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Blois Oct 2017
What do I know about you, really?
For certain, only a few things.
Nothing about pictures or loves,
about the ghosts in your heart,
or something as simple as your cigarrette brand.
I've noticed that I know just enough
so I can never reach.

We can die laughing, that's true
and that is important for someone
who doesn't laugh enough. As I.

If I told you that I wouldn't mind to know
what make your eyes like two burnt holes in a blanket,
would you shred my ears to pieces?

If I confessed that I hang on your words
like a thrilled coward, that I have died many times,
would you fell silent?

These are the kind of questions
someone who doesn't know have.

I accept that I also keep people in the dark.
Flying blind, they must think "here goes nothing",
while they yearn for the ground. Have I done that to you?

If I was to fling myself onto you, for that matter,
absurd as the notion sounds, would you flinch away
and ask me to give my head a shake?

I know we are getting into the realm of imposible things,
of things that can blow in my face. Don't mind me,
let me quietly keep on barking to the moon.

Let's get this to a conclusion.
Of the few things I know, one is this:
you told me you are dark chocolate.
I will be sincere and confese that
I don't see where you're coming from.
One thing I know and I tell you now,
your are sweeter than that.
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
Mumok Museum

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
good credit better than good morals,
we don’t praise Muhammed in a daze with TV Dramas,
no Buddha just computers no real friends just PayPals,

and maybe that’s why we’d rather be blind than see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind sunglasses,
but would you rather have expense tastes than be free,
because when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped,

where in a Federal Pen with Madoff or a Penthouse with Paris in Paris,
either way we’re victims of our own restrictions trying to buy some more time to be,
but we’re running out of credit the banks are collapsing the recession is relapsing,
so why even try to by when we know not so secretly that only Love will truly set us free,

see,

the best things in life still are free,
and yeah liberation is expensive and self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless,
and it seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels are too tight on my thighs and this macabre carnival has no prize,
and I can do anything I want with my life but sometimes all I want to do is breather,

breathe,
breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they market it and try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax and release,
all of this,
fck their politics,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their agendas dressed in artificial splendor,
fck their treating human beings as objects,
fck their consumerism culture of capitalists,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding on the top floor on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor I just want to give more,
just want to gift these words then make my escape,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known,
but where do you go when you’re tired and over it all,
and you just want to rest but don’t have nor ever had a home,

hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
and I want to come back even though I’m already gone,

on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
on the 5th floor to be exact,
and yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m coming back,

online and off track,
writing more words that rhyme,
then any other living writer,
and that is an actual fact,

and yeah that’s a fact,
but I’m going to follow that with a question,
before I forget,
let me just ask what I am doing in Vienna,

what am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Zara Oct 2017
Eyes are stinging slightly,
the tiredness is always there.
The world of sleep is mighty,
through days it makes us bear.

Oh it could be so easy,
to fall fast asleep.
It would be less painful,
than to lay awake and weep.

Weep is not the only thing,
sometimes I stay awake and ponder.
At times I even laugh and smile,
and ever so often I wonder.

Because at night it's still and silent,
and my thoughts have room to roam.
So why should I fall into slumber,
when my thoughts have found their home.  

A night owl people call me,
but that's the wrong phrase to use.
I love to sleep no more than you,
but at night my thoughts let loose.

So don't you even question,
the naps I take at day,
It's bright and loud and noisy,
and my thoughts are far away.
Tab Oct 2017
can you turn dust into honey?
can you turn a vision into a memory?
can you turn a badly worded poem into a coping mechanism?
can you keep living like this?
this makes no sense but when does anything i write?
Brooklyn René Oct 2017
How
How can you make me feel so alive and warm and the next moment make me feel so dead?
How can you give me everything and take it all away and leave me so empty?  
How can one bring so much happiness and despair all in one breath?
Jamie Rose May 2017
What if all the colors we see are wrong?
What if there is not a difference in skin color or a rainbow?
What if our brain makes up what we see so the world will seem less dull?
What if God is a scientist and our universe is simply an experiment?
What if the air we breath is like water and when people go missing it's because a greater being went fishing and the people who were abducted were just caught and sent back?
What if our lives are just an illusion and we're somewhere in a test tube?
What if extras in movies cause everything that happens in the main character's life?
What if we all die tomorrow?
What if we all live tomorrow?
Juniper Phillips Oct 2017
My heart fills with joy.
My mind fills with uncertainty.
Uncertainty with life,
Uncertainty with myself,
Uncertainty with the joy in my heart.
I want the joy but my mind questions it.
It wonders how to get it.
It can't figure out how to get the true joy.
My mind gets stuck with the imitation.
But one day, I hope the imitation will flee and my heart and mind can be free of uncertainty.
Breeze-Mist Oct 2017
There's a memory of a long time ago
Or was it a dream? How could I know
It's not as if I could ask you as to wether it's true
As if there were anything asking could do
But than I think of the shouting and it seems
Real enough to run from, to want to cry or scream

Was it really a laptop, or was it a plate
That was thrown against the wall, irate
Or maybe the whole thing never really happened
Maybe I misheard something, I was mistaken
Besides, it was nine years ago, I was too young
To even really realize what was going on
But even back then, I knew I was frightened
When I heard a crash before the fight ended

And some days I wonder if I would feel this way
If it was the man doing this to the woman one day
You're against abuse, and try to call out wife beaters
But you applaud a girl who whacks a guy when he cheats her
And I wonder why, if you say you care
Why you sometimes say things that make me wish I weren't there

And I wonder why you don't respect my space
Walking up to my form like you own the place
And I know you mean well, but could you stop
Sneaking up and hugging me in a way I'd rather not
I know you have good intentions, but why can't you see
That there's a reason I'm starting to get a little jumpy

But these are the things I'll never ask
Because I'm to spineless to find out at last
So here I sit, writing an interwebs litany
With a secret profile on a site you'll never see
Brianna Oct 2017
tell me sweet love of mine-

aren't you tired of always asking the same question over and over again?

I am.
Victoria Oct 2017
When is ok to touch me
Without my permission
When is ok to grab me and make me
Touch you
Without my permission
Is it when I've had a drink
Is it when you don't think
Is it when I smile
Is it when it's "been awhile"
Is it when I give you a "come get me" look
Is it when your shook
Is it when I said no
Is it when you called me **
Is it when I begged you to let me go
Is it when you said **** no
Is it when I tried to run
Is it when you said its just for fun
Is it when I gave up
Is that when you tested your luck
When
When was it ok to make me feel
Like less of a human
Was that the deal
When was it ok to make me cry
To make me feel like I wanted to die
When was it ok at all
When was it ok to make me fall
When
When
When?
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