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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”
I even read
your famous poems
that many people
have read.

I even read
it many times
and got lost
in it.

I even thought
I might
easily remember
all the titles
of your poems
in every word
and I have also
been able to
understand it
little by little.

I even started
writing poetry
for myself.

I even sat
for a long time
just to think of words.

I even want
to be like you
or maybe more.

“Am I enough
to be able to achieve
what you once
I tell you
in front of
these poems
of mine.

“I want to be myself”,
he told me in this poem
now you're
Indonesia, 21st September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Lily Priest May 2021
She wanted to travel
Unravel the world
Like famous explorers
Who's wandering was all the will to ask
If there was anything beyond the horizon
That they could see.

Now shes everywhere -

Frozen stare, pigtails and grey red uniform,
Tie needling south with the straightness of a compass
And shes lost.

Where is she?
Everywhere anyone turns
Trapped in the undergrowth
Where cans and cat **** go to pasture
Her wrinkled smile
Is caked onto the branches
Paper machet - ed and as brittle
As an old map.
She breaks apart like bread crumbs
That will never lead her home.

Have you seen her?
Not tumble weeding her news
Across the m2
Or pinned to a lamppost
Weeping her ink into the missing
like a watercolour.

Have you spied her?
Not tied with weak ribbon
to brown stalks who's little
Notes speak of hope
And other things, like Angel's and innocence,
The innocence shes frozen in.

Can you find her?
Not hopefully
Flying her flag of the forgotten
On the tv
Budget crew
Remaking her last seen
With shaking cameras
And discount queens of the smaller screen
Hoping for Hollywood.

Is there a tangible
Left to her name
Thrown as it has been across
State lines, and small places
That only the locals know.
She has Columbus - ed the globe
And she only left home
Walked down her drive
And disappeared.
JoyAndPain Feb 2021
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.

Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.

One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
This is not an original poem. it was written by Frank Green in 1869
i found it in a book called "And then there were none." it is very good. i recomend it. if you want to know it is about 10 people who are stuck on an island called soldier island after being tricked into going. one by one there are all **** by a madman disquised as a guest. ther is a lot more to the story but i dont want to spoil it.
Doesn't matter what we have
But what we become.
is far more important
I stand just beside you
unseen in your frame
How much ever I try anew
People identify me with your name.

We both have the same talent
but I'm ranked with the boors.
You are a famous gallant
As victory is always yours

We are still together
Smile, laugh and enjoy
But Deep inside I wither
Like Achilles in the war of troy
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
The cube, the sphere
and the triangle

Building blocks, visionary shapes
that brace wind, cut clouds

Industrial smoke goes against
the grain of architecture

Maybe we can find where
they breathe tomorrow in naturally

It will be opaque and after breakfast
arrested by cantilevered thoughts

A ripple in the calm
whirlpool above the falls

As Liliane enjoys swimming
in the **** and collecting modern art

By nightfall and before the uniting
there's a solemn dream to be had

Haunted fragments
within the libretto of a Shining Brow

The contents of Froebel gifts
form organic steps, and led us
Wright to the water's edge
For Frank Lloyd Wright (1867-1959)
Maniacal Escape Jul 2020
Take a lonely stroll through the park of life
Why not kick a stone whilst you’re there to enjoy the mood?
Turn and face the oncoming sweep of hatred with pitchforks at your throat
All you did was kick a little stone.
The rope is tight, it cuts and you bleed
But try to smile as the hateful hands stroke at you with enviable despise.
They drag you through dirt that scathes your façade.
But still you show what’s left of your smile.
The ropes pull and off you fly behind hooves of hatred,
gored and disfigured you cheerfully drag yourself up from behind the horse.
The horse **** tearing at your wounds as you try to stand.
Such a crowd
You wave at your fans and they pelt you with vinegar,
acid bubbles into the bastardised crevices,
your legs buckle as you’re yanked from behind ,
your eyes falter as you watch your essence snake out into the rabble.
They lick at your heels as your mind begins to wander.
Back to the block. You come to, the crowd is cheering
They’re happy and so you thank your audience.
Your eyes adjusting to the love as the axe blade cracks your neck through to the jaw leaving your disfigured skull rolling down into the dispersing gathering.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
Everything fine fake
Just can't take Hollywood snakes
At the stars eyes ache
About celebrities
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