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Andreas Simic Jun 17
If you Google it, the search comes up as a dot it is so small
growing up years ago they said the population was 500
but that had to have included the people passing through
for we had an ESSO, Schell, Gulf, BP and Texaco gas station

Being on the way to cottage country we were that stop
far enough from the big city for cottagers to be ready
for a bathroom break and a fill up at the pumps
Crime was something we only read about in the papers

Our claim to fame the lake, and ice fishing
You could drive your car to the island in the dead of winter
passing by fish huts painted in an array of colors
The ice road delineated by trees to avoid getting lost

Sure we had the odd break in at a cottage but nothing
that got our name in the news
Oh, we also had two churches and a one room school house
we arrived when I was in grade two, Miss Mitchell was the teacher

Growing up in those days meant hours playing
If we weren’t swimming, we were future hockey stars
or baseball players, Ian and I at the back of the school
pitcher and hitter challenging each other

Hours upon hours at a time spent with kids from down the street
Sure there were the petty fights but mostly with my brothers,
but what can you expect when you have four boys growing up
each vying to become adult like

Those were, in my mind, the days of innocence
before computers and the world became larger
and the internet allowed you to see it all,
the poverty, the deadliness of war, man’s cruelty

Once a place I wanted to desperately get away from
to get lost in the city, an introvert looking for a place to hide
I now find myself reminiscing of those long lost days
where life was simple and a day could be spent daydreaming

Andreas Simic©
Zywa Jun 16
On earth, stars twinkle

untouchably far away --


Close by they die out.
Human stars
Collection "From Sacred Scriptures [1]"
ScaryGary May 24
Aren't delusions of grandeur just as good, if not better?
Zywa Apr 10
Finally famous,

for some photos half naked --


next to the toilet.
Mocking at fame
Online shaming
In the summer of 1967, Robert Davidson took photos of Frank Zappa in his hotel in London
In 1983 Frank Zappa said about these photos: "I'm probably more famous for sitting on the toilet than for anything else")

Collection "Mastress"
Bella Isaacs Mar 24
I will, for I can, go beyond my station now
Wherefore should I be confined? And how
You will wonder at me in the future,
Which I shall make my present, forgetting the suture
That has held my mouth - It is not a scar;
And I have a million things to say as they are,
Or as they might be - I will ape Almodóvar
And outshine Solovjov, and will I go far!
I will be She of the next generation;
But I must get beyond this station
I must move beyond the static,
From the bedroom to the attic,
And from thereon, to the world,
When my courage has unfurled;
And I will seize this with both hands
And deal you wonder, charm and reprimands:
I will paint you images, and write you songs,
Celebrate your joy, and right your wrongs,
Pick at the intricacies, and throw the obvious,
Show humankind as honest and oblivious,
And I will do this all, and watch me so -
I just need to ready, set, and go.
I want to tell stories for the rest of my life: I want to to put on plays and make films. University is not a stop to this - it's just another step. Another step is to forget the existence of potential romantic interests and the supposed "importance" of social media. Then, ahead.
I met fame
and asked her
why does she act so pricey
and she asked
“Do I? I didn’t know people wanted me.”
I met fame
and told her
people sell their soul for a little bit of her
and she answered
“Sorry for them, but I don’t have much to offer.”
I met fame
I asked her
why very few people could deal with her
and she answered
“I am sure it’s them, it can’t  be me”
Persephone Dec 2021
Their names still burn your throat with the same fire that lit their pyres 3000 years ago.
And yet you still have the audacity to call them dead?
Kassan Jahmal Dec 2021
As with those favoured by stars,
Proudest titles of boast,
Fortune resting on cunning smoked cigars.
In themselves, nothing is toiled,
Famed eyes in our sights,
Thousand victories never once foiled,
Look at pride, by chest of host,
Frown on they glory of self,
As are the lovers of oneself the most.
                                  Fame is then a beloved,
                                  As only by a removed heart.
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