#clubbing
I don’t usually talk about a club, in the club
but last night I was chattering breathlessly, at midnight,
about how right the club had gotten its atmosphere.
I’m never quite sure, design-wise, what’s ‘now’ and
what’s retro nuance.
My bf Peter said the design was “Warholism,” whatever THAT is.
I gave him a puzzled look and he said. “The Factory?”
Like that meant something.
Why is he so much smarter than me? It’s unjust.
Lets wax poetically..
The drinks were priced like artifacts
but we ordered them like essentials.
A club is a machine calibrated for pleasure.
Similar to real life, but with much better lighting
plus their decors are tuned to optimistic escapism.
Last night’s club, was all chrome and blue light
making us feel like we were on a spaceflight
Clubs hit escape velocity around midnight
when everyone’s having their own garish moment
- crowds roll in on the vibe, and things warm up.
When moving on the floor started to feel like work
we escaped the ordinary for the cooler mezzanine
We arrived as our drinks were being freshened up
I tip well and they’re happy to manage my money
It was a good thing. Our generation doesn’t know
how to wait without looking like we’re waiting.
BTW: Don’t you LOVE anti-spiking drink covers?! #justbrilliant
ok, now it’s this morning (Saturday).
My head is pounding, as if someone were striking it,
every thirty seconds or so, with a timpani malot.
“That was the LAST time..” I moan, but I was being ironic.
I know it’s not true, Peter knows it’s not true, I know, he knows,
I know it’s not true - but he gets my meaning - that’s irony.
Peter never seems to have a hangover and at times it pi$$es me off.
“How do you feel,” I ask him in my smallest voice - lest I awake the timpanist.
“Fine,” he says, with an enjoyable sense of righteousness.
He sips his coffee as if he has not a care.
“You’re only fine because your head is empty,” I lash out in a whisper.
.
.
A song for this:
Can't Tame Her by Zara Larsson
Tears by Sabrina Carpenter [E]
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 7:03 AM UTC
Oh Lord! Oh Lord!
The masses, the masses
the masses rise at the mid of night.
A once-empty pit begins to writhe,
A growth of flesh and sweat.
The clocks drag, for the unadled mind.
This place of torturous joy.
The individuals act as one,
Without a master, they think the same.
Closer and closer they cram,
as their number grow,
an endless inward flow.
The lights flicker and music blares.
One drink at a time, upright corpses
the patrons shift.
As the sun does rise
these husks do flee.
They live among you and me,
but these creatures, humans, cannot be.
(4-19-25, review of a club in Barcelona)
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 11:31 PM UTC
You're out of sight, out of mind,
Your shadow can't haunt me tonight.
Under the lights, I'll find my way,
Escape the sorrow, drown the pain.
I want to dance and sing along,
Like in a trance, lost in the song.
*** & coke, smoke, disco ball,
Bottoms up, next round—let's go.
The groove gets me carried away,
With every move—rewind, replay.
Worries pause, but my heartbeat
Syncs itself with every beat.
My shirt is soaked, but eyes are dry,
It feels so good to be alive.
I'm swept away with reckless ease,
I've kissed a thousand memories.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 8:11 AM UTC
Walk confidently, stumble dramatically
and smile through the cringe.
It’s Brittany's law: If it’s embarrassing, it’ll happen in public.
“I was doing a gravity check,” I told the gawkers, as I picked up my stuff.
When you mash it all together, there really hasn’t been, what I’d deem, a winter in Paris - I like my winters bitter.
Yes, I used my &Other Stories checked buckle-belt trench coat a few times and here, I’m relying on my own impressions, not hard data - but I walk a lot - to and from the metro and I would’ve noticed New Haven like snow or polar bears. I think.
My daily wardrobe, these days, is high-rise straight jeans, a Tommy Hilfiger oversized fit adjustable cuffs poplin shirt, and Irina Ballerina ‘glove’ ballet flats and perhaps, a morning cashmere sweater
(that won’t wrinkle in my book bag later).
Fashion houses are going to try and sell you intentionally wrinkled, ‘messy girl,’ hot mess fashion this year - just say no.
My lord and savior - Steve Jobs - preached elegant hi-tech and wardrobe simplification, and both work for me.
I don’t have time for a lot of decisions in the morning, if you looked in my closet, you’d see:
8 pairs of jeans and 8 shirts (4 white, 2 baby-blue and 2 crimson)
a Treasure & Bond suede swing Jacket
4 pairs of flats and 2 folded, dark gray, Lafayette 148 brushed cashmere button front cardigans
all in key-lit, Feng shui’d simplicity.
If you’ve never Feng shui’d a space then you’re missing something. Simplification = peace of mind.
If you can, try Feng shui. Pick a room or even a closet, and switch it up like Nintendo - get rid of every extraneous piece of furniture, every bit of clutter, like knickknacks and tell me you can’t feel your mind relax in that space.
on the fun side..
We went to the Moulin Rouge last weekend and yes, the red curtains are still hanging, and women still dance in diamonds and skin.
The 2-hour show was stunning and even though there were naked ******* the ladies looked like angels. Even clowns are bare breasted at the Moulin Rouge. Now, when I picture angels - they have *******
I find myself listening to Olivia Dean and Harry Styles these days and Rosalía’s album Lux is a masterpiece.
see ya!
.
.
A song for this:
Music For a Sushi Restaurant by Harry Styles
Lady Lady by Olivia Dean
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 11:26 AM UTC
TS Eliot said, “Paris is a strong stimulant.”
It is - but it has nothing on Manhattan.
If Paris is a Café Crème espresso at a café-en-terrasse under the stars.
Manhattan is a ‘Black Tie Bawls’ cocktail at The Crown bar (the skyline!).
We were going to relax - in Manhattan,
instead, keep those seat belts fastened.
Lisa said, one night, “Want to go out for a bit?”
Since then, I’ll admit, our nights have been lit.
We have ten days, and we’ve decided to try every Michelin-starred restaurant we can (there are 68 in NYC). So far, we’ve been to Eleven Madison Park, Le Bernardin and Per Se. This was Lisa’s idea.
The food is delicious - if you like a corn-flake with something on it or a steak the size of a bouillon cube ($250 per person with cocktails and dessert). As we left ‘Per Se’ I asked, “Can we get something to eat now? I’m starved.” I was only ½ kidding.
It’s MY idea to visit every beautix rooftop bar in Manhattan (there are exactly10). So far, we’ve been to, ‘The Peninsula,’ ‘230-Fith’’ and ‘NoMad’ - we’ve only been at these tasks for three nights.
We’re doing other things too. We’re going to Broadway shows (& Juliet, the Great Gatsby, Oh Mary!, Wicked) and to see Idina Menzel (Wicked, Frozen) in concert and a John Oliver and Seth Meyers comedy show next Monday. We do these, as in - Dinner, show, rooftop bar.
OH, and we’re dancin’ like we’re sentient - no cap.
Our sordid troup, is Lisa and Dave (her boo), Charles & Ms Charles, Lisa’s folks (Karen and Michael) and Lisa’s little sister Leeza and Meeeee. Luckily, we have one of my Grandmère’s conglomerate, executive secretarial minions (François) booking reservations for us. He’s got ‘contacts.’
Yeah, we’re drivin’ full speed towards summer’s end - “fo-shizzle” (to quote Snoop Dogg). We figure we can rest, a few days, in New Haven.
Wasn’t Snoop fire at the Olympics?
.
.
dance club songs, for this one:
One Kiss by Calvin Harris & Dua Lipa
Lipstick by Kungs
Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter [E]
Levitating by Dua Lipa
.
.
slang…
café-en-terrasse = terrace cafe
Black Tie Bawls = (cocktail) Blavod black ***** lemon, and Bawls energy drink.
beautix = top drawer, rizz
No cap = no lie
fo-shizzle = for sure
fire = great, a standout
[E] = explicit
Aug 13, 2024
Aug 13, 2024 at 4:57 PM UTC
(inspired by ‘Dusty Rose Dreaming’ by vb)
We’re powdered city girls heading into a club,
bright orchids entering the hothouse,
spreading fun with noblesse oblige,
qua somethings suited for silver screens.
Our attention’s as uncertain as the stock market.
Experts at mixing trickery and disguise,
we’re but vague summations of nature,
as we sparkling preen, like excited atoms.
Rouged and kohled to unnatural colors,
dressed in silk-whispers to tease and entice,
in neon-light, broken by par-cans, scanners
and champagne flutes, we’re superhero-like
immune to societal judgment and aghast rebuke.
In our few, fleeting nights of youth
let our voices chorus in laughter.
What’s it to you? Tell the truth.
.
.
Songs for this piece:
Baby You’re a Superstar by NuDisco
Love Land by the Blenders
Nostalgie Du Voyage by Nightflight
Apr 21, 2024
Apr 21, 2024 at 1:10 PM UTC
It’s Friday night and a group of us, the ‘university summer fellows’ (Quinn, Jammie, Monique, Lisa and I) are going groovin’. Quinn, a Harvard man (we’ve shed our jaundiced opinions of him), assured us he knows the Boston bar scene. We’re going to test that.
We told him we wanted to sway to whimsical beats and chase vivid, neon lights across dance floors, like a bunch of cats - till the hours get wee. His plan is for us to pop-in the “touristy” places, like ‘the Havana Club’, ‘the Manray club’, ‘Garage Boston’ and ‘The Grand’, we’re so 111. As usual, Charles is our party mom, escort and driver.
When Peter and I were in Saint-Tropez, earlier this summer, there were beach clothes - dresses, skirts and men's shirts - where they’d woven micro-LEDs into the flowered, dry-wick, fabrics. I think the effect is amazing, friday, and joyous. I got two skirts for everyone (all of my roommates). Tonight Lisa and I are wearing a couple of them.
Funny. I’ve mentioned it before, but Lisa‘s an audrey. Her school friends and roommates are all used to it, we’ve been exposed, we have built up immunity. But Quinn’s a newbie, when Lisa came into the living room, LED glittered and lookin-right, he was literally stunned. He froze, for a microsecond, his face went blank and his fingers wiggled, as if disconnected from his overloaded central nervous system.
*** Jammie said, having just turned around, “holla at ya brooke!,” he declared, shaking his head in admiration. “Umm mmm,” he added.
“I’m sure.” Lisa said, starting to transfer things from her everyday bag to her glittery clutch, the girl cannot accept a compliment. Quinn, coming out of it, cleared his throat.
We’re ready. Let Friday night begin!
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 12:12 PM UTC
afterparty mingle in a single bedroom vault wincing ceiling slopes so low condemning matter dance to fumbles and more penetrating life forces gum-balls into stressed room couple and squirm over into the crawl space hazardous music and metallic humour is pushing risks and insult no being is out of place pouting the smoke and store brand alcohol routing and deafening and defeating too much the gagster comes thundering down the corridor like he was wrought for applause he addresses those outside the room and it's wagging dogs and a face of cartoony ballooning pep it's hard to handle the wash of wording an assault of enthusiasm jester baits laughter with an old polaroid camera slamming open the door all tension his way he presses the button and projects them all against the walls 'Flash ****** ! ' he squells throws aside the camera 'People Pile!' he thumps into the crowd bed begging a play fight baroque girl hugging her knees crammed under the small sink to the side of the door reaches out a nervy hand and takes the discarded camera watches the ********** photo paper fade in slow retch her own pose lone excluded soul separate and saved she leaves with souvenir
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 6:22 PM UTC
his own & this world's realities are like the fuzz in the States
they're ones to escape, which is a plan of attack
that, like a unit of ammo dispatched
to the bean of a **** autocrat dying physically damaged & sad
hits his deli̲ght-bankrupt brain; like Donald the dung piece, today
he feels bold, so maybe there'll be, like abundance of cake
["bald"]
fortune coming his way
["fortis fortuna adiuvat"/"fortune favors the bold"]
————————————————————————————————
this one's a schmuck thing to say
but this club reminds of Ukraine (what?)
he, like motorized cavalcades from the next-door empire, invades
its territory causing, like unaccommodating writer, a sla[ɛ]m
[Eminem & his "Unaccommodating" song]
as he shuts the door frame; obvi, sO̲me people may
find them bars offensive, like an armed aggression
so my apologies, I'm somewhat ashamed
mainstream house stuff is on play
a thought in his skull: "this is lame"
Michael S. straight after he turned around & stumbled on blamed
Toby F.; through the crowd he cuts like a blade
[the ending of the "Frame Toby" episode cold open from "The Office" series]
having hopped U̲p on the stage
as if it were a narcotic substance you've ta'en
he, so loud as if with his cullions in grave
nU̲t-wrenching pain, bawls: "THIS ****** ***** like a brace
of someO̲ne's OTKs colored with stains
***** "so[ɑ]cks"]
of blood; a schoolgirl on sO̲me yandere[eɪ]
sh#t; disgruntled, he makes for the f#cking DJ
delivers a verbal punch in his face by the fo[ɑ]llowing phrase:
"boy, go house-sit with your confounded
boring house sh#t, just like a housewyf"
whereafter thrusts him away
ending the uproar with "ciao, drip!"
music-wise, it's gon' go hard as nuts in this place
as if a flock of ones who're deranged
["who're" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "whoor"]
swung by a club in the wake of a ****** ho[ɑ]spital break (nuts in this place)
he puts on midtempo dark cyberpunky synthwave
Gesaffelsteinish mid-paced
type of music; that's what drives his crumpet insane
speaking of crumpets, he spots a buxomish babe
while nodding his ******* nut to this cray
music, he feels like a **** being aimed
at, for she stands with her sight, like one of a gun, fixed his way
————————————————————————————————
for a few secs, at each other they gaze
she's quite a fox with her vibrant locks
reminding of flame; somebody call a fire brigade
hourglass-shaped & rigged out in tight pa[ɛ]nts & a blouse
with a U̲-neck, like a fella without
***** & leaving her waist a bit out
******
on display; he makes his way to this frau
salutates her with "ciao"
she greets him with just the same, then he mouths
the following: "babe, you're way like a house
for lodging that's nowhere to be found
that is, in the deep of a labyrinth"
she's like: "what in the void's name's this about?"
he replies: "I'ma translate that one now"
"the way you look's amazing, ten out
of ten", like that "KleanColor" skin bro[ɑ]nzer
["a maze inn"; "Tan Out Of Tan"]
she makes a soft smile, then replies: "ain't you nice, pal
when you lay your thoughts out?"
"not being nice would be a crime
when you face a fine gal
like you", - he replies
"if so, rejecting the company of a guy so gracious would count"
as a crime too", - she replies
being a music ****** with such a need fO̲r it it's
stuff he cA̲[ɛ]n't live without
the guy asks the gI̲rl if she
is ta'en with this sound
her reply is affirmative
she says she mostly faves underground
kinds of music; they vibe
to these tunes being pU̲t on, just like
that loony sh#twipe the whole antifa community'd like
to see end up ruined, just like
Aleppo or Mariupol; stop, I'd
like, before the main telling resumes, to rewind
a little: the newly-met vibe
to these hard-hitting beats put on; he finds
out, when asking her what drinkable fluid she'd like
to have, that she deems it uncool to imbibe *****
he replies: "to tell you the truth, so do I"
so if there's somebody to end up lit during this night
it is the moon in the sky
["some body"]
————————————————————————————————
soon after having their soft drinks taken, they bounce
like the name of the style
of music brought into this wO̲rld heaps
before chicks twerking
blew into the mainstream like "blaow!"
["hips"]
like a sick pervert that digs scourging
while engaged in a bout
of carnal fun, he's got a whip ordered
they wait for several mins for it
finally, the motorized conveyance comes out
like a deb girlie
[debutante]
he trails this fox like she's prey to hunt down
watching her proceed to[–]ward it
in a way like she's on a catwalk waving around
a rig splurgy
having hopped in it, to a lodging place they set out
the saucy look in her eyes
once his palm is put on her thigh
a kind of luminous sign–
–board reading: "absolutely alright
with going on a lewd spree tonight"
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 4:52 AM UTC
It’s 1:30am and we were at a cute little dance club in Dublin called “The Sugar Club.” It’s a converted movie theater with tables in stadium seating rows. That night was Salsa themed, and the regulars were stylin’ - the men dressed in white Havana or Colima, Italian Linen and women in bright salsa dresses.
The DJ was mixing a gr8 groove - with music from Bassia, Brazilian Girls, Kate the Cat, with some ElectroSwing thrown in from Tape Five, Pink Martini and Doja Cat (Yes, I asked the DJ for his playlist). The tiny, darkly-disco-sparkling dance floor was crowded and refrigerator cold.
We had a good time. Irish guys are funny and unpredictable, they’ll say practically anything, “Shall I buy you a drink, or do you just want the money?” and those brogues make everything they say spankin’ hot.
We all danced a few times, but Sunny’s a gwyn who never seemed to tire. Guys kept asking her to dance and she seemed happy to oblige - I would have collapsed already.
There was a dead-fit guy, Rían, throwing a strong Chris Evans vibe, who seemed completely smitten with Sunny. He seemed a real dean but he didn’t 404 that Sunny’s femme-facing and that he might as well be offering lettuce to a shark.
We’d discussed the possibility that things might come up and decided to avoid delicate public acts of disclosure (Sunny’s gay, Leong’s a communist, etc..) - we’re trespassing different cultures on this trip, after all.
We explained to Rían that we were students, just in town for the Duran Duran concert, and consoled him with a couple of “Black & Golds” (Kahlua, whiskey and orange bitters) - he was a LOT of fun to talk to.
The bartender asked me if I was one of the colleens with “Margot Robbie” - he was referring to Lisa - which Anna found amusing - but I think Lisa’s way phater than Margot.
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 3:32 PM UTC
there is a collection of beautiful things
on the street at three in the morning.
i know this because i am one of them;
tomorrow, i will be human again,
but tonight, i am divine. tonight,
i am the beer bottle rattling, unbroken,
sea-glass against the cobblestone.
i have been seen and been consumed,
which, at three in the morning
(in a collection of beautiful things on the street)
is the human experience. to live, divine—
or something like that.
so, meet me in the neon lights.
where am i? look into them as if the sun,
and find apollo. there i'll be.
Apr 12, 2022
Apr 12, 2022 at 12:00 PM UTC
Flashing lights,
Chocolate delights,
crack a can, sip through it,
blast some music,
sounds like a party?
A party for one...
sorry Shania Twain,
ain't no party for two tonight...
this gal goin solo...
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 10:33 PM UTC
Saturday night, I feel the air is getting hot,
gearing up for some pre-drinks,
then heading into Notts.
Round to my mates,
he's already playing Dance Classics by Kisstory,
an insight into British club history in all its glory.
The splendour of The Hacienda,
Fabric sounded magic,
the thrills at Turnmills.
Blasting out Where Love Lives by Alison Limerick,
Too Young To Die by Jamiroquai,
and Sounds of Eden by Shades of Rhythm.
It gets you in the mood,
of course it does, how can it not?
We sit around talking a lot,
then login to Facebook,
see which bars are offering what,
pound-a-pint and half-price shots.
Text around,
who else is in town?
We'll give you a shout once we get to Revolution,
the club solution is Oceania.
Disco floor,
we know the bouncers on the door.
Cut the queue,
annoying for everyone else,
but you would do it too.
Throwin' shapes with my mates all night,
break-dancing, the robot, pop n' lock until two o'clock,
a bunch of geeks,
we're too ****** to care about critiques.
Anyway, we're having a good time,
a bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime,
a few shots of Sambuca,
I'm doing fine.
I'm starving, time to get some food,
ravenous,
it's a whole mood,
into the nearest takeaway,
look at the display,
ten-inch pizza, or just some fries? Maybe both?
I'll go for a Kebab, chicken and salad, with added Mayo,
let's go,
there's a party starting nearby,
people getting high with a constant supply.
It's getting light out,
people are asleep around my feet,
time to leave,
walking back from the city,
this place looks pretty with the morning dew and light layers of fog,
one ******** runner out for a jog.
Later that day, a bit hungover,
I swear I'm never going to drink again,
well, not for a few weeks anyway,
maybe next weekend,
if there's another night-out, I might attend.
Might?
What a load of *****
I'm definitely going and show no signs of slowing down,
that point will come,
but for now, I'm still young,
just go out and have some fun.
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 6:44 PM UTC
*****
how would you like it
the bartender
sighs the lord’s name in vain
understood the slurred wittiness
wobble onto stool
****** over
joining the rest of the line
sweet
the sound
system jests that one song
about a breakup
puke on the sofa next to your carpet
it’s yellow
swayed hips
shoulders give way
diluted In and Out closed
turn over
moist
to the Devil’s dance floor
where a pretty ugly Frenchie took your wrist
foot strikes a patch of ice
popped cherry on a yellow wheel stop
get up dizzy
scrape on forearm
the impassionate spring fever
wrapped around neck
constrains body against
*****
hands stroked rock hard back
she asks if she could have a stick
reached into baggies
pulled out a yellow
she takes halo
you took halo
got into the convertible
a silent triumph when you insert your key
twist
---
by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC
Then comes the danger,
pretends it's a friend.
Infamous liars,
ultimate desires.
Intoxication
and the fuckin' rest.
Hours and hours
to be the best.
A balance to be re-dressed.
The best fuckin' dancer,
fuckin' chancer.
Don't get ****** . .
. in
sin
sin
Good luck!
Kaydee.
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 12:05 PM UTC
Half Batman half Robin,
Houston we have a problem,
and you don’t want no problem with me,
I’m off balanced and on one,
at the head of the table,
Delilah’s on a Sunday,
not willing but I am able,
I guess we’ve all gotta go one day,
but that day is not today,
or tonight got two lights,
one for the occasional cigarette,
and one that’s a Brunette that burns bright,
feeling cliche as fck but that’s okay because you know what,
we are at the top of the pyramid so it only makes sense we’re high,
hi I’m high,
how are you,
haven’t seen you in awhile might’ve been forever till now,
then you appear like a ghost at a haunting and say “Boo!”,
ooh,
the things you do your new name’s Obsession,
it’s ironic that you asked me to have a staring contest,
since I’d confessed that I was already staring,
had my eye on you as soon as you entered the room,
I was perched in my throne at the head of the table,
but I was thrown when you waltzed in like a Godsend,
my God you’re the stuff of fairytales and fables,
the only one I wanted to talk to,
to in that whole venue,
and we’re talking Delilah’s not a dive bar,
so you know there were some quality options from which to choose,
but we both knew it was a rap,
as soon as you read the poem I’d wrote on that napkin,
and yeah this is Hollywood,
so yeah sometimes that kind of magic still happens,
you gave me your number in front of your boyfriend,
and didn’t even care so I didn’t either,
because we’re True Lovers,
we’re The Proof that can turn any sceptic into a True Believer,
a combination of all things yet still totally unique,
and yeah we’ve got our issues but hey we’ve all got our problems,
so we come together like two phones tethered or better yet bare feet on a beach,
and then we get ghost and disappear outta the reach of their nonsense,
peace!
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
October 8th, 2018
Hollywood, CA.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
Been over seven years
since I've been in the club
What in my mind made me want to come
I wasn't sure that I was still young enough
Even though my mentality,
is probably younger than most the people here
Got grey hairs in my beard
Though I'm only twenty-nine
Kind of let myself go body wise
Haven't even had that much experience in this life
And now I'm entering the prime
Everywhere I look, girls, be dancing
Boys on the prowl looking for lustful romancing
And I'm standing here
Think I'm losing control
Of my mind, body and soul
I'm moving to the music
Feel the sway
Never to old
to feel the music flowing
through these bones
Never to old
To feel my heart beating to the rhythm
All these feelings I've been given
Out on display
Through movements see what the lyrics say
Let the beat come alive
As your body moves in time
Under these flashing lights
And now that these tunes
Have taken me over
I've lost all senses to even care
Just need a night to let my hair down
Not a care in the world now
As I'm lost in the groove
That's when I noticed her
As I look towards your blue-eyed gaze
A feeling lights me up
From a smile that you gave
When I looked your way
Sticking too the moment
as I'm swept across the floor
Through these movements that I make
As melodies remedy everything in me
She glides across the room
Just to tell me what she had to say
And the words that fell from her lips
"Would you like to dance with me?"
I'm moving to the music
Feel the sway
Never to old
to feel the music flowing
through these bones
Never to old
To feel my heart beating to the rhythm
All these feelings I've been given
Out on display
Through movements see what the lyrics say
Let the beat come alive
As your body moves in time
Under these flashing lights
And now that these tunes
Have taken me over
I've lost all senses to even care
Just need a night to let my hair down
Not a care in the world now
The DJ was bringing down the room
With all those dance anthems qued
And as I pulled you closed to my chest
A change of pace
In the playlist, the DJ played
A song that filled the club
As sweet vocals softly and slowly build
To a climactic chill
that runs down your spine
I feel her heartbeat next to mine
The goosebump on my skin
Make my hairs stand like soldiers
So much room to breathe
I feel free
I feel free
I'm moving to the music
Feel the sway
Never to old
to feel the music flowing
through these bones
Never to old
To feel my heart beating to the rhythm
All these feelings I've been given
Out on display
Through movements see what the lyrics say
Let the beat come alive
As your body moves in time
Under these flashing lights
And now that these tunes
Have taken me over
I've lost all senses to even care
Just need a night to let my hair down
Not a care in the world now
©2018 Written By Benji James
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
I danced all night in the dress He gave us--
Pins stuck in my hips
Zippered through my spine
I even painted my lips
To match His werewolf eyes
"You're beautiful baby"
He takes in a mouthful
I slink at the waist
Just how He likes me
"Let's get you a drink"
And I feel the sway
He bathes me in blood
He takes me away
Tonight I'll be His **** nurse
His seasoned strip steak thigh
His Only 18
His innocent eyes
Tomorrow I will lick the wounds
And pray He'll call again
Tomorrow marks another night
Of dancing in His dress
--
c
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
lost in smoke that swirls like ghosts
round music and laughter that sways in stride
blurred by ***** my eyes sweep slowly
through the flickers and clicks of bodies
I search for an opening to make my escape
drowning in thoughts of lust and lines to spin
unable to speak them even to myself
I am not this
gameroom for hollow pleasures
far cries to fill the void
left by love not perceived
therefore unattainable
through the mist of emotional waste
as I prepare to depart
a voice caught me blind and sliced the silent noise
in a deafening whisper
'breathe deep' she said
as a hand turned me to the left
she stood as light in a desert of shadows
she was all I could see
her beauty was staggering
even in my diminished state
I blinked to reset my eyes
and she remained
'Breathe deep and look upon me
for I have found you
and you do not belong here'
Gloria leaned over the bar and whispered
'You okay, you look like you've seen a ghost!'
all was quiet as I left
arm in arm with a vision
I heard the meeting of glasses
as they toasted one they knew would not return
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 11:49 AM UTC
We're the ones who walk these lands in darkness.
We don't want the sun to rise.
The shadows shield us from your madness
and hide the sorrow in our eyes.
-
As your fires burn around us
and you reduce the world to ash,
your mistruths and lies surround us,
and questions we don't dare to ask.
- -
So we dance in the lasers
hand in hand. We're the ravers.
Hoping love's gonna save us.
So we dance in the lasers.
We're the lost generation
with no borders or nations.
In synthetic elation,
we're the monster's creation.
- -
You know our world lay in ruins
yet still you choose to carry on
with disregard for what you're doing.
You won't stop 'til it's all gone.
-
Why should we clear up your disasters
when you can't even tell us how.
The time will come when we're the masters
so don't you dare to judge us now
- -
as we dance in the lasers
hand in hand. We're the ravers.
We will not be your saviours.
So we dance in the lasers.
We're the lost generation
with no borders or nations.
In synthetic elation,
we're the monster's creation.
- -
So we dance
and we dance
and we dance
hand in hand
and we dance
and we dance
and we dance
hand in hand.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 4:34 PM UTC
Deep bass pounding in ears
Red and blue lights dancing around heads
Shadows and silhouettes
Whispers and kisses
Don't think
Alcohol pulsing through veins
Mindless souls moving to the same beat
Hitting notes, scratching marks
Trying to leave a trace on this vast universe
Missing
Anthems blaring through hidden speakers
Heartbeats in sync with the drums
Melding in the throng of grinding bodies
Heels and boots marching to the rhythm
Drifting
Maps and compasses thrown into the ocean
Steering wheel left unguarded
Wave after wave of heavy thoughts
Pushed to the boundary of the horizon
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 11:53 PM UTC
* *Yeah, yeah...
I'm O-k a' a' a' y,
I'm just sittin' round,
It's a 'Sat-tur-day,'
this place still a palace,
little small they say...
...just sittin' round,
And that's O-k a' a' a' y.*
*Hmmm...
yeah, yeah,
O-k a' a' a' y,
WHO-CHACA' -liquor strong,
got my liquor on,
Oh ** sip-sip,
Wearing wing-tips...
...and THEY GOT SPARKLY-SHIT!*
*Got my liquor on,
it's a 'Sat-tur-day,'
going out to party,
going out to play...
and I'm...I'm O-k a' a' a' y.*
*Come on mirror-mirror,
Oh ** sip-sip,
lean in a mirror-nearer,
My legacy a ship.
I couldn't make it clearer,
Oh ** sip-sip,
I'm gettin' fu cked-up
And I'm O-k a' a' a' y!*
The doors they open up, 'auto-matic-cally'
Now I 'out-about' and they all seeing me,
Raise the liquor glass, uh-huh sip-sippy,
They try-ing to mimic, they all want-to-be-me.
Give me a fuckin' break, I breakin' off a buzz...
You standin' lil too close, back it off now couz'
*Got my liquor on,
Diamonds, sparkly-shit,
Suit smooth, mirror,
they can't see my clip,
got my liquor on,
Uh huh sip, sip.
Now break out a mirror,
chopping up some ****
Got my liquor on...
And I'm O-k a' a' a' y!*
*Got my liquor on,
it's a 'Sat-tur-day,'
going out to party,
going out to play...
and I'm...I'm O-k a' a' a' y.*
*Come on mirror-mirror,
Oh ** sip-sip,
lean in a mirror-nearer,
My legacy a ship.
I couldn't make it clearer,
Oh ** sip-sip,
I'm gettin' fu cked-up
And I'm O-k a' a' a' y!*
Music Going Crazy!
Music Going Crazy!
Music Going Crazy!
And I'm O-k a' a' a' y!
<musical break>
<nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin>
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And I'm O-k a' a' a' y!
<nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin>
<nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin>
<nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin>
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC