this hand is relaxed in comparison to her fluttering mind.Who am I? She wonders.
Mirrors and mind contort what I see,
Skinny and thin is what I must be;
86 pounds just isn’t enough,
Starving myself is going to be tough.
Another glance into the mirror
Another day, another year
A coarse example of the person
Who is hiding under there
Day by day I face an internal outcry that rages
My mind never silent
I dream word of worry
I wake with panic
Day by day I am forced to face life in an undeveloped body
I am judged for my emotions
I'll start walkin' your way,
You start walkin' mine.
Best friends forever,
No matter how far away.
We'll find the means
To stay that way.
I'll start walkin' your way,
You start walkin' mine.
Remember when you were young and everything was…perfect?
Ugh. The word stings both tongues and ears.
Perfect…ha.
There’s no such thing as “perfect.”
It’s an idea, infectious and taunting.
Your eyes are small and round
They thin when you smile
See—liquid brown is their color, hated by most loved by me.
•
Loving you is-
Some tears say I’m sorry
Some beg please look at me.
Some tears ask just hold me.
Some tears say leave me please.
Some tears say help me… when I feel alone.
what should I do
which side to pick
in this battle
in my mind
that’s killing me inside
my heart chooses one
society chooses one
and I pick one
and I pick wrong
and I know it’s wrong
Pursuing that which I desire,
With strong will on my side,
I never tire,
Forever in love I am,
With people,
With knowledge,
With all of man,
But my mind knows no bounds,
dissappointment in her eyes
as she cries
looking at her ugly reflection, disgust at her thighs
an ache from what she ate
making her a little bigger than the skinnier girl, and she wonders why people like me hate
my reflection is looking at me
she’s examining every part her body
I watch as tears fill her eyes
she’s an abomination
Bandaids swirl around the sugar bowl
Brightly colored strips wearing white textures
A warm and worn comforter
Cocoa and petals inside motivation
Salt-flavored showers drain while blossoms begin stretching wide
I felt myself
drifting
flying
soaring
All eyes on me,
my mask adhered,
my smile plastered,
on plastic face.
What’s this feeling?
I felt the frost on my tongue, because I was growing young and the sun didn't shine from the words I spoke. I kissed a flower as I smelled a delicate perfume and walked in a cold garden among a cold world.
Every day she stares into her bathroom mirror for hours, questioning who it really is that is staring back.
Fear, such a small word yet it’s a huge feeling. Fear is something I am experiencing. I’m afraid to let my guard down only to be shot down again.
I see you looking down
Wearing a classic frown
I try acting like a clown;
But still your forlorn mounds
It is true silence does confound
To darkness you are bound
But I want you back!
I Am The Waves In The Ocean And The Roots Of The Trees.
I am wind and thunder and rain.
I am the image of my father, Kemet.
I am soil and breath and soul.
I am Africa personified.
In the way I walk
Success they say is in the eye of the beholder
But my beholder ignores the fire, recognizes only the smolder
My fire burns a different way and a different color
Because my thinking is just so unlike any other
