Alex 1d

Spotlight
It turns towards me and I smile
I love the crowd
The adoration
The red carpet leading nowhere
Me?
A diva?
Nonsense!
If you were as fascinating as me you'd understand
All of me is a gift
Meant to be shared to all!
Wait, what are you doing?
Turning away?
From... me?
I thought you cared about me
But was I wrong?
Am I nothing?
Am I merely a child seeking attention
Always from others?
Is my self worth so low
That I seek it from others
Like a beggar seeking pennies?
So that's why I cling to the legs
Of others passing
That's why I play the fool
But wait, you're back?
Oh... just busy with something else
Something not me
(I don't know if I like that)
I live in the spotlight
When it's gone, will I leave too?

little poem I wrote

People tend to favor Beauty over Ugliness,
But a form of Censorship or Ignorance
Is often necessary to Maintain this Illusion
Of Beauty.
In Contrast,
If one actually DELVES into the Ugliness,
One might find that all the Crap out here
Is actually Fertile Ground
For an a Beauty
That is Unfettered and Unrestrained.

Much of what is posted on Social Networks
Is really Crap,
By any objective standards.
However
Just as many animals and plants
Thrive off of Garbage
The Artist can find a lot of Inspiration
Or PROVOCATION
To enable his or her Imagination
To continue to flourish
From That which is Foul.

aviisevil Jun 25

separating thoughts
      from my head


fighting the demons
     haven't slept

awake every second
    nobody to tell


this is hell
this is hell
I swear, it feels like it

this is hell
nobody to tell
i fear, i'll be like this

forever in my soul
nobody to love or hold
watch time grow old
a heart gone cold

how do you live
like this anymore ?


there's no spell
this is hell
i swear, i'm so naked

nothing to sell
this is hell
my dear, i have waited

for so long
in this lake of fire
that now i am nothing
but ash
and you'll always be
what i could never have

a part of me
bearing my black

a dream unsold
never be, untold

how do you
get it all back ?

for i swear,

this is hell
this is my hell
i swear, it's mine to keep

nobody to tell
all i have felt
for an eternity

somewhere within me
burning me

for this is hell
this is hell
i swear, it's true

this is hell
this is hell
my dear, here without you.

Brent Fisher Jun 5

cut to the chase,
the burn, the brush,
the broad stroke,
quick to judge,
short draw, fast toke,
that fast bloke
who broke records,
blow out the candles,
door and it’s handles,
blasted waste, I tell you,
busted, it’s a shambles.

I asked God
To help  me
In my Search for Faith.
God said, "Sorry son!"
"God helps those who help themselves."
So, I asked God's associate,
Satan,
To help me Find my Faith.
He said, "Sure, son!"
"We'll find it for you."
First,
Satan escorted me to a brothel,
Where I had sex with many amazing-looking prostitutes
With voluptuous, sexy bodies.
Then, Satan asked me,
"Did you find your Faith there son?"
I replied.
"Truthfully not."
"It was an interesting experience, but I can't say I found my Faith there."
Satan replied cheerfully, "Don't worry!"
"We have other options!"
I was escorted to an Opium Den.
I got stoned OUT OF MY MIND, "chasing the dragon."
However,
I still could not report to Satan
That I had found my Faith.
So,
Satan helped me out of my stupor,
By giving me some Crystal Meth.
One of Satan's assistants put a uniform on me
And told me to commit a massacre.
After I had killed 1,000 people,
I still hadn't  Found my Faith.
I told Satan,
"You have been very helpful,"
"But, no matter where you take me......."
"No matter what I do,"
"I still can't find my faith"
Satan was very compassionate with me....
Much more helpful than God.
He told me,
"That's okay, son."
"You made a good effort."
"Why don't you go home and get some rest?"
So,
I walked home on Sherman Street
Past the Colorado State Capitol Building.
I had eaten some delicious Beef Enchiladas
At  Denver's Mercury Cafe for Supper.
As a result
I really need to take a crap!
As my feces emerged from my anus,
All of a sudden,
I could feel my Faith returning to me.
"Form is Emptiness."
"Emptiness is Form."
Sunyata.
I think I've finally Found my Faith!

Sometimes,
I like to write.
Shitty poetry.
It doesn't make sense,
But gives me more Practice.
Therefore,
Shitty Poetry
Is good for me.

When I was 10 years old
I formed a 2 strong gang
at first it was just me
but then my mate rang

We armed ourselves with sweets
by the name of Mojos and Spangles
we swelled to a five strong gang
by recruiting from all angles

We named the gang SCRAP
an acronym of our first initials
our aim was to change the world
without the bells or whistles

Within our mandate to achieve our goal
was owning a personality as soft as shit
an initiation ceremony of cucumber butties
kudos achieved after eating every last bit

We terrorised our neighbourhoods
by walking quietly on the pavement
helping elderly folk across the road
and extra confession during Lent

The rapscallion behaviour continued
playing cricket without protective pads
talking politely to each others parents
and being respectful to our dads

Sean grew some balls then left the gang
after a power struggle over a bathing cap
forcing a name change without the "S"
we were now a gang called CRAP

CRAP continued for just another year
then disbanded without committing a crime
we finished as we had started
by all completing our homework on time

*Butties - A colloquial word for sandwiches
A partly true story
Poetic T Mar 25

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

I will not fall on a sword of those that ignore my verse
that fall on the page, do you know why I write in diverse
motions? Do you know my demons the voices that verse
inwards on the white of my skull? my reflections reverse.

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

But excrement can be rhymed in free verse, I'm doing this
for me but I don't linger to impress! I word for my emotions
are a hurricane and I'm the eye calm but I swim in the abyss.

The sting of my verses will sew the woeful indiscretions
of what got curb bounced on the beat or the worst vocals
that you rhymed incoherently that were
                                                     collected in lyrical a doggy bag.

I'm vocalized to those that don't sniff the arses of poor vocals
linger on excellence not the excrement of poorly woven yokels.
Lyrics of verse are meant to move not stagnate silently,
they are meant to be lyrics that move the emotion violently.

"Weave the best version of you, not the diluted verse,

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