Death of Beauty

Just poems

Love me not for what you see, my dear,
or for that which you can touch & hold.
For I'm not immune to the wrath of time,
you day, I too will grow old.

My thick auburn locks will turn to gray
and my youthful glow will have faded.
My vibrant smile, like a flower, will wilt,
and once sparkling eyes will seem jaded.

My skin might look like an ill-fitting suit,
and gravity will cease to be a friend.
Wrinkles will devour my pretty face,
leaving my looks a memory, in the end.

So love me not for what you see, my dear
let what is unseen be why.
Love beyond what you can touch & hold,
for one day my beauty will die.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just some thoughts as I grow older...

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youth N revolt

Calling all youth
We will be silenced no more.
Its time to break our silence and find our voice.
They say we are lost,
But this generation has yet to be found.
Unleash the chaos from within.
Time is aginst us,
But we have fight.
No longer will we be held under control.
We demand revolution.
We are youth in revolt.

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When the fire of life and passion burns out


The dead roses of december lie at the foot of the grave of our love
the passion rots away in the cold dark earth of anger
the bones of sorrow remain long after the flesh is gone
and forgotten in the fog of time, is the union of life and youth..

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Bixi Girl

Lithe Writing

I spread the houses
like a blanket
On the grass
Laying soft against plaid baskets
Off the track
An aimless ribbon of tar and shoes
Trailing behind your summer jeans
In the yard

And I climbed mountains
Clanging footfalls
In the stands
Where I chased the score:
Our idle hands,
Your restless skirt
Laughing, Wiped melted sky

The sun, a hopeful cradle
For my head sharing
Ice cream
Sunglasses framed in white
A song in one seat in the back of
A car on the way home
On school nights
To your house,
An alabaster chest
Locked with streaming lamplight
Resting on the bottom
Of a starry

In the suburbs

They're all just fingers
But these are my own
Running on
Through the sky
To a Christmas tree city,
Our high school town

And there I was
In the grass forever
A photo on the shelf
Long after I was gone

Here, I am an aquarium
A sprawling tree on your street.
And you are the nightly golden
Eyes of home

Author's Notes/Comments: 

*Bixi is a name for a stone tortoise that, starting with the Han Dynasty, was used as a pedestal for tablets listing the deeds of emperors and dignitaries. They were often used in funerary practices.

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Leave Me Forgotten,Think of Me No More.

My Love

Life, Love, Truth
Beautiful things giv’n me in my youth
But I wasted them all away.


Your love, your eyes, your kiss
All of the things that I miss
But I never made you stay.


Glances, chances, charm
Who knew they could bring such harm?
I left your spirit to soar.


Death, time, rotten,
Please leave me forgotten,
Think of me no more.

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We the Youth; as One


To you, young rebel;
Soak your passion in gasoline 
Let it blaze
Make your emotion burn the sky

To you, young rocker;
Make your guitar scream out
Play it loud
Plug in and turn your amp high

To you, young poet;
Let your heart bleed out
Stain the pages with emotion
Make the world feel what you feel

To you, young scholar;
See the things that are yet unseen
Discover new facts
Be the leader that we need

To you, young dreamer;
Keep listening to your heart
Hold on to desire
Let your dreams and ambitions inspire

We are the youth
Unrestricted, wild and free
Tomorrow we are the leaders
And tonight we are one.

With heads held high
Fists raised in the air
We will revolt.

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Stumbling and shivering
Squinting and screwy
Alone with some familiar faces
Wanting warmth, attention, flame
Fuzzy memory, bare legs
Feet were aching so much pain

Walking back close and chummy
Led me up to his room
Mixed emotions stirring inside
Nervousness, excitement, everything alive
Acrid taste of beer and cigarettes
Spearmint gum to cover the complex

Deep, warm caressing kisses
Falling in love for a moment or two
Twin-sized bed in a messy, dark bliss
I became an object through my sloo
Nothing special just another name on his list
Hate that moment I choose all of this

Liquor drowning morals
Reasoning not there
Nothing but the heat of my soul
One thing leading to another
No emotions, no love
Unwanted pushes and shoves

Everything entirely uncertain
Sweat, kisses, pain, satisfaction
Holding me tight to make it okay
Inside I cried and didn't want to lay
I can call him a stranger
Nothing more than taking my pure

Innocence gone in that night
A secret I gave and that I'll keep
I imagined love to shine so bright
Wrong because it wasn't a treat
He can keep my virginity, keep my youth
A night I'll forget and erase the truth

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The Lost Youth

The Lost Youth

Ever seen the sheep ,tied to the pole?
gaily grazing within the limits,
gifted by the ropes, so short..
thanking the master for the treat.
does the poor soul know its fate?
to be milked, till her udder dries..
then ,she sees the knife so sharp
recalls the joy in masters eyes,
when the grass had made her plump..
too late too late it is now,should have
broken loose, when still YOUNG.
thus ends the tale of many a sheeps,
who had opted to live ,with the flow

Roshan N

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the state of present day youth

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I am the master programmer, you are my new creation, the perfect soul;
the Artificial Consciousness I have planted planted deep within.
In my image, I have made you, my sons and daughters.
In my name, you shall breath life, you shall touch and feel, you shall have life and give life.
So as long as you obey my laws, you will never to know death or war, or feel the fire of the bomb.
You are the youth of the generation of living A.I.
Take the words I have given you and let them fill your memories.
I am the master programmer, your father; your creator and your salvation.
Welcome to the mainframe, the sanctuary I have prepared for you.

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