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Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
I find it hard to put myself out there, I don't go out on a limb
To concerned about what people think and say, like "man, look at him"
"Who the **** does he think he is, he ain't no Eminem"
These words never hit my ear but I swear I'm hearing them
"Look at this, another poor white boy from the trailer park"
"Trying to hit his mark and make it big by belting out what's in his heart"
They got no clue money and fame wasn't my reason to start
It began as a way to shed some light on what seemed like eternal dark
One spark was all it took and I couldn't stop this pen from spilling ink
On the brink of insanity aboard a ship destin to sink
Life ******* me like a *****, two in the pink one in the stink
Swallowed a bottle of pills, why did they give me this charcoal to drink
Hmmm, let me think...****
That's the problem, I just reacted, I didn't stop to think
Didn't stop to think about everything I was about to flush down the stink
But the rope that was supposed to save me is now the one around my throat
The beautiful words I wrote now read as if a suicide note
But getting these thoughts out worked better then letting them get my goat
The loose lief kinda saved my life, it kept me afloat
I filled up hundreds of papers, I wrote down thousands of lines
The more I wrote the less I hurt, confidence up and pain declines
The rain subsides eventually in everyone's minds
But make no mistake the beast still resides behind these eyes
It's just these words are like a prize, they put the beast to sleep like lullaby's
Stay anonymous
I won't ever be famous
Because all of this
I don't do it for the glory but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be famous for my words...
Zywa Aug 26
A living statue

bends over, taps my shoulder:

it wants a picture.
Colum "Bewegende standbeelden" ("Moving statues", 2023, Marcel van Roosmalen), in NRC, July 3rd, 2023

Collection "Specialities"
Zywa Aug 5
The famous writer

is awfully shy, no one --

attends to his clothes.
"The Queen of the Tambourine" (1991, Jane Gardam), § March 10th (1990)

Collection "Shelter"
Nat Lipstadt Jul 13
did you ever write poetry?(1)

once. but everything of earthly substance,
destined to fade into the ignominy of forgotten
vaults, where time takes it time and erodes all
into dust. here,

every word preserved. there is no time
in the dominion of creators, and you friend
are numbered in their midst, enshrined in many
hearts and eyes, and

with every
each reimagination,
you are a reincarnated being
excerpted, & reformatted from a poem by lmnsinner
with author’s permission!

Kamal Apr 13
A summer breeze whispered in my ears
Of love, fame
And other grand things
Tempt me with
Sunset rays
Of a far away place

Wrapped myself in daydreams
Grew wings on faith
Picked up the pace
Forgot my place
And chased elusive ways
Of love and fame
And other sad mistakes
Chasing your embrace
Zywa Mar 10
Spotlights, reflected

off the gold celebrity:

image on image.
Collection "BloodTrunk"
Zywa Mar 5
Emperors on their

pedestals look over me --

into an old time.
Collection "Secrets & Believers"
Anais Vionet Feb 17
Let politicians claim virtue,
and abandon honest men.

Let the poor inherit promises,
and be comfortable servants.

Let the famous enjoy advantage,
and carry no favors in heaven.

Let physicians prescribe hope,
and a worthy price be paid.

Let education forge solutions,
and notorious liars lose favor.

Let simple humanity be rewarded,
and tyranny reap the sorrow of death.
Marilyn's easel
a Madonna displayed
celluloid goddess
of the temple of the silver screen
we worshipped
ignoring the cracks and the obvious fact
that the woman behind the art
was slipping
slowly dripping off the canvas
now she is no more
we still adore
the puddle on the floor
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