No Filter
Learn more about other poetry terms
No such thing as flawless, perfect, peerless;
Only fallen varmints grubbing helpless,
Guided by old books to find redemption
And some vindication from above.
Perfect spirits all alike and charming,
Judge me.
Love me.
I really don't care.
This is my story,
bias or fair.
I'll tell you how it is,
Behind the curtains of my eyes
Hides a glare
A stare
A lie
The carefully crafted façade
The fragile, cheap disguise
Behind a mask lies another
Feeble layer of an onion
I'm not going to start this off with the typical line of "Who am I?", because I know who I am.
i am not flawless
with a filter i can become
a diffrent person
no more filters
no more being someone i am not
it is time to break away from society
i am only human
a beautufl human.
First thing's first I smirk instead of smile
This is who I am with #NoFilter
The latter done only once in a while
When I laugh by cause of my mister
Fond of all that is medicinal
That is what we all want to see when we look in the mirror.
Perfection is nothing short of a dream.
You been through it all
Hiding dirt stains
Under the make up of your new self
Ring your body out and there is nothing
Because your emotions are ran dry
I remember
The middle of November
Back in seventh grade
In biology
We were taught to see
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My name is Nick
But for some odd reason
Some call me Nickypoo
This is my motivation.
I see myself in that girl with scars on her wrist
In pain, but ignored daily by family and friends
And she’s told by others that she can stop anytime she wants.
Without the filter I am weak.
The filter makes me feel strong.
Without the filter I do not belong.
The filter makes me feel like one of you.
Without the filter I am blue.
When I was in the fourth grade
I walked up to my dance teacher and said,
“I am African-American.”
She promptly spit out the water she was drinking and replied,
“You’re half black?”
Following what society thinks is right
I try to alter my camera light.
This will create the most optimal picture,
And allow me to avoid the tedious stricture.
Pictures are only one side of me,
I’m complicated,
Yet easy to read.
I may be a follower,
But I can easily lead.
I am everything you wished for,
And nothing you can picture.
I’m the lethal disease,
You ask me Who I AmBut it should be I who asksWho You Are.You who hides your facebehind a maskcarved and paintedto create you nameI came to youLike a blank canvas.
Who am I?
No filter flow, who am I
I am an extrovert and an introvert I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing and a sheep in wolf’s clothing
I need to post an insta pic for today!
Do you have an instagram?
Oh, post that on instagram!
Wait, not yet. I need to wait until 9 PM.
That way, I'll get more likes.
What hashtags should I use?
Some people contest with me about my own identity,
As if I were a defined word they knew, that I was not keen on understanding.
A SINGLE MOTHER OF THREE
ONLY ADJUSTING TO THE INCREASING CHANCE TO BE
NOT ACCEPTING OTHERS PLANS FOR ME
UNADJUSTED TO FINER CURRENCY
IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR ME TO MAKE IT
BUT I CAN NOT DIE
Standing on a precipice, uncertainty resting in my throat with the ever looming promise of turning malignant.
Standing in the back of the room, paralysis nesting in my hands, crawling down my legs to root me in place.
I have to dress this way.I just have to; I do.All of the pretty girls wear this make up anyway.So I will start to, too.
My name is Namirah and I am known as the middle child.
When people meet me they certainly don’t know I can be wild.
It comes without effort
Yet it takes so much effort
With the light it becomes burdensome
In the dead of the night is where I find comfort.
Around noon everyone seems to "care"
A picture tells a thousands words,
but can you read the emotions behind each smile?
Can you hear the hardships that their eyes express?
My wide bright eyes that seem to shine like the sun turn to dark clouds of gray.
The days gone
And I am tired
I woke up refresh
but now it's time to
retreat into the after hours.
Back into my bed sheets
with no makeup on
my thoughts are right there
Fresh out the shower
Kinky curls so soft and bouncy
Flowing everywhere as it dries
Creating a giant afro of curls
I look in the mirror and lather on lotion
I get dressed and grab my phone
"I" is edgy, "I" is hot.
"I" is exciting, "I" is loud.
"I" is daring, "I" is spontaneous.
I am not "I". I am a completely different me.
I am easily entertained. I am self-conscious.
I am quiet. I am nervous.
My words without a filter,
They are pulses ripped from my heart,
They are thoughts carefully caught from the darkest depths of my brain,
They are not affected by this so called casual speech that many people engage in
I want to help out someone who falls get back to their feet,
I want to make a difference.
I want to help guide someone who may be lost along the way,
I want to make a difference.
clearly you see me;
standing fierce,grinning through sweat,
sun stained,salt eyed, strong.
All my life I’ve hidden behind books,
But who am I without them?
Am I athletic? Funny? Do I have looks?
I’m searching for myself in all my brain’s nooks
I have accomplished a lot in my lifetime:
We live in an age of desperation
We're in a constant war but not with other nations
We fight ourselves on everyday situations
We're born in a bubble deprived of sensation
Life made of misconceptions
Ignore the norms, that's what I do,
Phones and makeup, hair and shoes.
Filters I suppose I keep -
I keep up my modesty,
I won't swear and I won't lie;
Plain and simple is my style.
Who am I
Behind the filter of a picture
I am a man with very much to remember
I have a story that is not yet over
Black man living past 18 is the luck of a 4 leaf clover
The story that is not told
Filter of life
As humans we tend to get stuck in being who people want us to be,
What is wrong with being me?
Well for starters, I am a girl
Trying to understand all of life's whirls
All the while, growing up with many distractions,
You start your day off with no filter
Then look in the mirror and see a flaw
The flaw no one notices but you
Your heart drops with insecurity
And so does your self-esteem too
There’s a woman there, I can see her.
She stands out to me, it’s her eyes.
Something about the way she’s staring back at me grabs me.
There's words in my brain
The pressure's buildin' up
They gotta get out
My filter gives up
I wake up every morning asking myself Is that really you?
Why was I born this way?
all these flaws I see in the mirror looking at myself
could I change these flaws?
There once was a girl,
Who talked to trees.
She would spend countless hours
Under their protection of evergreen leaves.
Her mind would wander,
It's the way she walks,
It's the way she flips her hair,
It's her voice, her smile, her laugh,
It's her ambition, her edge, her confidence,
It's the fire in her heart,
A world filled with color has been replaced, the image you long to touch has suddenly been erased. A vivid imagination when making colored creations, a world different from ours that couldnt be put on paper. But who am I?
How does it feel to be trapped behind a screen?
In a world without dimension where perception is key.
We iron our hair and puff out our lips in hopes that they don’t see
What’s real?
I'm naked,
I'm vulnerable.
Having no angle,
no light,
no control,
I'm doomed to the undenying horror of my reflection.
The world is just one masquerade. We hide behind masks of color. The color that disguises our true self, And makes us perfect for society. No filter shows my true self. The imperfections in my face, They are no longer in a guise.
Dark hair. Tall enough. Slim body and big eyes.
Small cut on the left eyebrow but brow liner does the trick
Mascara and a pale face
Tender smile with clumsiness all around her
Filters mask our true faces,
Travel and filters matter less in far away places.
Take away all the edits,
Behind all the sarcastic wit,
You will find a young woman trying to make herself fit.
I am kind
but sometimes blind
to those around me
i feel like most never shine
oblivious to all
i talk to my self
but almost no one else
I am not ok with with
my own being
Through an Instagram lens its often hard to see the bigger picture
Every post is worth a thousand words
And some of them are meant to injure
People think filters are bad but but they're not
filters keeps a good young girl from becoming a thot
they keep our nasty parts inside
protect us like bear hide
and keep us from getting shot
In the mirror I can see,
Without a doubt of certainty
Someone that's just trying to be--
To simply be,
And that is all we need to be.
Where did what's right and what's beautiful become so intertwined?
When did I becomed defined only by my jaw line?
Why does #MasterCleanse and #LookingThin appear more than #Eating and #LetLoose?
Born into a world of filters
Everyday i add filters to my life
Now i remove these
Shedding the shields i use to protect myself
I am vulnerable
I am scared
Uncertain of the future
I am everything I could ever ask
When time flits away my inner beauty thrives
Guiding me to the infinite fountains
So who is the man in the mirror?
The real one- you know? The one behind the filter
hidden away, disquised
because no matter how hard he tries...
There is something different--
Without Filters, her voice is heard and understood
Without Filters, She's not depicted as a slut trying to get attention
But as just a teenage girl hanging out with friends or at her local library-
Behind bright white smile,
is a someone not worth while,
behind my uncontrollable laughter,
is someone who wants to be happier,
behind all the pics,
is someone who makes me sick,
behind what you see,
I've only been authentic on paper
Never have I spoken a filter-less word
or acted in a genuine way.
It dawns on me now
how little the face I was born with
is associated with the person cultivating inside me.
You cannot quell me
I am a one-man revolution
Built like a scorpion,
Indestructable--
You can freeze me
But I'll eventually
Come to,
Breaking free from the ice in a frigid
Frenzy,
Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush,
Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
Snap !
Zoom, get centered more, then delete.
Twenty to fifity shoots until we get the one that is unique.
Taking photos for others to critique.
