Choosing the right mask helps you... We went through many masks. It was very particular leather that as soon as you smudged it, you had to get a new one. We went through about 55 masks.
quote by Gerard Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Where Have Gone Those Masks?
Where have they gone?
All those masks of the past!
Many masks hiding faces of the ones clever.
One was of love pure,
Another was of friendship innocent
And another was of care entwining.
Those masks had a power
That mesmerised the weak minds for some time.
Where are those masks?
No one sells them as the marketeers
Don`t have much to fill the wallet
From these little transparent masks now.
Masked faces have faded out from amidst us all
And there walk many without faces at all!
The poet himself has none.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Behind the Mask...
Don't be fooled by the mask that I wear,
Throughout my journey I wear many masks,
Masks I am afraid to live whithout,
I reveal only what I'm comfortable with,
Whilst hiding the naked heart of me,
Yet all of these masks have become me,
Pretense an art form I know so well,
Don't be fooled by my boldness,
Look past the surface to the emotions within,
To the soul that cries in silent pain,
A boundless well of passion waiting to be tapped,
Loves flame waiting to devour the gentle breath of reason,
All this I hold for you... Behind the mask...
Spread the love... The peace will follolw...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Right Mask
One night a poem came up to a poet
From now on, it said, you must wear a mask.
What kind of mask? asked the poet.
A rose mask, said the poem.
I've used it already, said the poet,
I've exhausted it.
Then wear the mask that's made out of
a nightingale's song, use that mask.
Oh, it's an old mask, said the poet,
it's all used up.
Nonsense, said the poem, it's the perfect mask,
still, try on the god mask,
now that mask illuminates heaven.
It's a tight mask, said the poet,
and the stars crawl about in it like ants.
Then try on the troubador's mask, or the singer's mask,
try on all the popular masks.
I have, said the poet, but they fit so easily.
The poem was getting impatient,
it stamped its feet like a child,
it screamed. Then try on your own face,
try the one mask that terrifies,
the mask only you could possibly use,
the mask only you could wear out.
The poet tore at his face til it bled,
this mask? he yelled, this mask?
Yes, said the poem, yes.
But the poet was tired of masks,
he had lived too long with them,
he snatched at the poem and stuck it in his face.
Its screams were muffled, it wept, it tried to be lyrical,
it wriggled into his eyes and mouth.
Next day his friends were afraid of him,
he looked so distorted.
Now it's the right mask, said the poem, the right mask.
It clung to him lovingly and never let go again.
poem by Brian Patten
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Masks
Different masks some people wear
Pretending to be true.
They really don't care
If you are sad or blue.
They put on a mask of Friend
And try to let you down.
They are amazingly sad when you are up
And feel so happy when you are down.
Some people wear the mask of Kindness
Which is the most horrible one.
They just kill you without any gun.
They tell you kind words
To relax your vigilance
Looking only for their own conveniance.
And after all they run away
Leaving you alone on a crossway.
There is a mask of Faithfulness
Which sells you as a good
And you live in ignorance like in a dark wood.
There is a mask of Love
That breaks your heart in pieces,
It talks about love without any ceases,
And sounds like a dramatic art
Without any feelings
It waits for your kneelings.
The mask of Tenderness is a vile thing,
The sweetest songs it sings
But only disappointment it brings.
Horrible mask is a mask of Duty,
It is sometimes so cutie.
It shouts hurrays and the next day it betrays.
There are so many masks some people wear,
All of them are different
But...they are all indifferent;
To your life, your feelings, your love.......
All the masks I named above
Have the same profiles
Even having different styles.
They betray, they ignore, they lie,
They don't even care if you die.
But they forget one thing:
The mask of Death is the only one for all.
That's all!
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Undress me! ! ! ! !
Living under a cover
Hiding me.....
Undress my emotions
I want to break free
The inside clown
Long left the stage
Under his mask
A human disguised
Friend, foe or love
This human decides
Changes identity
Changes faces
Amidst the crowd
Masks to change
How do i select? ? ?
When i've lost the clown......
Humans are not unique
Indeed not
Carrying their masks along
Identical and fake
My lost identity
Glued with masks
Shed me off this burden
Undress me
Undress me............
poem by Royston Serrao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Spaces Some Silences
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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41
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is a career of make-believe, of masks. We all have masks in life.
quote by Judd Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Masks
We all wear masks to hide
our feelings from fleeing outside.
Sadness from years gone by
are masked with jubilant joy,
heartaches that we feel inside
are masked with a smile.
We mask all the emotions
we don’t want the world to see
we hide them behind
the opposite emotion
of that we really feel
in hoping they will help.
Every emotion has an opposite
and it is these we hide behind.
When our troubles
and tears overflow,
we turn to our masks
for something to wear.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twisted Masks
Sick in the head
Sick in the mind they'll call me
The hypocrites who lie about their masks
they see not because they look not
who i am is who i choose to be
masks filled my face from inch to inch
tell me who i am you sick twisted soul
thinking you know my heart like its gold
twisted time engraves upon ones heart
like sadness on the face of a clown
does my face shine that masks so
but who am i to twist the facts of life?
poem by Branden Aeling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Joy?
What is joy
If the teacher’s cane
Comes out of classrooms joyfully
Hugging conmen and murderers!
What is joy
If the temples' doors swallow
Society’s deviants to let out masks
On masks for masks joyfully!
What is joy
If our Orchard’s nurses,
Rains chase away to woo for pay
Rain’s waters by the riverbanks!
What is joy
If our fathers and mothers
Sow their bedrooms and roses
In the courts' law lords!
What is joy
If our chosen captains
Sail on these courses of woe,
Our only nation’s Ark!
What is joy
If you’ll hear and bemoan these
Just tomorrow’s nights to find you
Camped against your vows!
What is joy
If you hate my voice
To yearn for it when ruined in the next
Ship-wreck you can salvage!
Explorations: XIV
The mask,
Yes it's thin
And transparent
You can see
The facial contours
And the profile too...
The magic mask
Masks my pretensions
My stifled breath
My muffled tears
My dark(er) side too...
You know,
I needn't wear it everyday
It's come as part of
The birth-package!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone in the Crowd
Eternal subservience
To the controlled insanity
What a prim and proper reason
To wish to break away
"But no! " the "heroes" faintly cry
As you try to flee their bounds
"Why don't you enjoy it here?
Are you not fond of crowds? "
All their masks are all the same
As they expect a fine reply
But their conformist tunnel vision
Finds truth within your lie
Satisfied the huddled mass
Through life circumambulates
Leaving you with a plastered mask
And immense amounts of hate
"You fool! How could you? You were more! "
Your mind screams inside your skull
And marching to their deadbeat tune
Leaves you and yourself annulled
As the masks around you smile
It reflects onto your own
Though "Yourself" might now be plural
You are still all alone
For Those Who Wear Masks
actually, those who love you
prefer that the masks be worn,
for they want that confidence in you
when you wear even one of them
in fact, you showed what love is
you conquered those who shame you
with what you are
when you are without it,
so by all means, our purpose is anyway
to survive this pass over
we shall cross the river shortly and
with the mask, this thing will be easier
smoother, and at the end what matters
most is your victory,
not what is behind that mask,
the horror within, the shock in every line
of your realities.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The True Me
The me that wants to fall in love,
Not spend another night in a,
Lustful bed.
The one that is deaf,
Because of her mothers hate cries.
The me that takes the word danger with a grain of salt,
And will try anything once.
If not killed might try it again.
The one that really thinks she is beautiful and sexy,
And enjoys getting dressed up,
Because then someone might notice her.
The me that is a broken and fallen angel,
Picking up all the pieces.
But needs your hand to learn how to start,
Putting them back together again.
The one that is a weak, loud, strong leader,
Who will put you before herself anytime, anywhere.
The person that you cant see from a far.
The someone that you cant find skin deep,
Even if you looked real hard.
This me is the one who is only shared within whispers,
And hidden within too many masks.
The masks are like a layered cake and I am at the bottom
Every word within the poems that I write
The masks crumble at the tip of my pen
And I expose to you
The true me
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Madman - His Parables and Poems
You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long
before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all
my masks were stolen,--the seven masks I have fashioned an worn in
seven lives,--I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting,
'Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.'
Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear
of me.
And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top
cried, 'He is a madman.' I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed
my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun
kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for
the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I
cried, 'Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.'
Thus I became a madman.
And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from
being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in
us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail
is safe from another thief.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Sweet Mask
Hi dear, Hello dear
I remember father telling us,
Of girls, who hid behind curtains
Of girls who lit fires
On faces of, to be, bridegrooms
Of maids who wore masks.
And to reveal, were suitors.
The mask, I have seen
This mask, that ye have won
I wish I would peel
I know, beneath lies, no stern
Beneath, a longing, honeyed
Heart, lies in heaven
Ecstasy, a waits, a clock ticks
Sweet mask, ye will, peel!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Masks are falling
Masks are falling.
Don't say it please,
that you are wearing it too.
Harrowing wind, distressing rain,
Freezing cold and burning heat - I have seen it all.
Looking at your face,
I walked pass through.
Now tremor beneath my feet.
Don't let the color go off.
If the earth is still so green,
That's because of you.
If the time stopped at dusk,
Oh dear, the reason I knew.
Masks are falling.
Please remain the way you were.
I fear to see you new.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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How Solemn As One By One
HOW solemn, as one by one,
As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty--as the men file by where
I stand;
As the faces, the masks appear--as I glance at the faces, studying
the masks;
(As I glance upward out of this page, studying you, dear friend,
whoever you are;)
How solemn the thought of my whispering soul, to each in the ranks,
and to you;
I see behind each mask, that wonder, a kindred soul;
O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear friend,
Nor the bayonet stab what you really are:
... The soul! yourself I see, great as any, good as the best,
Waiting, secure and content, which the bullet could never kill,
Nor the bayonet stab, O friend! 10
poem by Walt Whitman
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Why blame the masks
arche revolving phases
of a laughter or of a cry
arche living faces
life ful though doomed to die
arche fetish turning
its empty holes into our eyes
the sight of self to fulfill
better try healing what you cannot kill
what's lightless in us or ill
why blame the masks
it's not them
it's us
us in slums of fear of us
us in rage against us
us in shields from us
us in the dark caves of us
or even us with the light masks of us
it's me and you
never really knowing
who is protecting what or who
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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