I love the voices
the cheer
the madness
the love
the rage
the rush
There is nothing quite like being cheered for.
Like when me and my band play their favorite song.
And I soak it up.
The ultimate cure to depression?
Join a band
and Scream

To my band: Bleeding Diamonds

By the time you get
What you so badly wanted
Within this world
Within this life

You probably won't want it anymore

That is a consequence of life
Of the long hallway
And the time that it takes
For you to commit
To walking through that distant door

Whatever it is

By the time you get to that fame or fortune

You might not even want it anymore


By the time you get the fame you desire... You probably won't want it.
Niqolet Lewis Apr 5

the light pulses
draws you in
it narrows
and widens
can’t block out that glow
it flickers
Begging for your attention
Like a helpless moth
You're flying towards it
This isn't the real light
These girls, like neons they got you
These numbers they flickering like the halogen
and they got you
They promising everlasting love like LEDs
and it got you
Got you frantic
chasing that lime light
You're in that frame
Shine bright like the sun
Staring at it too long
and you’ll go blind

Jim Davis Mar 30

We have a peacock
Grand Azurite the third
Even his name a flame
He fans his blaze of shine
To ladies throughout his realm

Whether cat, dog,
Rooster, mare or hen
Or his sweet dame the same
He only wishes from all
A little bit of aloof admiration

Starts his day with a strut
Goes all day long looking
For a fawning long gaze
Ends every given long day
In mostly similar ways

He and his dame
Blissfully life spent thus far
Patiently eagerly waiting
For a brood of little ones
To teach to fan their flame

©  2017 Jim Davis

Peacocks and chickens grace our place
Nora Mar 21

Cameras flashing in rapid succession
She’s reunited with the lights,
Descending from heavens above
She throws herself to the wolves
Wrestling crowds and wrist cuffs,
Drowning in the spotlight
As she’d always dreamed

Insp. by Sunset Boulevard (1950)
Helios Alatza Feb 25

and i,
being the dried paint
on your easel,
sought meaning
on Canvas.

i never knew
what i meant
to the

VD Lee Feb 20

This city shines with gold
The streets are crowded and old.
Everywhere you turn
A star has once stood.
Livin' near Tinsletown
Are people whose lucks are down
And they spurn
The names on Hollywood.

Envy bites at them deeply
As they live very cheaply
All alone,
Dreaming meekly.
Once awhile they go to a studio
Where they hope to be on a show
And the phone
Will let them know.

But most times
Disappointment rears its ugly head.
And the hopeful people
Hear this sound instead:

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

Getting your name out there
Is harder than it appears
When others are
Doing it too.
And for people born with privledge
Fame is easily given.
Others are barred
From "dreams come true".

Crossing fingers give hope,
And praying can help you cope,
But actual success will
Never come that way.
Make sure you look thin and pretty
Or willing to act mean and petty
'Cause sometimes skill
Doesn't count at the end of the day.

Even with those requirements
Someone has them more.
They're better, smarter, prettier
While you're shown out the door.

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

Mama, it's your kid
I want to come back home.
LA's days are scorching,
Its nights' cold to the bone.
I'm lost in my direction
And have nowhere to go.
I fit no one's satisfaction
And I've hit lowest low.
So come save me from my depression.
Who knew such hardship would come from an entitled profession?

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

You're turned away.
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away
Turn away

Just Melz Feb 10

Catastrophic calamity
Souls made of blasphemy
On the down low
The World as a whole
Had turned to anarchy
And it's a shame there's no name
For all this antirelgious hate
Spreading across the world
Like a facebook game
Everyone looking for a high score
All in the name of fame

Chris Neilson Jan 21

If celebrity became of me
I'd never appear on game shows
my reality would be all my own
I'd wear second hand clothes

If celebrity visited my life
tweeting would be left for birds
my face would have no book
I'd hang out with neighbourhood nerds

If celebrity got hold of my ego
I'd still travel my tram
I wouldn't know how to live in luxury
I'd send telegrams to Instagram

If celebrity picked me from the crowd
I'd throw parties where nobody came
Wikipedia would describe me as reclusive
my fame would be so lame

Alex S Jan 16

The coca-cocaine parties
The weekend spews at 10
The cycle of sleeping and shagging
Repeats itself again
The brown, the crack, the weed, the smack
Fuel her replica world
It’s a far off cry from the glamorous life
Promised to the matchstick girl

A head of hair thatched upon
Walls of weak foundation
The chic new style to fill the aisles
And sweep entire nations.
She’s Bambi on ice in a dress so tight
It would make your mother hurl
But we live in a time where all women pine
For the look of the matchstick girl

The big old Pappa Razzi
Guard her every step
From the same hold-hand fanatics
That crave her vinous breath
The punks, the queens, the teenage dreams
Who buy their love with pearls
Stick close to her side and somewhat abide
They’re friends with the matchstick girl.

The Sunday evening voicemails
The daily text of pain
From a desolated mother
Who begs to see her again.
The pleas, the cries, the tears don’t dry
While apologies unfurl
For the sins, the aches and major mistakes
Made by the matchstick girl.

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