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Asher 6d
I want to be a vtuber,
a pixelated dream,
to dance on a virtual stage,
adorable, agleam.

I want to be an idol,
a songbird on display,
to twirl beneath the spotlight,
in a shimmering ballet.

I want to be a teacher,
to guide and to inspire,
to plant seeds of knowledge
and watch them catch fire.

I want to be famous,
my name a whispered prayer,
to revel in the chaos
of adoration's snare.

I want to be problematic,
a storm you can't ignore,
to stir the hearts of critics,
to leave them wanting more.

I want people to judge me,
to love me through their hate,
to draw the broken masses
like moths to flame's estate.

I want to be known,
to etch my name in skies,
to bask in fleeting glory,
to chase eternal highs.

I can be anything,
a shapeshifting cascade,
a dreamer, a rebel,
a shadow, a parade.
Asher Nov 30
Why do I bother, wasting time,  
On men who fumble, fail to climb?  
They lack the sense, the common thread,  
To face the world with a steady head.  

Each word they speak, a careless blade,  
Cutting paths of foolish shade.  
I start to hate, with rising fire,  
The hollow sound of their desire.  

They stumble, fall, and miss the mark,  
Leaving chaos in the dark.  
It burns within, it twists my mind
Why can't they ever just be kind?  

And yet, I wonder, is it me,  
Trapped by my own expectancy?  
A bitter cycle, a mirrored pain
Will I, too, break this chain?
Jeremy Betts Nov 9
With the passing of the years
The good disappears
Take inventory,
What's left for me?
Only nightmares and fears
Lies for the heart, mind and ears
Wasted light-years
A husk of a man appears
Drained from fighting through iron bars and chains with nothing but tears
The blind leading the blind
While the blind steers
Grinding through all the gears
With the numbing effect of false help from **** and beers
A deluge of judgment from peers
The worst kind of souvenirs
And yet still my heart peers
Looking for new frontiers
Maybe after the glue adheres
From past repairs
But I'm racing an end that nears

©2024
Jeremy Betts Oct 29
No one will be there
To witness me leaping
But they'll line up in droves
To judge me and my chosen ending

©2024
Jeremy Betts Oct 9
Thoughts berate with little truth
While memories choose when to lie
Often words spoken change nothin'
Though time and time again they try
Feel free to take your unspoken to the grave
What is spun by the victor is sung forever
A good liar proclamation should have been taken as a warning
But judgment sees through even the best of pretender

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jun 13
You only judge;
Or misjudge, the minimal effort you saw while my mind was gagged and bound
The many breakdowns you were a part of where no fix could be found
And the deluged of tears you hardly stuck around long enough to see hit the ground

You never asked;
About the profound effort of simply starting a day on the day priors rebound
About the countless cries that tried to break through the red tape but never found sound
Or about the tears I was told weren't allowed to form with other people around

Leaving me to question;
Can a life be built on the middle ground?
I guess the more important question is,
Do you desire to turn this thing around?
Is there any interest,
What-so-ever,
In seeing if a middle can even be found?
I'd appreciate your response but don't expect to see one come around

Fool heartedly yours,

The Crying Clown

©2024
Francis Oct 2023
Someone told me,
To water my own grass,
But what they neglected to mention,
Is that my grass is crass.

This is due to my unfortunate past,
Every minute spent kissing ***,
To be walked on and trampled by,
Boots and heels of brass.

So no, I will most certainly not,
Water my own grass,
The thoughts and evaluations,
Of the judgment I pass,
Is necessary and voluntary,
In a sea of largemouth bass.
Another poem about judgment of character since I’m always in defense.
"horrible bird"
she called it
telling of how
she had watched
a crow pluck
and pry at
its weakened prey
while perched upon
the bird bath
outside her window
at the garden's edge
despite this sternest
of lessons
nature at its most fickle
she still sits
in her comfy chair
looking out
over a bank of flowers
buoyant in bloom
enjoying the sight
of wagtail
bunting and finch
alighting on the stone plinth
pompous and preening
refreshing themselves
admiring the plumage
of their reflection
before returning once more
to wing and wind
Heidi Franke Apr 2023
Start with self.
The others can wait.

Thoughts are just passing clouds for which to meditate.
Observe the world as the observer, not the taker or receiver.

Judges are for benches. Do not sit alone.
   Stand and walk into the songs of birds.
   Free within your self called home.
You discriminated against me my whole life.
Good luck being discriminated against in Hell forever.
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