The epitome, of working in the shadows
never having the spotlight, or acclaim
realizing you may fade, to grey
with no dogs in the hunt, or game

Kibitzing the edges and corners
making edits, of heroes' ploy
feeling all the pains and tortures
not sharing in, all the hard earned joy

Greatness is as greatness does
you know within your deepest soul
you've  done and did everything you could, or can
even if, nobody ever knows

I've done it, do it, live it, and I'm ok with it :D
Zan Balmore May 20

Don't be afraid to
come into the backroom.
Part the curtain first
if you think you need a peek,
but honey, I've been waiting
here with all the answers.
You'll see.

What do you seek from this trans-trash
patch of bleached grass? Underneath,
infinite versions of me/my design holes,
tunnels in mud searching for sunshine.
But I want to ask you, who claims the noose?
Who gets to rise past the others in the end,
but then gets the knife so as to start again?
All ants, all ants, pull all but two legs loose,
and you're dancing in pants, wearing the tune
of the long, last living human in blues.


Inspired by the various works of David Lynch and Die Antwoord
Mysidian Bard Feb 19

We both read our scripts,
but we're not on the same page.
You and I are just actors
who treat life as the stage.

We rehearse our lines,
but they're not what we mean,
for once lets break character
and call cut on this scene.

We could steal the show
if we rewrite the play
and end the charade
of this macabre matinee.

We've reached the finale,
there's no encore after all.
This is our shot,
our last curtain call.

Julia Jaros Apr 2015

Branco e bege se fundem na cortina
Feixes de luz tentam passar
para um mundo onde há muito
foram esquecidos
a poeira e a maneira.

Observe o movimento sutil
do tecido repetido e entretido
A transparência é genuína
mas a poeira
é contínua.

O espaço tímido não se revela
Escondendo sua sequela
de quando tão ingênuo
escondia uma janela aberta.

Bem, está trancada agora.

Apollo Hayden Oct 2016

And still you're more concerned  with who's in front of the curtain than who's behind it.
The puppets are being controlled by the puppeteers.
The strings are there, even though they're thin and clear; if you're searching for truth you'll find it.

Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016

The clocks wind down,
and soon the Earth will spin
tightly again.

How many passes do we need
to take a conscious breath?
How many paths?

The curtain lowers
before the curtain rises again.
I find myself staring at the red velvet,

the in between.

Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016

Not quite a hurricane
but a wind that still blows,
holding love aloft.
I prefer to be behind the scenes
like god,
observing the audience
through a chink in the curtain.

I am prophecy self-fulfilled,
but I’ve been before mistaken.

Surprised to learn
they embrace what they kill.

Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016

Night lowers its curtain of silence,
my only time to steal away, and
suck the flavour out of every
lovely rind.

It is its lime
mine to enjoy.
If only I could taste it.

Yusof Asnan Jul 2016

You were known as a man of few words,

Yet you spoke of a thousand advice,

You held in all the pain,

So no one can hear your cries.

It's never my intention to argue with you,

I grew up knowing more of the ill toungue,

Been taught to detest;debate and prove myself right,

Since I was very young.

I wasn't there most of the time,

But don't mistook me for seeking freedom,

Such are not within my wish,

All that was so you can be there with them.

You left-

My dream is now broken.

Its all for the love,

That I might never have shown.

In my prayers and our memories,

Is where you stay,

Because Goodbye,

Is something I could never say.


Forgive me for not being able to be who you wished me to be.
I love you dad.
Vani j Jun 2016

I have still got pain.
Its big and in vain, 
For its only pain,
It has got no body and no brain.
Its of no use ,
And from it nothing I will gain 
But it still comes like a tornado and rocks me like a hurricane .
It breaks my windows and knocks on my door
And enters swiftly, even when I don’t open them wide anymore,
And it holds me prisoner,free once but no more  ,
And it makes me write verses like they were curses once for sure,
Thats the gift that gives me  my pain .
No its never a boon,
it's alwez a bane.
A bane of my existence,not clear and quite uncertain.
I ride the waves from fountain to fountain. My pain has really no gain BT it's still bleeding,
bleeding crimson red from heart shaped curtains .
From the door to the street, it will make me keel it will make me bleed, but
Don’t love me alone, I may be insane.
But love me, love me because i come branded with my pain.

Next page