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thoughts to dump Jun 2022
it all started with a single hi
three days, three nights
of unstoppable phone conversations
life lessons from three decades
of each other's existence
then, one midnight
you drive past the city lights
to meet me on the other side..
Gem Palomar Oct 2021
The glamour,
the lights and flashes,
the gold and the silver,
I call it home.

Crowds filling the seats,
then the shushing,
then the quiet,
and it starts.

They watch and follow,
little prying eyes,
where your feet goes,
where your fingers glide.

After all,
I'm a performer,
and this is the stage
that I call home.

But who stays
after the velvet curtain call.
When the show is done,
who remembers?

And what is remembered?
Aside from the weary bones,
broken ribs,
and flailing arms.

Who stays?
To sit on the red seats,
in the dark,
to watch a wretched performer?
enneagram type 3 - actor and performer
FunSlower Aug 2021
10 times in 10 years is nowhere near enough.
Though these sounds I’ve found,
They’re quite renowned.
They call me on my bluff.

I could call him humble gleaner,
With a will to stand in quicksand.
He knows I get the shakes.
But a minute with him and I’m ready to swim.
He knows I’ve got what it takes.
I should call her Thumbelina,
With the fastest hands in the land.
She’s there with me when I wake.
Through whimsical words and unwavering plans,
We can laugh at every mistake.

Embrace this place. Self pity is never pretty.
He’s so calming, she’s so witty.
So pick up your feet and own their city.
There’s nowhere to hide.
Swallow that pride.
Recall their wise words.
It’s high time to glide.
Noa Adler Jul 2021
I only exist
In the words that I write.
I gleefully skip from line to line,
Basking in the glory
Of momentary inspiration.
I slide carefully from key to key,
Drinking in the soft taps of the keyboard,
Manifesting my way
Into the hearts of all people everywhere.
I crave a stage, a crowd, a platform,
A place to immortalize myself,
To form an identity clean of sin,
To raise a new, sanitized, beating heart
From the ashes to the spotlight.
I wish for my name
To sweep the world off its feet,
To be shouted, or whispered,
Or chanted, or cheered.
I desperately want to be someone,
To be known, and loved,
And adapted to the needs of the watcher.
I dream of being consumed, and approved,
And loved, and needed,
So incredibly needed
That I might just allow myself
To exist either way.
Traveler Nov 2020
My ego tried to impress me
But the fact is, I’m losing ground
When I wrestled with my Demons
God is nowhere to be found

My RNA is failing
In a  blemished tarnished blur
My eyes are getting tired and
I’m searching for my words

My dreams are but exhausted
I’ve lived and lied and loved
I took the devil by his horns
I never did give up!

What sound did I make
What word did I leave out
If I’ve said my all
Where is my curtain call

My dressing room is bear
The end was somewhere in there.
Traveler Tim

Exit stage left
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