ezra warhol Mar 30

/muffled collection of chattered gossip.

i may mutter, one last collection of words,
But my raspy breath may refuse them to be heard.
So I sit and ponder what to do,
On the bed, bloodshot eyes run through,
They pierce the soul of whom? and when,
Sad to the core, like a rotten apple in Eden.
The bed gleams white with an eerie glow,
But my skin runs as scarlet as winterly snow.
People crowd, crowd they do,
So much crowd, so little move.
They talk and chatter as a family affair,
Take no notice, I am absent from there.

(Like a painting in an art gallery I wait,
But like a painting in an art gallery
many underappreciate.
No one dares talk to me,
If I muttered I might break that silence, you see,
butthereis
nopoint.
)


I may mutter, one last collection of words,
But my raspy breath may refuse them to be heard.
So I sit and ponder what to do,
The line begins to flatten; through and through.
My head tilts, it aches, it does,
There is no voice from above.
But alas! I've found
I will return to the ground
I just hope my gravestone is not a sappy sound when read aloud,
!Fuck that crowd!

Using my strength, using my might,
I grab some coffee from Eve('s hand) on the right!
I may as well take caffeine and get hyped
In the split second before I sleep every day and night!
[Famous last coffee, my legacy]
Caffeine before sleep usually entices lack of,
nowiwillsleepforeternity.
(&Well;,

I could use the rest.)

SLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP!

Caffei­ne before infinity. &
'ello MrFlatline.

Delta Swingline Mar 18

I stand in front of thousands of people, and I don’t know them, but I do know you...

When I was ten years old I wanted to be in the Olympics, an athletes dream in front of millions of people I don’t know. But I know you.

I stood on the podium, a stage of glory and pride for my country, medal around my neck, as the national anthem plays through my ears I begin to remember that I was gonna be a soldier.

At 14 years old I told you I wanted a badge or a medal, a uniform to wear, and something to fight for. And here I am standing on this stage about to receive recognition for my job.

And 15 year old me standing on a stage in front of thousands of people, with a guitar strapped around my body. And I’m singing a song I wrote, and only you know why I wrote it. The secrets I don’t tell the public are told to the people I really do trust in this world.

And yet here I am on a stage in front of people I don’t know.

Do you remember? I told you that you didn’t need to be remembered by the whole world by putting your name on a star in the sky. The sky doesn’t need another star, but Earth has it’s own star with your name on it, and it’s you.

And you don’t need to be remembered by thousands of people to be happy, you just needed me to remember you when I stand here.

You asked me to never forget you if I ever became famous. And I’m not famous. But you should be, you’re the star remember. You believed in me, told me I was worth something, enough to be here on this stage. So why aren’t you here? You are worth remembering, so why don’t you want to be famous? Why don’t you want to be on stage? I have a constant fear of never being remembered and you don’t want to be that person. Why do you not want to be on this stage? I want you here. I need you here.

I stand on a stage in front of people. Most of them, I do not know. I don’t remember why I’m on the stage anymore… But I know that you’re proud of me for whatever reason that might be.

I remember saying some sort of speech to these people, and suddenly you’re here. I can see you in the crowd, and you’re smiling. You seem so happy to see me here, almost as if you were on the stage beside me. And I wish you were. But I know you don’t need to be remembered by these people, but I remember you.

And when my speech comes to a close I say this: “Thank you, to the star in life who never made it to the sky, I just want you to know in this moment. That we made it!

If I ever become famous, this can be proof that I predicted my own future.
Aaron LA Lux Mar 6

Conceived In Hollywood

Conceived inside of Hollywood,
you have no idea what it means to be me,
and that’s not saying we can’t relate to basic things,
but honestly other than that we wear different rings,

we move in different circles,
we don’t lose our bets or virtues,
careful kid which path you choose,
because the Truth it can hurt you,

and that’s the true too,

see,

I was conceived,

inside of Hollywood,
you have no idea what it means to be me,
and that’s not saying we can’t relate to basic things,
but honestly other than that we wear different rings,

I’ve been assigned and equipped with a grand design by Thee Divine,

seriously I’m,
not telling you anything you don’t already know,
The Secret is that there’s no secret,
even though there’s a difference between backstage and front of show,

front of show shows shows to show off to the Masses wearing rose colored glasses,
meanwhile the whole time the action that’s happening backstage is outlandish I know,

those in the In Crowd conversating and communicating to conduct the energy flow,

In other words out there is where the soulless try and fill their empty shells with our energy,
and in here is where we build and learn and communicate to create everything for the show,

so,

what choice does that leave me with,
was initiated before birth,
see I’m more than a human I’m an idea,
I am the healing I am the hurt,

I am in line to have the last laugh even though my pole is first,

pole,
as in pole position,
should have to spell it out for you,
but sometimes you have to open up their eyes before they can see the vision,

my eyes are open as a wise old Owl perched upon a castle’s turret having visions,

this just in,
no News is news,
when,
you are Reality,

I was conceived,

inside of Hollywood,
you have no idea what it means to be me,
and that’s not saying we can’t relate to basic things,
but honestly other than that we wear different rings,

we know different people,
we do different things,
there’s very few who rule it’s true,
that’s not a mystery,

that’s not even a dispute,

that’s fact,
100% Truth.

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Aaron LA Lux Feb 26

I Make Art,

and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,

I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,

sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,

who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,

forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,

true true,

and who’s the Crew dude?

It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,

we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,

shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,

an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,

top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?

See,

I Make Art,

and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,

I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,

sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,

who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,

forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,

true true,

and who’s the Crew dude?

It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,

we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,

shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,

an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,

top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?

See,

I Make Art.

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Nora Feb 4

Click, hum. The phone line dies,
The ghost of rejection tickling one
Ear as it floats across the other. Her
Breath goes with it, a short exhale
Of frustration and grief.

The room is now silent, save for the
Shallow breaths of the aging dame
Grey mascara rivers running down
Thin crevices, inexorable lines of
An inevitable future. No makeup
So fine and polished can mask: she’s fallen
Victim to the times, pushing and straining
As far as the limits of her youth will allow

Cold remnants of an untouched meal
Watch from the corner, stale, unwanted
collecting dust and fleas,
Waiting to be disposed of, bound to be forgotten.
She pauses, blinks. The pit of her stomach
Grumbles in understanding -- two hands
Jump to grasp a cinched waist.
Open bourbon, brought in anticipation of good news
Teases:  no cheers for the old hag!

A fist and a table, an empty glass soon
Filled as she pours herself a bitter dose
Of panacea, just a little something to take
The edge of her face, to knock off a few years and
Quiet the pain.

Fifty and forgotten, candle in the wind
A name that once drew the largest of crowds,
Full theatres and a demand in the public eye,
Now brings nonchalance, indifference, or
Worse -- ignorance! Who?

The young starlings, bright, eager doe-eyed
Little things: they are the new pull, the desired
Flavor and choice eye candy. She trembles, but
Blames the alcohol: after all, it whispers,
Who wants to look at you?

IrieSide Jan 30

a kiss blended in warm linen
of delicate Texas breeze
and star-skied lemonade
your eyes,
in them reside
eternal beauty

permit my entrance,
in love

let me ravage your insides
of emotion, passion and feeling
I'd take you to the moon
just to   show you the world.

Under the night sky. Inspired to the sound of "I want You" by Bob Dylan.

You were the right face
At the wrong time, love
I only wish I woulda known it
Wouldn't have been so quick to give you up
When you have a good thing you hold it

Even deep down
I know we weren't in sink
I wish we had more time to be in harmony
Because we were just victims of the time and place

I changed my mind
And I turned to you
But you were already gone

I see you now
You're just a stranger
We wave hello,
I'll see you later
Its funny how
We were almost perfect

From the song Almost Famous by None Cyrus. Perfect description of how I feel sometimes when I look back...
Alex Negri Jan 10

All the animals scurry through the vast woods,
they secretly look across the field to see two legged animals.
Follow them home,
stare at the home,
oh what a beautiful home.
"But look!"
Said one deer in lonesome fascination
"The heads of our brethren hang there"
"Why not us?"
"How much less beautiful must we be?"
They scurry back.
Quickly, quickly! To tell the others.

"What a majestic meaning in life...to be a wall hanging,
I must become a creature worthy of this life"
They all said in unison.

As hunters come and go, all but the lucky ones get their wish granted,
and the rest have the minds to run fast and chauvinistically,
to show off, in hopes of being hung for the world to admire.
Without a soul, and never the free will that the forest granted.

And as one deer is shot, all young doe frantically scream...
"can't you believe it, I knew him before he was along the wall!"
and...
"He wagged his tail at me, you saw it, he really did!"

Its not all its cracked up to be.
Ilse Díaz Dec 2016

Heart pounding nonstop 

Feeling I ran sixteen miles

Can't seem to decifrate 

Where your affection lies



Querying who am I 

Long term silence prevails

Things are better off left unsaid



We used to share friendship

Now there's nothing left

Wondering where will you travel

After all this ravel



Observe along your space

Recall your whereabouts

Back when you were just 

A young teenager



You had company,

Someone who cared


That feminine corpse,

Would outsource every fiber of her soul 

To see you whole

Sadly you saw her as

Another to add list of friends role


Meanwhile her heart beat off adrenaline 

And nothing more



Retaining secrecy,

Devoted to destiny,

I'll exit knowing there's nothing else to do,

But to patiently wait for a propitious finale.

Brother Jimmy Nov 2016

It's just now hitting me
The enormity of this election
As I'm driving to meet my love
And our dear children,
Our daughters and our son,
At the grave of Susie B.
I just got choked up
At the sight of a throng
A near parade
Of mothers old and young
With their daughters
Hand in hand
Some with flowers
Some with banners
Democrat Mothers
Republican Mothers
Libertarian Mothers
Conservative Mothers
...Green Party Mothers
...Just
     ...ALL the kinds of Mothers, ok?
Well, I think of what this means for my daughters and it brings a tear to my eye.

In this Election Day, No matter who wins

...we can thank {or blame ;)}
That famous Rochestarian
Susan B. Anthony

...

I don't call her Susie B. out of disrespect or anything.  I have the utmost respect for what Susan B. Anthony accomplished. It's a reference to a tune by a local band called Garden Fresh.  "Georgie E., Susie B., Freddy D., ...They from the R-O-C!"
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