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Andrew Parker Jan 2014
City Lights SLAM POETRY
1/21/2014

Look momma,
out the airplane window.
There's city lights,
they're pretty,
but what they really mean you wouldn't know.
Las Vegas, ain't it beautiful though.

But oh, you see,
the city captures me
and keeps me held up at night
lacking fright
as the city sees my drunken might.

Because sometimes I get a little lonely,
and sometimes I wander.
But most times it's irrelevant,
I'm just the big purple elephant,
in the room,
that nobody wants you to see.
Because that side of me,
is in you just as much as in me.

Just wonder, have a little wander,
View tomorrow fonder,
maybe we'll strike thunder,
or settle for down under,
the ****** dancer,
make your moves romancer.
Tell me it's the season,
but you don't need a reason,
to put your body out there,
feel the warmth of cold stares.

You see it's these city lights,
they keep me trapped in the night
of Las Vegas,
And I know it sounds heinous,
but please could you come save us
from the city lights,
before they eat us tonight.

So maybe
we could go somewhere
Save our money
get the hell outta here.
Instead we stare
into those city lights,
oh so pretty.
Oh so mesmorizing,
oh so ******* gorgeous.

He'll take your wallet,
pick your pocket,
kick your door in,
though you locked it,
take your money,
you're in need
not just of some
but of everything
that's not in Las Vegas,
but we're not that shameless, are we?

Sometimes we do things,
we don't want the world to know,
Sometimes I think,
I'm my own private show,
with the freak side attraction,
maybe get reaction
split a fraction to know
that one *** and another ***
don't make a rake
just a couple flakes
that fall down
that fall down
that fall down
and break,

under these city lights
I don't think we can make
it out of here alive.
We just crumble,
and slip through the cracks,
as we try to survive,
can't work a 9 to 5,
because we're lazy
and we do drugs
and we hate stuff
and we have ***
and we **** up
my life
ain't it nice
to live in Las Vegas
and see the city lights?
as they keep me trapped in the night?

Until I die,
Nothing leaves Las Vegas huh?
Have any of you seen the movie Leaving Las Vegas?
You should because it's famous,
not just because Nick Cage is,
but because his character was nameless,
or might as well been,
could you tell me
more than just his story?
Of a washed up, pathetic alchie and a *******?
His name was Ben Sanderson,
but that's not the point you're still missing.
His character was based on a real person,
At first I thought his name was John O'Brien,
the writer of the novel,
who shot himself.
But we dig a little deeper,
and find this message steeper
than we had imagined,
the real victim's been hidden,
in plain sight,
under these city lights.

*******, druggie, you don't know what I see,
on that airplane,
through the window
there's just something
that don't show,
but it's in the spotlight
of these city lights,
it's those people,
dying while still alive,
alcohol in their arteries,
could be you
and could be me,
trapped in the night,
by these city lights,
but you'd never know,
because what happens in Vegas,
stays in Vegas,
but they don't tell you why,
it's these city lights that keep us alive.
We need them to struggle to survive.
This is my first Poetry SLAM piece.
SE Reimer Oct 2013
farewell to an unnamed river
that flows so rich and so deep
consummate wordsmith 
your waters will never run dry
spinner of mesmorizing tales
lover of tributes and words
kin to my homeland
i wish you well
my never-met, poetic friend 
following you (though at a distance)
has been a pleasure
i wish you well
stay safe, my friend
farewell
if you've followed this river, you've loved its water!
join me in wishing him back
in the meanwhile, stay safe, my friend
Anna Christine May 2012
Every sigh, every breath, every forced pattern is sparkled with the intensity of the memory of you.
I have created a world with noone to tell me wrong, noone to go against my wishes. I have created a world without you and every breath I take I regret my being.
For what is passion, without you. For what is desire, without you.

For what is love, without you.

Teach me passion, for I fear it has left, compose desire in the web of the music carried by fear.

An ocean filled with lonely souls, agony heard in the mesmorizing colours of a wind that is to be spoken of.
A song, not to be understood with words is rippled across the surface of the lonely ocean. The darkness that touches the sun, gleaming with devastation, is a constant reminder of reality.

The doubting heart, the breaking stride, the abandoned agony. Solitarity can be a treasure, when one desires it. It can be the arrow pinned through every limb. Rise above, till you hit what is known as earth.

Cast the anker, slow down. Drown in the ocean with the deserted. Over the hills and further. Wait for dawn, your presence will embarrass what is known as perfection.

Leave me not, leave me for you.

A desire for red roses. Leave white at my deathbed, for what is death without love?
You are the sound that detaches my heart from its melancholy. I walk alone.

Believe what is said, trust me not.
I cannot bear responsible for the debris I create, I cannot stand to watch you bother.

Hold my hand with your black gloves. You know the misfortune, you know the misery. Take the black horse.

I see the mask, but not the face. I see your touch, but feel nothing. Inside my heart I wish you near but time is pushing me against the fall.

Forget the wide eyes, gleaming with fear. Forget the discreet screams.
Let me be the light that guides you.
Say you will love me.
Pluck  Jul 2015
Michele
Pluck Jul 2015
It's 5am & Ive never felt more awake.
Every time she leaves, my heart she takes.
But she lays with me now & im drowning in excitement and joy.
My heart pounds and my stomach dances like a prom masquerade as if I'm a 13 year old boy.
I treasure these nights, & when God shuts off the lights, I know it's time for me to stare into those mesmorizing autumn eyes.
The pleasure is right, she holds me tights, & I dread her leaving again at the first evidence  of sunrise.
Chris Thomas Jul 2017
Names and lies
And by God,
All the nights spent
Afraid of the dark and dismay

You sing your troubles
In treble and tyranny
Hum your mesmorizing melodies
And wait until a quarter past never

So many magic boxes
To still cut in half
So many discordant pieces of me
Scattered across time and space

These names and lies
Brunette hair and brown eyes
These are the pretenses
To my post senses

Sleight of hand
Can't fix this brokenness
Anymore than a single stitch
Anymore than a ghost's reflection

So I take my leave now
A dare to dangerous dreams
Almost as if to say tomorrow will
Disappear like everything we were
Raven Feb 2022
I wanna hurt myself
Worse then ever before
I wanna do it until
All I can see from my legs
Is the blood all over the floor

I wanna hurt myself
Worse then ever before
So that I can see the blood
That makes me feel calmer
Than anything more

Its pretty
Mesmorizing
And so easy to focus on

When the rest of the world feels
Ugly
Repulsing
And so hard to cope with

The way it feels is so nice
The way it flows is so soothing
The way it warms me up is so calming

Its warm and cozy
And makes me feel
Less lonely
And empty

No one understands it fully
Other than me
For I've never met another person
Who cuts for the purpose
Of seeing themselves bleed

Its concerning and dangerous
I know this
But its soothing
And freeing
So how bad can it be

Unfortunately I fear
That one day
No amount of blood
Will be enough

And on that day
I'll end up
With none
Left to bleed
Oct/3/2021
Rebecca Nov 2020
An odyssey of truth
across the seven seas.
An adventure of a lifetime,
take my hand and come with me!

I have a ship named Censor,
I'll navigate her wheel.
I'm the Captain of her anchor,
the master of ideas.

Perception is her mascot,
conscience is her sail.
A religion navigates
a balance on the scale.

Her starboard gravity
will tell you what to know.
Her mesmorizing port
will show you where to go.

They both conceal the waves
to capsize our ideas.
An agenda of our thought
to break a bending will.

The truth is just a scratch,
upon her glossy surface.
Concealing all the bias
will always serve a purpose.
“When you tear out a man's tongue, you are not proving him a liar, you're only telling the world that you fear what he might say.”
― George R.R. Martin,

— The End —