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minx Jun 24
bright lights and lustful eyes
fall upon my stage.
can you even tell–
whether you wanna be me
or be with me ?

gilded, it reflects my blinding fame
as they adoringly chant my name
each touch sends a shiver
feeding to desires that claw and command
on my carefully sculpted fortress, my facade.

oh, it’s exhausting
but i still have time for myself
feel my own flesh under my fingertips
soothing the frayed nerves
my body buzzes from the exhibition.



iDOL’S iNTERLUDE

DiD YOU REALLY THiNK i WOULDN’T NOTiCE ?
OF COURSE i DiD. EVERYONE DOES.
THAT’S KiND OF MY THiNG.
Y’KNOW, BEiNG NOTiCEABLE.

SO, WHAT iS iT ?
AN AUTOGRAPH ? A SELFiE ?
AH, DON’T TELL ME–
A KiSS ?

LOOK, i GET iT.
THiS FACE ? THiS TALENT ? THiS AURA ?
iT’S A LOT TO TAKE IN !
BUT KEEP iT TOGETHER, YEAH ?

THE WORLD KEEPS SPiNNiNG
EVEN WHEN i BLESS iT WITH MY PRESENCE.
BEAUTY iS MUCH MORE THAN A CONSTRUCT
i’M THiS PATHETiC WORLD’S MUSE.

WHAT DO YOU WANT ?
BUT MAKE iT QUiCK.
MY SCHEDULE iS… TiGHT. YOU KNOW HOW iT iS WHEN YOU’RE ME.
WELL, ACTUALLY– YOU DON’T.



the roar fades, finally phantom in my ears
but the heat still clings
the ghost of want really taunts me
backstage, clumsily touching myself
a pathetic substitute for the reality i crave.

humid air envelopes my body
the lone moonlight, a cold ******.
i so wish it were my fans…
eager to see
eager to see me, overstimulation, overload.

i guess i should mention–
the shimmer reflects no saint tonight
only sweat slicking skin, restless with need
the crowd gives no place to hide
the now pulsing truth beneath the light.

i love the sight of their eyes,
their irises burning holes through my clothing.
my urges come undone
once carefully constructed, crumbles down
as soft sighs leave my lips.
ughhh

there's something amazing about the rush when you're in front of a crowd.

oh, i love it. all eyes on me.
In the galaxy, stars brightly gleam,  
A massive collection, a cosmic dream.  
Gas, dust, and dark matter,  
In spirals, they scatter,  
Held by gravity's powerful theme.  

Ellipticals glide, irregulars play,  
In the vastness of night, they dance and sway.  
The idol we praise,  
Through the celestial maze,  
Guiding our hearts, light-years away.
Àŧùl Oct 2024
It's not necessary for God to be like they say,
And if God is indeed so limited, then it's not God.

Just think of it, come on now, just think of it,
If God is omnipotent, omnipresent & omniscient,
Then why so limited?

Why assign a gender,
Why call, 'formless,'
Why say, 'sinless?'

If God has a gender,
Why not a female?
If God is formless,
How can It judge?

You believe in men born in the desert,
Dehydrated and hallucinating men.
All your À-Bràhmìk reLIEgions,
They are follower-hungry,
Strains of narcissism.

Accept that your God is weak,
So weak that it can't even take a form,
Or even endure criticism.
My HP Poem #2018
©Atul Kaushal
I S A A C Apr 2024
idle by my idols
practice like a recital
did not know your love was so vital
your ex my new rival
jealous and jealously
remember i am all you need
White Shadow Dec 2023
In the hush of twilight, a father's absence weaves,
Threads of longing, a heart forever grieves.
Lost at eleven, your warmth fades away,
Yet in my soul's landscape, your presence will stay.

I glimpse your shadow in the whispers of the wind,
A love profound, where memories rescind.
Though your laughter eludes my growing ears,
In my heart's embrace, your joy appears.

An idol unmet, a mythic embrace,
Yearning for stories, your wisdom to trace.
I strive to embody the lessons you'd share,
In life's intricate dance, I sense you there.

Days of triumph and nights of despair,
I ache for your guidance, for your tender care.
A father's embrace, an untouchable dream,
Yet, in fleeting moments, your love does gleam.

I miss you, dear father, in every heartbeat,
In the quiet moments when nostalgia's seat,
Becomes a throne for our moments untold,
A tale of love, more precious than gold.
Dedicated to my father
Serendipity Mar 2023
You baptized me
in the shadow of the sun,
the water made
from Angel's weeping.

The church bells ring
with the Devil's laughter
as they blind themselves
and call me
God.
Descovia Feb 2022
Pardon me, for taking the time
to only express my frequent thoughts in mind.

You

Deserve all the tranquility your
beautiful soul has to provide

You shift minds, with the flick of a switch! Creativity explosion, amusing in aspects! Kudos, to your classy style in writing, combined with sarcasm and unfolds passion! I believe, it aid the lives, whom seeking answers to themselves, when it comes to your art.

Your heart is what we feel reading your work.

Do not let the battle make you weary.

These are the words not only from a dark magician. A friend. A supporter.
Whom would not have access to power, to maintain balance on my abilities, if I did not learn from the ways of the Huntress! Fighting with magic, and weapons are different styles! Still they both use energy! Needless, to say our overall goal for liberty, are highly similar! I believe you were meant to empower people. Do not be afraid, to take my strength. I will do anything for a friend!"

Your growing strength will spark a powerful resolution.

Get ready!

May Mother Earth continue to bless you and all you love.
Unpolished Ink May 2021
A fallen idol
is a wounded bird which sings
and tries to fly on paper wings
Ishani Sengupta Mar 2021
The all attractive mighty-
Blue-skinned idol deity,
Grasping all suffer and misery
Call himself The Hari.
Even a leaf can symbol a devotee
Being natkhatlal is what Maiyaa worry;
His existence is an endless rath,
Knowledge is what defines Jagannath.
The Lotus-Eyed he is-
Lord of Love whom we wish,
Charioteer to Arjuna
Raas and Kanhaiyya,
Together we say-
Hari! hari!
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2021
Star soldier with the rocket arm,
you bleed silver, gold,
and product placement.

Smile big for the camera,
the media will sell its soul
for a new bankable face.

Party hardy, Heisman candidate,
******* your semi-steady's
sorority sister,
then ask to see her again
sometime after the **** kit.

It's quite alright,
so long as you have talent
beyond this hemisphere.
Why even the fatherland, ESPN,
will gladly call you "son."
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