#limelight
Tin man, on the eve of tin,
your apology rings hollow.
I think that you
were only trying to
crack a window,
find a space to crawl back in,
attempt to
erase me some more.
Meanwhile, the police
are off investigating
crimes that happen in
real time. They like
to catch their perps
red-handed. Even with you
cast in the limelight,
confirming that what you did
to me was real,
it was my own nightmare.
I know, we fall into
that grey area.
In a garden of blooms
you walk freely,
inhaling and dreaming
of touching
those yet untouched
pink and yellow buds.
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 7:39 PM UTC
Why is all the world light, and I am small underneath?
Just a black bottom under this apple tree?
Why am I in the limelight, the foreground?
The light pours no citrus drink, but a cyanide fruit pit pound!
The over-saturated curtains tail my frail feet.
Much busier than a yellow-black bee, bumping till its stinger gets caught in a fabric hemming
and it dies with no one noticing.
The girl who reads, the tree that sifts its rotten leaves;
they care less, less for a discoloration that unfortunately eats at me.
Even when the elders waltz the foxtrot dance so that even my dwarf legs can follow suit,
I will never be quite slow, or fast enough? for all of you.
I disintegrate daily into almost nothing.
I stare, but no one stares at me.
Oh, haven’t I written a piece about shadows and light?
What’s with me! I use the same machine work!
Metaphors, imageries, diction, diction mutating to a deeper fiction. Unoriginal it is!
The masses cling onto clichès with their pointed teeth;
why can’t I, I lodge into that all-inclusion?
Why do I repeat my own themes? Have I never learned critical thinking?
I depend on repetition: same old, same old (did I mention the old ‘same’?)
thing to grasp any new concept!
Maladaptive daydreamer
who cannot conjure up any ink
of fresh difference! What purpose do I hold
in this awful, spineless world?
I am too awfully, awfully simple and dumb
to succeed in any other playing field!
Reality, what foreign entity is she?
Maybe a solemn quiet would do it for me.
(So maybe I’ll have an extended vacation,
and revisit my only talent some other day.)
What do the (sappy) honey-loving poets write on?
The (sawdust) stardust in eye pupils, and
igniting our hearts alight (till it guzzles that red stream and we become only such, and the carpet gets a free dye job).
Apparently, everything pure and worthy is atomized into
(carbolic soap I allow carbonation of its soda acid in my eyes) diamonds.
On the subject of atomic level substances,
let's rehearse the Compton effect:
Heat me up to a hundred keV
like cheap microwave dinner, so that I propel—
whoosh!— tink against metallic beings
till I decrease, and I am powerless.
Each new orbit of opportunity I seize,
I result with less, and the opportunity snatches from me.
Glistening shoe shiner whose price tag appeals to the average Joe,
then I swipe: scuffing up my rounded toe.
She tattooed those other girls’ arrow on herself because:
“I’m pulled back to soar farther,”
yet this stretching has lasted for… months?
Compare this not to a crossbow, but to that of a
medieval rack, that gruesome torture device!
My tissue is tearing asunder, but this is polar from breaking bread!
I ache, I ache, I ache! Isn’t yoga supposed to tranquilize you to a grounded state, not death?
Why is the world so light when I am so heavy?
Why must I “lust for a life” that lusts not for me?
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 3:51 PM UTC
Living in a world that snobs
Is as painful as scorpion's sting
As I make random motions
I see more booings
Greeted with bruises
No **** not even an harry
Sees how I weep in isolation
But all shall cling to me in limelight
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 2:19 PM UTC
Will it be shining again all blue water?
Now is up to the luck.
Far from the twilight beach the sun
jumped in the sea is out of the light out of colour.
Lest it dives out catching the moon in the dark!
Twinkly stars, the studded diamond set
up in the high sky softly whisper:
As dark descends, a new moon
can drown with blindfolded eyes
but never lose her sway!
Over the black canvas of the darkened sea
lapping up one more dwarf - a submerged sun,
the untouched moon comes out.
And by now all the half-lit light bulbs up in the sky,
the cherubic stars are mirrored upon the sea water.
Now will the moon paint its mystique blue limelight
or will toy away once again being untouched?
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
To be honest with you,
I think I'm scared of this limelight
It feels so good,
Radiating this bright light
But, I'm so worried like,
Can I keep this light bright?
I'm caught between
Creating Plan B if I can't keep up
Or burning bridges so I won't give up!
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
I'm treading in this wine
A forever never to last
Limelight wilts the roses
Thrown to stage
To stay red
Glory of the past
I am deeper in this
More than I ever
Thought I'd be
What happened to me?
What happened to
The world that once
Laid at my feet?
This is never what
I wanted, it's just
What I've come to know
To live some life
Of hollow glass
Doomed to the darkness
Never to glow
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
I keep slicing reality
With the Knife of Reason,
Yet brushing winds
Carry scents of hope.
Neuron connections of
Misconceptions -
Is that causation
Or empty words?
I keep dicing my days
Climbing the ego
Of a shoreless mind
You keep coming my way
Wearing nothing but bands
Around your thighs -
Limelight moments.
Ticking clocks.
Shivers
Down my spine.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
the light pulses
flashes
draws you in
it narrows
and widens
can’t block out that glow
it flickers
Begging for your attention
Like a helpless moth
You're flying towards it
Confused
This isn't the real light
These girls, like neons they got you
These numbers they flickering like the halogen
and they got you
They promising everlasting love like LEDs
and it got you
Got you frantic
chasing that lime light
You're in that frame
Shine bright like the sun
Staring at it too long
and you’ll go blind
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
Some days you have the ability,
others on a shopping spree.
Dressing clean, ultra supreme.
To live is just a dream that only you can see with binoculars.
I live in our own aura, the World and I. Where we can kickback, sleek the ruffles out of our curtains.
With blood sleeking down the glass window pane, the beginning of a crystal clear scheme
with crimson stains.
A passing by expert, I have yet to earn what removed hastes to which I should come to a slower pace.
Push you into my fool, a clown to a stalemate.
Copping everything on a shopping spree, my feet don’t touch the ground, they elevate.
Now I’m trying to jam using these hands, but one grips at fear.
I don’t have time for tainted misused feelings.
I have to make them squeal for me. Hide in the bushes, they want to be seen with me. Using correct of muscle, I hold me. Carrying all these packages, I’m the one you want.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
The lonesome Ness
ends best
when friends are laughing
by a tale
Told once to myself
in my head,
perfected
when renounced
and spread
Ignoring
the boring
for moments on end,
I visit as servant
instead
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC