Bears
in the morning grove
a stout man would be a bear
his care in sitting as I look
with my hide of a good face
Poems on the topic: face
Poems on the topic “face” on Poets.by.
Face to face
looks hide the whole face
but in bed we could see
and all night a cold wind
blowing through the windows
Oceanologist
I do not yet understand the sea.
A cunning fellow
can put on several faces,
but what world is this
without dissimulation
to meet a cliff and laugh?
Mirror, mirror
I order
so I may have order,
like a rogue king talking
to his own face:
that he was not received with respect,
that he was a traitor.
Longing
all morning in books
and other places
a far face
[Skype haiku]
LCD screen:
when I touch her face
there’s a ripple
Faces
In between the sporadic bursts
Between the heckling customers
The intimidating bosses
The gossiping colleagues
In between the drudgery and monotony
I doodle faces on bits of paper.
Faces of men and women
Full face and left profile –
I have grown up with these people
Though they remained the same -
Adults passing through youth.
From behind notebooks, inside novels
Corners of text books and on pages left blank -
From every possible piece of paper
These Picasso profiles stare up at my face.
Most of my women are beautiful;
Deaf Ears, Blind Eyes
just looking at your face three desks away
i can tell you're different
beautiful
alive
but that also means you stand out and i can't
won't
be noticed again
so i ignore every glance and subtle touch and passed along note
hoping you'll get the hint and stop
hoping you won't
Sonnet for Second Glances
You talk so much of busy trains,
the heat, the harsh florescent light
and how they fall upon the brain.
I would have thought that such a sight
would be a poet’s paradise —
the many varied histories,
the pointless pockets of a life
all written on the identities
of passenger faces. Each look
reveals another form of you
returning the gaze; and each nook
conceals the chance for something new.
But, perhaps, you only perceive
the busy train you want to leave.
I do not look at me
I do not look at me
In the mirror much these days.
This bald pate,
This fleshy, swarthy face
Except to brush teeth
And the vexing necessity to shave.
I do not see me in the mirror
Just the yellowing teeth
And the graying stubble.
I do not need a mirror anymore
Having seen me for
Half a century and more.
I know me well enough.
But the occasional glimpse -
When my eyes meet my eyes-
Tired, watery, dead -
When I See Your Face…
My eyes light up,
A smile is instant,
I bounce with excitement,
When I see your face,
In a crowded room,
It’s all that I see,
My pulse begins to quicken,
When I see your face,
Thoughts enter my mind,
Romantic images then displayed,
In a dream-like trance,
When I see your face,
Confusion dominates my ponderings,
As a confrontation is made,
Uncertain of what to feel,
When I see your face,
iridescent freckles
The day I got close enough to see the minute iridescent freckles across your face
was the day that I discovered my new favourite place.
A spot right in front of you,
a world built for two.
But what happens when the world wasn't built for you,
but instead was built for people who, when I think about;
are almost taboo.
it feels wrong to know
that you love another
that you're so immersed in her
just like how i used you to make my emotions smother.
It's sad to know,
that the paint on the walls will dry
faster than the tears your beautiful eyes have made me cry
oh, to feel comfortable in my favourite place again,
to love you without betraying a friend.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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