I am lying alone in my room and right on cue the film reel clicks alive.
I am the only witness to this shimmering spectre that every quiet moment seems to revive.
The haunted theatre of my heart lights up and soundlessly projects our last golden day onto my mind.
As the scene comes alive I start to feel the icy air that made our cheeks flush red when we rode through your home with our souls intertwined,
I can smell the steaming coffee that twisted around your deep laugh while the cold vanished from our bones.
I can taste the sweet, cigarette tinted ghost of your kiss that was mine and mine alone.

Breathing in the forest air I glide along the track, winding down your memories ignited with a nostalgic glow.
You tell your stories with so much life that I feel as if I am there watching you run, laugh and row.
My feet shift beneath me as we pull ourselves across the water to the island that lies ahead,
We shakily dance along twisted ropes and staggered poles, entripid adventurers going where no soul has dared to tread.
Nervously I venture out on to the ice, testing my weight with each advancing stride
And slowly a grin spreads across my face, I have never felt so free, I have never felt so alive.

As the sun sets on our day the performance winds to an end and the credits start to roll
We turn back towards my mind, bowing and basking in the shower of rose petal tears cascading from my soul.
Fade to black, pull the curtains across the screen, ‘what an act’ they cry, ‘what a show’.
Don’t worry loyal watchers we are here all week, all month, all year, in fact I don’t think we ever plan to go!
Watch this space and wait for a silent second to filter across our stage,
The dance will begin again and again, this story will immortalise us, we will never age.
Aaron LA Lux Jun 8
Cold as Hell,
as paradoxical as that seems,
I know I might seem humble it’s true,
even though on the down low I’ve got high self esteem,

watching Indiana Jones on the big screen,
got little time for nonsense,
even though we seem to make a big scene,

it seems,
that nothing is as it seems,
feeling like Indian Jones,
is it a pot of gold or a hill of beans,

more Jack than Jill,
more Mulder than Gillian,
and things are getting word like the X-Files,
some of the Lizard People are Chameleons,

or better yet Camillions,
money is their sun they bask in it,
on a rock in an ocean call it a continent,
not content at all with the poetic tragicness,

feeling repelled as 2 negatives,
yet as attracted as a magnet is,
anyways what’s my point,
I don’t know I suppose it depends on what your perspective is,

I just call it like I see it,
no filter unedited,
no hashtags just a hash bag,
actually I don’t even smoke that sh!t,

not even a little bit,
that’s not my favorite intoxicant,
anyways I should probably get off my soapbox,
because I seems I am on a rant,

so that’s it I’m done,
heading back to my house in the clouds,
where I can write in silence,
and let me words be as loud as Hell,

cold as Hell,
as paradoxical as that seems,
I know I might seem humble it’s true,
even though on the down low I’ve got high self esteem,

watching Indian Jones on the big screen,
got little time for nonsense,
even though we seem to make a big scene,

it seems,
that nothing is as it seems,
feeling like Indian Jones,
is it a pot of gold or a hill of beans…

∆ LaLux ∆
Ryley Jun 6
My favorite part of every movie was the ending kiss. It was the loudest form of love I've ever seen, fireworks exploding in the air or deep within their veins. I've fallen in love before, but it wasn't like that. It wasn't a tidal wave of lust and need. It was at its best a whisper. A tickle in my stomach and heart. Even as I become more infatuated with them, it is still but a hunch. Whoever said that your quiet love is useless, only gained their experiences through a screen.
Please leave critiques! =)
Persephone Jun 2
They flash across the screen in red, blue, and white suits
Moving like spiders, robots, gods, and soldiers
Wielding destruction charged hammers, capes, shields, and swords

A lifestyle filled with dreams and living
One with the power of winning
And a spec of losing
Until the day they turned to dust
Ashes to ashes they all fall down
bekka walker May 22
If I let my eyes glaze over just right, I get a nice film quality picture.
I hover out of my body- like a mad director, evaluating what we've got, I snip the film strips from my memory, franticaly re-piecing together the story.
I didn't get the shots I wanted.
I feel hollow and sick.
Playing and re-playing the scenes where it all went to the dregs.
Maybe if I were there- I could have gotten it right.
I could've rearranged the shot list- so "major life accident" was at the end of the movie- not the beginning.  

Sorting through what we're left with,
I hear no mellow music scoring my mothers choked sobs.
No soft glow to hide the harsh lines of grief described on her face.
The bottles of liquor weren't props.
And when the sound of silence rendered her breathless-
no one was there to yell "CUT"!
I can't reconcile the words coming out of the children's mouths, that wasn't in the script; they weren't supposed to see the gruesome scenes, it wasn't in their contract.
I grit my teeth and hold back my seething anger at such a shit writer.

This is not a sci-fi film.
No alien plummets to earth eager to turn back the sands of time because there was a fluke in the configubobulator.

Not a romantic comedy,
where his smashed body miraculously recovers and my mother, him, and all the kids pursue their dreams as a family of comics on the road- The jackson 5 of stand up!

No inspiring action film where the government tests a bionic exoskeleton, connects it to his brains nervous system, and after wild success he dedicates his life to intergalactic vigilante work, as well as a remaining a reliable family man.

There's no sending it back for re-writes.

There is no 1 hero to lean on.
No villain to hate.
Only us.
I hope one day, it's enough.

I hope one day we have a film we can be proud of.
5 years ago my step father, my hero, suffered a severe traumatic brain injury at the hands of a motorcycle accident. Today, he's bed ridden- and can't even piss himself. Leaving my mother, and 6 kids.
The
camera
on
me_
Modern Crimes to be
Or you forgot
Set the mood
Or set the stage
My home
Two lovers oversee

Distant
lover
home
My
head
met his sunset
The love reset

Don't hock
my best
China
South Carolina
cultured
Pearl
Ever finer
24 karat
Gold one-sided
Movie blinded

Pick
up the ((Ring))
Molly
Ringwald
Artist
Telemarketers
They cannot act
Like Bald eagles
The Bee Gees
Staying alive
Baby boomers

Place me set me
Marathon
runners
Free me
Bride and Dog Groomer
Barking
abilities

"Beverly Hill of Billies"
Five
willow
tree's
With
anyone
else
But for me?

"Whimpering Willies"

To dream on
Singer Arrow=Smith

How much
he could
have
loved you yeah?

Mans best movie
and dog bark ee-me
Woof La femme bakery

Movie slavery
Not one ounce
of your undivided
attention

That bad movie

Webbed into a mesh
Monochrome
Flesh to flesh

Sex Chromosome

Get me geared up
So willing movie set
His way
no way out
So pay up
"Coffee Creed"
movie cut
my lip

Harvest
pumpkin-head
We
mapped
his
Pitt bulls
long
tongue
In her
Cracker Jacks
Cheerleaders
Well packed
Honey Comb
Movie on the limb

Pocket comb
She left her heart
Movie set
tombstone
Hands
came out
Bella Italian gravy
That
((Hotshot))
graved me
Honey engraved
Bunches
of scary wits
Bunches of Honey
Oats
No redemption

College drunk dorm
Mega babes 3d glasses
Griswall honeymoon
vacation
light my Fire Morrison
Burned me house

A-D
Dump her
disorder
One  pill
makes
your  
movie
Eyes
stone
killer
Screen
LARGER_

Purple hazed me
underestimated
how to  
raise Movie  family

Do what
the
Romans
do drink
screw off
Sweet
Cherry
wine

Roaming hands
Not a valentine
Poem set
She-devil
Styrophome
I Smartphone
Apple-Computer
Made-man dumber

But no one listens!!
Maybe $$$ pants
I need to fasten

The robot
Alexa
Strike
Lotto lucky
Charge him
On his Visa

Next
door girl
Actress Mona
Homebody
His Bodyguard
Is home
Watching?
Diggity Dogs
barking up
Funeral home
Rock and
Roll hall of fame
Cleveland
playing a
game
dead
dying

Count to five trying
Only five fingers left
What happened in
the movie
set?
The movie can be boring old man snoring, please!! We need to make it fun I needed to perk it up a bit so it
fits inside my poem get your buttered up popcorn
Nyx May 1

A room of pure darkness
Lit only by the silver screen
Rows of people sit
All watching the same scene

In the final row we sat
A boy to my right
A Girl to my left
holding my hands tight

The movie begins, all at the edge of our seats
As the movie proceeds, Our happiness deceased
As we reach the end, With the conclusion drawing near
We all sit there shocked, Completely in tears

Our hands tightening, As another disappears
Sweat forming between our palms, As we feel more fear
Knees tucked up tight, You look like an idiot
A sobbing mess you were, But to you this was serious

Your hand covering your mouth, As the salty streams run down your cheeks
Attempting to hold back the sobs that were echoing throughout the cinema
The front few rows all turning around to look, You could hear them giggling
The most heartbreaking scene, Their amused stares were belittling

When the credits begin to roll, You were still shaken up
I also teared up, But I wasn't nearly as bad as you
Rubbing your back to sooth you, To help you relax
While laughing at you, Because you cried to the max

Giving you a hug, You buried your head into my shoulder
This was really quite amusing, As you were so much older
You then throwing a fit, yelling
How can the film makers do this!
At this point we were all laughing at you
Calm down
It was only a movie
Went to see infinity war and by the end of it my friend was gripping my hand and full on sobbing, He was so upset by the ending.
As sad as it was, Just remembering his reaction makes me laugh
Liv Apr 22
i got in line to get a coffee
and noticed a familiar set of strong shoulders
you turned around surprised
we had one of those
'i haven't seen you in forever'
type of looks
you asked me to sit with you
and before we knew it
we were talking how we used to
without even meaning to

you looked up from the table
and itched the back of your neck
just like you used to do
when you were nervous
"what happened to us? we had the kind of love that people made movies about."
i didn't know whether to laugh
or cry
"well you gave me the type of heartbreak that people write about."
Oh - to be seventeen
And beautiful
And musical
With starry dreams!
To be naive
And full of hope
And never mope
And want to live!

And yet...

How too quickly
A dream can be crushed -
A strong voice shushed -
Left down and sickly.
How easily
A harsh decision
Can rock a vision
Into disbelief.

But still...

This is just a scene
We’re still in Act One -
Not close to done!
Page seventeen.
It’s too soon to see
The hero’s fate
We’ll have to wait
Until your Act Three.
Movies often use a three act structure to unfold a story (exposition, rising action, resolution).  I’ve always liked the notion of being the hero of your own life movie and the recognition that each person’s existence tells a story... and At 17 there is still a lot more plot to uncover even if the protagonist seems to be struggling.
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