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Personification Beauty Poems | Personification Poems About Beauty

These Personification Beauty poems are examples of Personification poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Personification Beauty poems written by international PoetrySoup poets


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A Butterfly's Ballad in the Faraway Land

I get a glimpse of you A soft hue of light lavender rising in my dawn gliding fervently in sun-kissed breeze An ephemeral beauty enchanting the depths of these caramel eyes flaunting your gossamer wings in whimsical ballad sprinkling ethereal dew upon the embers of my heart And I feel it,a florescent flutter tickling my bare shoulder a slight inhale of fragrance's breath lingering within my thought chasing the back of my neck,teasing in wistful wonder My blushed smile preserves the moment Of your tender brush across the silk peach of my cheek Of your fervent kiss fading in evanescent bliss and unspoiled warmth of ardent touch upon my hair My heart capture the seconds till those iridescent wings fly high in sheer splendor to crimson blossoms which bloom,which sway which bleed and bend,which wrap their thorns around my feet,around my hand So,I would not follow dreams'coloured pastels So I would not run to you,and I would not find you by Spring's muddy gardens,in the faraway land. Contest : ' In the Faraway!!!' sponsored by G.Veneto Inspired by love and nature Written by- Charmaine Chircop

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At the Pawn Shop

I met her  in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of  my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due

There she lay sleeping in a battered rosewood bed
Heart strings breaking in a rusty sea of velvet red
So hauntingly beautiful, she took my breath away
Violin - an old reject who would change my life that day

So I bought Violin and lived out on the street
And played Rhapsody in Blue as coins fell at my feet
And soon we had a  little flat high above the Bay
And every day, I got better with every note I played

Today I am a maestro playing Carnegie Hall
My name in lights blinking on a Marquee Wall 
For it was I who saw myself in Violin
A tarnished soul and the beauty buried there within

Author:  Elaine George
Written:  2013

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dream catcher

Blooming before us, like dandelions sprouting in the spring.
Rising above and beyond, invisible during the day,
  Guardians at night.

Dangling up high as if it were puppets.
So close, mountains could give a kiss away.
Clouds form a dark, grey, thunderstorm,
Clapping and roaring vividly, like an applause.
The wind glides along in appraise.
The moon shivers and squirms, it smiles upon the stars.

A shooting star evolves, 
Leaving a trail of the dreams that sparkle in the dust.
Feeling pure joy, the
Moon erupts into a wall of tears. 
Water breaks the bond of the dreams attached to the star,
It slowly sinks down into the homes, in the rooms, 
Into the minds, of the beholder.

 It has now lost its dreams.
It now must watch the lives of everyday people,
And become one with the beholder.
It now must take dreams and guard them with its life.

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The Safety Valve of the Heart-w

A woman in rags with beautiful skin
Rusticity seen all over looking for a job 
To her the village sky was too small to win
She wanted to soar in a city sky to probe.

Moved to the city in one-room apartment
With her husband & daughter with wishes.
After some years the life gave a good start,
But her husband was attacked by paralysis.

Lying in a broken bed numb as a wound
She shed me deforming tiles of the rooms.
A life’s funeral procession was on its round
The man who loved her tore her to pieces.
She was still a beauty, accepted another
He made her laugh till she with joy me recall 
I gave her the feelings of a summer shower
She was happy that I was at her beck and call. 

As the time passed when her beauty faded
Embellishing her neck and wrists with jewels
Used rouge, kohl and hair artfully combed
No semblance of the beauty she was, Alas!

Heard the heavy steps on stairs in the night
Leading but to the bedroom of her daughter
I ran to help, heart torn, killed him with spite
Again cure for her was my salty taste and sweat.

I'm tear, multi-faceted emotions of heart much stressed
By happiness, grief, and pain when they are in excess.

Dr. Ram Mehta

Tenth place win in:
Contest: Personify a tear sponsored by HGarvey Daniel Esquire

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What It Is To Be Free

Not many see,
 What it is to be free.
What it is to amount,
 To make every day count.
Everything has a story,
 Though the place your at you say is boring.
There's more behind this rundown town.
 From the highest mountian,
To the streets unfound.
 Where children once played, 
And by their side their parents stayed.
 Where the sky may not shine as bright,
But to every darkness there's light.
 Where the creature's of the world find home,
While your complaining that the air's too cold.
 When you're strong, it shows,
Planing each day as it goes.
 Smiling and helping whoever you can,
Instead of moping about how much you hate this land.
 You can't change the way the trees sway,
You can't change what's already gone away.
 But the beauty of the world can take you in,
Make you see beauty like you should have when your life began.
 When you start to appreciate the little things,
Like the crickets chirping,
 And the songs birds sing.
You'll find all you needed has been there all along,
 Only then you'll see where happiness comes from.
If to see is to believe,
 Then there's belief all around.
From the starry night sky,
 To the flowers on the ground.
So many find pleasure in all the wrong things,
 Humanity has overcome,
Yet still falls apart at the seams. 
 We're so focused in on money and gold,
Before we know it our life has no meaning,
 Our skin becomes cold. 
It's never too late,
 And you're never too near or far.
To make the best of things,
 And be happy where you are.


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Beautiful Underneath

Young girl can't you see your beauty and your worth you have so much to offer to 
this world your beauty shines more than the diamonds and rubies combined why 
are you hiding it under all this raggedy shoes.

Turn away all those blues and make something of yourself use that brain for some 
knowledge and power.

You must not realize how much respect you can get with all that wisdom and how 
much you can take with you.

Physical beauty may fade but your innner beauty will always be the same as long as 
you allow it to stay that way be determined, be motivated and fight for what is 

Don't you see what you are robbing yourself of the value of your worth and the 
precious knowledge that lives in you the beauty that has been inherited in you 
speak positive over yourself.

Speak love, speak joy, speak dominion, speak glory speak all of this in the name of 
the Heavenly Father.

He will be your navigator, your rock and your protector.

So he will make this ride smooth sailing but remember that it may get bumpy along 
the way but he will be there to help you get through it.

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War is suffocating.
You see them run through a line of fire.

You wonder will they survive and then, you see others die before your eyes.

You stand and shout to someone familiar but no response came.
Therefore, vehemently you ran to not bleed again.

Would you make it out of this alive or would you die trying?
You would not remember either, when the life is taken from your eyes.

Stay positive!  Stay alive…

User Name: Verlena
Pseudonym: Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Motif: War (Epic)

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Heart of The Sea

The heart of the sea is a mother's heart
She is the great ancestral mother of all life on the planet
Deep within the mysterious waters of her womb
she conceived and gave birth to the first life form
which evolved into more complex organisms
that live on the land and in the air

She is an essential part of the planet's ecosystem
feeding the clouds which bring rain and snow
that sustain life on the earth
Through tiny ocean plants and photosynthesis
she removes carbon dioxide from the air
and converts it to more than one half of the oxygen
in the earth's atmosphere

She is the great food provider to the planet
having her own internal food chain
with tiny phytoplankton at the lower end
and enormous sharks and whales at the upper end
She feeds creatures from the land and air 
that venture to fish in her waters

She is a thing of beauty even in her enraged fury
with massive waves towering over a hundred feet
and the seething white foam of her waters
This has been her action
even before the advent of man on the planet
Man must respect her behaviour 
or suffer death and destruction if he does not

She is a thing of beauty in her calm stillness under the setting sun
which lights up the evening sky in its glorious splendour
and paints a glistening beam of light on the water's surface
in line with the sun and surrounds it
with brilliant colours of the rainbow

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I fly up so high
floating in the sky
watching below for my prey
If they knew they'd fear
for them death is near
This is part of natures way

I make my attack
hit the water smack
With my talons grab on tight
The pike in my grip
it will never slip
It is trapped within my might

Trying a form Dr. Ram's explained called an "Alouette"

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Fairy's Child

Completeness present in thy whole soul
purest it from fully present all,
elf creature by chance on earth
antique moment, thou simply took birth,

Wild eyes rough as gods,
equal thou beauty goddess, failing all odds,
wasn't earth fate to get thee,
but for us all, left thou fairy free.

Go goddess go ! fled to thy fairy land
or penetrate simple in light deep sand,
As this earth not for thee to dwell,
or ring to call you up thy eternal bell.

as these earthly creatures might sight the deep
or in thy odd compartments might they peep,
go to the heaven or near it,
or they escape thy each fairy bit.

akash sangwan

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The Old Tree

It is strange
how things that we see
and take for granted
in everyday life
should suddenly instil
in our minds
a new awareness
of their presence

A silent moment
a brief pause
from life's ever quickening pace
a moment of peace -
in times like these
a common thing
like a dried old tree
becomes alive with beauty

It stands like a quiet sentinel
who has witnessed 
many an event 
through time
Time has passed by 
but it remains 
silently standing there
O Tree!
What secrets do you store
in your noble branches?
How many events have you recorded
that man knows nothing of?

In your younger days
when you wore your mantle of green
you nested the carefree birds
to their offspring
you gave protection
When the sun scorched the earth
you gave them cool shade
On a cool windy night
you gave them warmth
How pleasant was their song 
to your ear 
as they sang a song of thanks
to you

You were a playmate to the children
When they romped at your feet
or climbed on your branches
you smiled
Time grew older
and the children became lovers
You saw them kiss in your shade
soft with the light of the moon
The aura of their love
touched your leaves
and you blushed

they have all gone away
but you still remain 
silent sentinel
still waiting and watching
How many untold events 
have you witnessed
faithful keeper of secrets?

O that my soul could commune with you
and share of your rugged beauty!
Most Noble Tree!
forgive me for my
once-waxen eyes

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The sunset bids 
quick goodbye.

It leaves behind
Orangey-red days,
Light-grey shadows 
That slowly dips into one's mind.

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Beautiful ones are dying

Beautiful ones are dying/
Directors on silent the film is sponsored by reality/
Voiceovers turn into scandals not propensity /
Actors with no clue they get glued in life's show their future is screwed/
Born raged their actions are so real/
Kill or be killed quest between scenes/
Poverty is more than the defining moment screams/
Hunger bleeding dreams with no makeup pencils/

A wakeup call before the final cut/
A turning point of a lifetime plot/
It’s a warm-up elevating hopes before credits/
Death too expensive/
No rehearsals nor sequels/ 
Dark clouded cameras carry life insurances/
Raining scenes on corruption’s free way and streets/
The cancer eating stunning extras/
Avalon cemetery the only Stadium Lavatory flushing off written off characters/
Beautiful ones are dying/

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The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.

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i don't even know her name

red is the colour of her hair
an unnatural red
taken from a bottle
and red is the colour of her flair
where men stare
and she graciously models

her red is such a lovely thing
it has a ring and even sings
her red has it's own style
unseen for miles not on the dial

beneath the hair
a stern beautiful face
she's of her race
and carries a polished grace

some women look better 
with their glare
forget the smile
that appears just once in a while

she stays just mostly to herself
guarding her wealth
her reverential status

and though she is fixed
with this aberration her sophistication
i give my admiration

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Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess Of The Moon

Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon, with your silver hair
That flows for eternity as on your beautiful silver steed speed
Across the huge sky; you use your beauty__ men to snare
How you've lured men for centures and their minds ensnare

Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon with flowing silver hair
Without a care on your beautiful silver steed ride on into eternity
Drawing all men, trap__luring to come and gaze with ease
Looking into the night sky they see your beauty as you ride by

Seemingly on your silver steed you rear up and stars
Flow into your trance and around your body they follow
Captivited by your beauty and magical pull into moon glow
How you have lured men for centures and them ensnared

Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess of the Moon, with your silver hair
That flows for eternity as on your beautiful silver steed speed

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The Perfect Woman

 Since I was a boy I have known of her . I've dreamed of her in my fantasies , I have visioned you in my thoughts.Never knowing why or how or 

where she came from, Just she was there .Not ever did I see her face ,but I've known all the while of her beautiful smile. Eyes of an Angel , I can  

see all the way to her soul. Hair that flows over her shoulders like a waterfall.  . Just a dream in my head , my imagination gone wild , but I have 

always known she would be mine one day , A goddess  I will cherrish as my Queen and love her with all my heart. Spoil her with gifts and 

treasures, what ever she likes .The girl of my dreams I have honestly seen .I have spoken to her  and it is exactly as it was suppose to be . She's in 

love with me. Oh and she is the prettiest thing, this woman thats always been in my dreams .I was put here to meet her and she to meet me . I have 

always been in her dreams ,that's what she's been telling me . A match made in Heaven is what she claims, a love forever , a happiness for life , a 

Joy in our hearts that makes our lives worth living. Every since I was a boy I have known her. This woman of my dreams.

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Light MOONlight

Moon of the night,
I wish you could sing
You're indispensable to my being,
You guide me through this land,
of sparrows and nightingales,
over the bottle-green grass,
rain or shine or snow;
You're there every night
and the wrens sing to you, 
contemplating you
and pondering on their thirst; 
and in your eyes they see, 
a lovely face, 
for you have a face, 
like all moons, 
sometimes different
but you have one face
A face that illuminates.

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Jealousy of Light and Shadow

He doesn't know
How lovely he is
But I see
How shadow and sunlight
Compete for him
I see
How shadow caresses;
How sunlight kisses
His cheek

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His Special Ability

Experiencing many different emotions, it is shocking to my soul.  Such an intense attraction drawing me in, surprising I am complete as a whole.

Finally full and complete within, a satisfation I've never experienced before. Finally someone able to find the hidden key, the only key that can unlock my safty door.

Gratified in every way possible, he has broken through the barrier I've been hiding behind for years.  Complete in life and in love, finally able to let go of all my fears.

With a smile on my face and happiness in my heart, my dream has come true.  He is my definition of perfect, from day one, my heart and head just knew.

He leads me through many exciting adventures, packed full of pleasant surprises.  Everyday he gives me something new, the intensity level constantly rises.

As the relationship continues, the emotions get more intense.  Surprising me every chance he gets, my suspense level balances on the fence.

It hit me like a tons of bricks, how fast I needed what he had to offer.  His eyes, his touch, his love and charm, made me a little softer.

Everyday I look forward to where this will lead, but I am excited as a couple what we have become.  Enjoying every moment as it's our very first, my heart constantly beats like a drum.

We have been through many trials and tribulations, with every memory I keep on replay.  DeShane, you are the one meant for me, in my mind, in my heart and in my soul, is where I want you to stay!

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Empress Crown As Queen

I am going on a trip because I need to spend a week away from these aspects.

Don’t burn that money.

Don’t waste it either.

I’ll spend it on something that I dislike.

It may be a venture but since I have spent my money, I can get high.

Clip art are my drawings and they are of beautiful megabits.

I think I am superfly so I play Rock & Roll all night.


Sheer excitement 

Escape to the highest heights of my imagination is when I know who I am and where I have been

Little am I and my jeans are tight.

With my big tits, I walk as if I am filled with sexual desire.

I see myself and smile.

My empire.

I’m feeling something that is so real.

I knew, if I lost focus, I lose my inner being.

So I give self a darn bulge, know that this is my world; therefore, I don’t lose the sensation.

The impression I give is that of confidence.

Self-asserted and assured, I moving up to finer things.

Handsome is the day and the night falls so lovely.

But I need to see what’s mine.

I need to see what belongs to me.

Strikingly, I find that I own so many priceless images.

A landscape I may pick to be serenity.

Or, a portrait is nice for the stillness.

I’ll plant a flower field to enjoy the contentment.

Equanimity is a silent panic.

I am just a being of the higher intelligence.

The noise is a clamor that does not last.

I will be the uproar of happiness.

Such a pleasure to have told you this.

If you want a replica, you may do the same.

That is joy in a virtual domain.

No more is the chance than any other government.

I have ruled this empire as long as I can remember.

Directions are easily to follow.

If you fail, I will not fail mines because all are downloadable.

I do not share my empirical secrets.

I am a régime of systems.

Simulated by thoughts that is pure.

Only I can be the downloader.

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Slam The Slammer

Just to touch the untouchable touches of reality’s toughest fingers prints 
Touching the untouchable weakness in multiple personal splashes 
The year has been a nightmare with no blankets
Birds get shot down with no mercy mistaken for nightmares
Rulers of rules hidden in hells’ only passage
Smelling power armpits
Coordinators of exposed blood suckers in gallons
Chaos now rule confusions

Slam you slam the slammers

The holder of telephonic microphones for decades
I am your seed nevertheless you hardly eat my healthy streams 
Can i slam your slams slamming all forgotten slams

The chimney in my neck is about to explode dark smoke
The only soap washing illegal sniffer dogs 
Nostrils that sniff private conversations
Wrap it and send it to majority of non-gifted slammers planting fast paced maturity
Drag the slam down your throat like murdered lyrics choked on purity 

The sickest abandoned words spraying choir practice effects 
Lyrical birds slam pages flipping wings waving brave slammers
Sheltered in the nest of fame chasers 
Apologies packed in jeans 
Truth compete on fashion parades

Lies are rated the greatest fashion ever designed
Models dress in scams and sexy metaphors spitting rudeness by force
Conscious is tattooed and spared for black days
Spoken word my shampoo
The only soap cleaning dirty secrets 
Life’s only barefooted spoken words typing injured bangs

Reports glorify honesty 
Speaking prophecy prophesy corrections of spoken slams  


The road rage winner awarded for speeding corrections 
Just to trace the untraceable touches of reality’s complicated fingers prints 
Moving the untouchable weakness in multiple personal splashes 
A drop of a burning smile heals a heart broken angel
I salute as you slam doors on spoken corrections                                                                                           
(c) Ray

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Loneliness and sadness
Are my constant shadows.
My unsolicited friends.
They keep me company
In times when no one seems to understand.
They chose me to be their companion.
But, in retrospect, did I choose them?
I always wonder.

Over the years,
I tried to secure 
     my joys
        my happiness
           my fulfillment
               my pleasure
                    even my blissful dreams.
But, I guess, 
I've been unsuccessful.
I have to agree to the terms.
This alone seems clear to me.

Resigned is myself now.
Bound to solitude.
Welcoming no one but silence.
A complementary trio.
The mind thinks of solitude
While the heart sings of silence.
Life is a dull mystery.

But, still, I care to tell
a small portion of what life is.
So, I call to them.
This mysterious loneliness,
That strange sadness,
They want to be heard.
     they hesitate.
A nod towards shame.
And, so
they curl up
like some caterpillar 
     taking refuge
          a dark cocoon.       
They breathe. 
They live. 
They thrive.
They become.
Like in some forest,
   carefully hidden.
The beauty is silenced;
                        confined within. 

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                                      THE SNAKE
The terror of  night;  the  terror of  day,
The longest creature on earth and sea. 
In length, I am fearful  to men, In  braveness, man worship me;
I have no hands non legs, yet I move faster than others.
In the garden,  where I was; man was my friend,
Until Satan borrowed my name;
I gave my name to him without considering  the future.

I am not the  serpent that steal your dominion  non  your enemy.
 I am in  pains as you are;  why do you  fearfully refused to eat my meat?
Only those that knows  my values  embrace my meat.      
In your markets  I am unpopular in demand, 
If you want to use me for shoe, Bags or  social entertainments;
You don’t remember that you once rejected me.
On God of creation, when will  you hear my cry?
The world is against me.  Who will vindicate me?
I need my name back, my honor  restored, my friendship with man back.
I need my legs and hands back, I am created as you are. 
If I have my hands and legs, man will not call me evil.
I am the pride of beauty, my products in your markets  speaks volumes;
In the rock, in the forest, in the cities, in zoos, in your sitting rooms   I am  there.
If you feared me, stop buying  products, stop having me as pet.
I have my pains, you have yours, I never accused man  of me  not having legs or hands,
Yet you blacklist me.
O h my God, come with the wings of healing and heal my hands and legs.
I am one of your creatures , look down upon me and wipe away my tears.
If my legs and hands are kept inside, how can I praise you as others do?
My shining skin, that added beauty to me are your works, 
 Looking  ahead, my future’s beauty reminds  me  of  thy wondrous  works. 
Written by
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe 

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She is bronze colored in complexion...
She is not too tall nor too small..
She is found along high rise buildings to sidewalks..
She dresses according to the 90's, to the latest moda...

She has her own unique style...
She has of brilliance undefined..
She has the hands soft to caress and rough to grip..
She has of eloquence: smile that soothes...

She is from the southeastern seas..
She belongs to islands of myriads history..
She comes from the land of the tropics..
She stands out among the crowd..

Empowered through high quality education..
Unbreakable by dozens of life experiences..
Molded flexible enough by Her culture 
Zest enough to face the whole world..

Wether in the most sophisticated way..
To the simplest servant you can see at home...
What makes her so captivated...
Her full blown nationality of being a Filipina...

© O. E. Guillermo

Sponsor	Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name	a poem you have not entered in a past contest # 11 
Placrf 9th


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Natures Nomenclature

Cool is the air, cool is the sea,
Everything seems splendid, like season of blee.
Being on the banks, how I wonder…
God has created our planet, with no scope of blunder.
Flows with a flow, our flowing river,
Deludes everyone in sunshine, the flow of the silver.
Sings on high notes, a group of lark,
Accompanied by blossom flowers, on branches of the bark.
Mountains touch the widest sky,
Like one’s imagination, with an ambition so high.
Unsteady is my state of mind, trying to flee,
Similar to the wave, moving in the sea.
Around me was everything like the air I breathe,
Now I can only see nature endeavoring death.
Responsible are we, for we spoiled the blend,
The world which is dooming, is by our dirty hand.
There is no other way except praying on our knee,
Oh dear nature! Please guide, as your children are we,
We will take in our hands, to spread the glory of nature,
Oh dear mother! Enlighten our way with your nomenclature.
                                                                  -‘Panchi’ Panchal Hitesh

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Why Should I

Was it enough or was it too much?
Sometimes too fast but always too slow!
God knows that I come with these seeds that grow.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that knows?
Stepping through time and sliding back so smooth so I go!
I say I can qualify!
Where was I and why was I there?
Sometimes too obvious but always with doubt!
God knows that I come riding in on a prayer.
I absorb every single touch inside and out,
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one that cares?
I say I can magnify!

What did I say and what did I do?
Sometimes too quite but always too loud!
Inside and out I absorb every single touch by you.
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one in the crowd?
I say I can intensify!
Do I want to or do you need me to?
Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I simply don’t care.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one with this view?
Up in the clouds and aimless but always led by you!
I say, “I SANCTIFY”!

®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich

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Drawn in Harmony

The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines. 
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next 
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm. 
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins 
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce 
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore. 

At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's 
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't 
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the 
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost 
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about 
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and 
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking 
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when 
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the 
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man, 
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going. 
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open 
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went 
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration 
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this 
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of 
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures, 
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air. 
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned? 
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.

Details | Personification | |

Sands of Shaybah

From a big 737's porthole looking down
upon rows of endless, barren mountains, 
from the clouds to the wadis I descend
unto thy waiting arms among the dunes. 

Far in the middle of a vast wasteland 
right in Arabia's remote Empty Quarter, 
searching for black gold hardy men toil
amid howling winds and scorching sun. 

As rugged machines wander wildly free 
like tireless armies of booms and steel,
proud towering rigs on lonely oil wells
bore deep into earth's generous bosoms.

In desolation removed from the world, 
striking symmetries on shifting sands! 
behold the shy beauty of prickly shrubs 
on quiet hillsides waiting for discovery. 

While hues of softly changing colors rest 
on sunlit peaks and hills by the shadow, 
footprints I will leave on yielding ground, 
faint traces that the wind shall soon erase. 

Oh, just to frolic in these steep slopes 
flat on my belly on a cardboard ship! 
amazed finding that by just being here
takes me back to a childhood long ago. 

Shaybah, in coming I did not conquer
for it’s you etching imprints in my brain,
marveling why beauty and riches often
lay hidden in isolation, it seems. 


Shaybah is a newly discovered oil field 
deep in Arabia's Empty Quarter, one of 
the most desolate places on earth.

Details | Personification | |

Prism's Hue

I the stained glass panel
Impeccable by craftful hand
Adorned with the color of rainbow
Stand tall but unviewed
You my dear are like the sunlight rays
The starlight's twinkle
You are like the moonlight beams
You shine through my hue
Prisming my heart’s colors to illumination 
Touching off Opalescent glass seen by all
For my soul now engulfed by thy beauty 
Made perfect with thy light
Viewed by all

Details | Personification | |

The Flower

Wither and die,
Said I, to the flower,
Your purpose in life is what?

To beautify,
To beautify the land?
Inquired I of the flower,
Would that be your reason for existence?

Wither and die,
Commanded I to the flower,
Should your beauty forever live?

Answer me!
Pleaded I to the flower,
What has your destiny shown?

Should your beauty thrive?
Should your beauty thrive forever?
Wondered I of the flower,
Or should the Earth wither and crumble?

Wither and die I shall,
Said the flower to me,
Should I live forever, only you may know.

Details | Personification | |


A pen to scribble and a paper to write,
Weak in strength, but strong in might,
What exactly do we find in these words?
Little piece of love, little freedom of birds.

Some imply a sense of justice,
While others find a social cause,
Many seek a patriotic adrenaline,
For others its solely a refreshing pause.

Rhyming, tuning, lyrically creating,
Melodies timeless through music,
Some find entertaining, others say boring,
While for some it is just a form of ''kick''.

Encouraging people into the struggle of life,
From domestic help to caring for wives, 
Making smiles on frowned faces,
Depicting meaning in life's different phases.

Expression of love, a wonderful way, 
To impress your love all night and day,
Not only to sweetheart, but for everyone, 
Making them realize their worth in everyway.

Evoking the harsh realities of society,
Provoking the truth of superstition cruel,
Awakening the masses to revolt against,
Freeding from the myths of orthodox rule.

The biggest question arises then,
What exactly do we want to convey?
Feelings, themes, emotions, rage?
With words stretching from page to page?

Or is it simply a poem to read?
Just alphabets arranged in order to make sense,
Or is it more than bunch of words?
Which makes a poem a perspective of viewing lens.

Details | Personification | |


For the Moon ne'er shined as brightly as the Sun 
That, alone, impulsed me to look up into its imperfect beauty 
We were alone-- different-- but always surrounded 
The Moon in her dark entity 
While I in my airless field 
There were many nights I spent with the Moon 
Some were clear 
Others were starless and cloudy 
Nonetheless I loved that iridescent figure I could ne'er reach 
I smiled upon her cratered beauty 
And the eccentrics of her pale-gray heart 
Though her Siren calls taunted my dreams 
The Moon would be full 
But it was all an illusion 
For when I ran to her --open arms-- 
She became quarterly, and finally half 
The Moon, I could ne'er hold as my own 
So I, as Wind, blew elsewhere onto the Earth 
Though she still smiles at me invitingly 
I try to look away, for there is no atmosphere where she resides 
But I must admit, the Moon and me --we dance occasionally 
For, as Wind --I am ne'er seen 
And as for the Moon? 
She ne'er shined as brightly as the Sun 


Details | Personification | |

I Am A Weed

I am a weed,
Why do you ask me to paint my face and nails?
Do you not see my beauty without the falseness of that view?

I am a weed,
No, not a rose, soft velvet pleasure,
Beautiful until you reach out to touch,
Her siren song lures you to the spiny web.

I am a weed,
Verdant, brilliant in my tenacious ability to survive,
My flower is more subtle, it is not that of the rose.

When in drought, my vibrant presence still endures,
During flood I grasp on to life with strong arms and legs,
My beauty is in my ability to adjust to life,
I hang on in the storm, as I am a weed.

Behold me, I am a weed, 
How can I help you understand me, cherish me as you do the rose?
Look within to see me as 
I grow in strength with each new challenge thrown my way.

I am a weed, I am not a rose,
Many are like me in this world,
Some surviving phenomenal events, 
Clinging to life as we know it, 
The beauty of our spirit lies within.

Details | Personification | |


This fragile glass strongly stands
The glazier gave it life through breath
With simple tools and fiery ways
A work of art is now conceived

This work of art two purpose holds
Champagne inside, beauty is seen
Bubbles bursting at the brim
No end in sight, they keep arising 

One child’s touch began this fall
Who’s outcome matched a giants strength
With no beauty nor purpose holds
This broken glass aches to be whole

Details | Personification | |


Have you ever noticed how people smile at newborn babies? 
Why? There is a beauty about them which stands up and demands attention. 
There also is an extraordinary beauty in you. We spend most of our days mean- mugging 
(looking mean), fake smiling and laughing at communication that is really not funny. 
What about looking in the mirror and smiling at you every now and then? Those radiating 
lips, gorgeous multi- skin colors and unique backgrounds. 
The drive you possess which makes you more than one woman. 
                  A Wife, Girlfriend, Mother, Diva and Business Woman. 
 If the lady of the house is unhappy the whole house is unhappy.  
The strength to give birth and mental stability to raise a child in the way he or she should go. 
You pray for everybody else but what about praying for you? 
You care for everybody else but what about caring for you? 

 People say you are crazy if you talk to yourself and answer. 
Well, I have discovered for myself most of the time I receive the best solutions. 
Anything that is destined to better you will be talked about and challenged. 
I have also discovered you are worthy to smile with and at yourself.

Details | Personification | |


A ruby is a gemstone,
Gemstones are cut; not a gentle process,
They are polished; a lot of friction,
Then buffed; gentler, but creates heat,
Then they sparkle and shine.
They are put on display; esteemed as precious.
A ruby is multifaceted,
The many facets bending the light,
Creating a shimmering sparkle,
That dances with the light,
And the movement of the gem.
Too few facets and there is less bending of the light,
Too many facets and the gem is unable to bend the light properly,
There is a balance.
A ruby is a strong gemstone,
Not as strong as a diamond,
But stronger than many other gems.
I wonder what the ruby really feels while it is being processed?
I wonder what the ruby feels when it is viewed as a thing of beauty and value?
I am a multifaceted Ruby.
One day I shall be a finished product,
Of some beauty and value.

Details | Personification | |

Luna's loom

The Luna’s loom
… The zenith of zoom

She stands strong,
 Staring from the skies
In beauty and glamour
…Clad in a short hunting dress

Armed with an alluring bow
With a quiver full of arrows
To hunt the evil men and women
… She guides her colorful chariot  

She is the goddess of healing
 The beauty of our celestial ceiling…
~ For Luna's contest~
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Metha

Details | Personification | |


Butterfly, your beauty shifted persuasively
no one dares to paraphrase your mystery
your rebirth is your unspoken myth
you are the beauty that is left behind

your body is vulnerable
with wings as delicate as snowflakes
you get lonely in this weird yet wonderful world
in no doubt, you are not the only one

it is so lovely to see
in this fairy tale, you are the real Cinderella
others used to disgust on what you looked like
but underneath your blurry mask, your charisma is a mind-blowing

butterfly, don't reach the sky too high...
or you may fall and lose your charm
butterfly, don't just come to say goodbye
your beauty is a gift in this world of harm

please stay for a while
released us from heartache and worry
then you can just passed us by