What inclines
What makes the brimming Spring
brace the exposed
So immaculate, so chaste
as though as virginal
But if a gaze is that of a masculine power
Would you rather I came bare or covered?
The aim is what you’re always bothered with
That what is watching
is always wondering what lies under it all
To unruin the already ruined,
or stretch out my frame
To rehabilitate, renovate, or extend
If you weigh what’s mine and what it counters
How can I please feel bothered
Sat inside the shared-house
Roaring walls of desire cry out
for more time, rewiring,
and something to buy her
Like a capricious child
acute in acquiring
the preciousness of cute
They eye her
The quiet space seemed inviting
The space between the pilot of the vessel
and the smileless wrestle
of fear and courage racing each other
till the winner meets the sighting of the reflection
Nevertheless I’m trying
So I bite on some dried fruit
Soya milk
And guess I’m about to go with it
The whole of my ensemble
could do with another note in it
A little change of rote
Not estranged –
still resembling the strength that I came here with
The lines that I draw
are not there to shame the lands that they claim
Rather rhyme with them,
with the aim of acclaiming the finery
of the apricots and pines
aligned so divinely
within the arches of my eyebrows
The lines that I draw
Rhyme with them
Marking vows that reverberate inside humble shrines
whose walls are not man-built
but not quite yet gilded either
Still need to feel the resonant power
of a self-love bible
and meet the preacher
that will treasure the space they hold
for what it is and is not
I take the tweezers
and sign a defining affirmation:
This sand
the land, and the nation, is mine
And it’s fine to do whatever I favour
For the hand brings bliss
And it’s what I’ve been missing
Can you hear the arriving waxwings singing?
The ringing in your ears
heralding the reminder
this budding delivery
is an attribute of my own fingertips
Shipping from the same residence
Equipped with the same energy
Merging in awe
Married
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll >
< llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
Oookay, guys;
- this is quite a rough diamond I am trying to polish here for my uni arts project.
It is supposed to be voice recorded (by me, the author) and used as a narration for a short video I am doing:
The piece is attempting to addressing people who tend to examine and speculate on one's beauty standards and modes of expression; themes being femininity and self-identification / presentation, which will involve shots of me dressing up in the morning, and some cross-edits with nature motifs.
Never been into much poetry, so feel free to bring out your chisels and hammers, and dig some sense into me as to how this is going, because I do want to improve my craft!
Title suggestions are very welcome as well.
Cheers
What makes the brimming Spring
brace the exposed
So immaculate, so chaste
as though as virginal
But if a gaze is that of a masculine power
Would you rather I came bare or covered?
The aim is what you’re always bothered with
That what is watching
is always wondering what lies under it all
To unruin the already ruined,
or stretch out my frame
To rehabilitate, renovate, or extend
If you weigh what’s mine and what it counters
How can I please feel bothered
Sat inside the shared-house
Roaring walls of desire cry out
for more time, rewiring,
and something to buy her
Like a capricious child
acute in acquiring
the preciousness of cute
They eye her
The quiet space seemed inviting
The space between the pilot of the vessel
and the smileless wrestle
of fear and courage racing each other
till the winner meets the sighting of the reflection
Nevertheless I’m trying
So I bite on some dried fruit
Soya milk
And guess I’m about to go with it
The whole of my ensemble
could do with another note in it
A little change of rote
Not estranged –
still resembling the strength that I came here with
The lines that I draw
are not there to shame the lands that they claim
Rather rhyme with them,
with the aim of acclaiming the finery
of the apricots and pines
aligned so divinely
within the arches of my eyebrows
The lines that I draw
Rhyme with them
Marking vows that reverberate inside humble shrines
whose walls are not man-built
but not quite yet gilded either
Still need to feel the resonant power
of a self-love bible
and meet the preacher
that will treasure the space they hold
for what it is and is not
I take the tweezers
and sign a defining affirmation:
This sand
the land, and the nation, is mine
And it’s fine to do whatever I favour
For the hand brings bliss
And it’s what I’ve been missing
Can you hear the arriving waxwings singing?
The ringing in your ears
heralding the reminder
this budding delivery
is an attribute of my own fingertips
Shipping from the same residence
Equipped with the same energy
Merging in awe
Married
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll >
< llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllOookay, guys;
- this is quite a rough diamond I am trying to polish here for my uni arts project.
It is supposed to be voice recorded (by me, the author) and used as a narration for a short video I am doing:
The piece is attempting to addressing people who tend to examine and speculate on one's beauty standards and modes of expression; themes being femininity and self-identification / presentation, which will involve shots of me dressing up in the morning, and some cross-edits with nature motifs.
Never been into much poetry, so feel free to bring out your chisels and hammers, and dig some sense into me as to how this is going, because I do want to improve my craft!
Title suggestions are very welcome as well.
Cheers