"costar" poems
Barbie's undercover of the book that never quits
Manipulative and menacing but, she never spits
An evil being, a beauty queen, more than some t.v. b*tch
I wish I had a rheostat, I'd lower/light her switch
Barbie's chasing boys again, her husband doesn't care
She's riding barefoot on the back of a costar or a queer
She tilts her head/hair back and forth, pretends she doesn't care
It's that silly kind of carefree movement; majic's in the air
And I'm
Watching Barbie in the afternoon
I've not much more to do
She's so much more than a piece of meat
Barbie, so petite
Well wouldn't it be great to meet,
to see her face to face
Forty years fly bye too fast but,
That's the Barbie pace
She knows her children have a mind thew grew all by their own
They have to learn from their mistakes even when they've grown
She wants to help her daughter out by jumping in a lake
But this ain't mike, tom, chris, or jake; this could be a mistake
Barbie's in a bubble bath, she's naked as a jaybird
With happy smile, ear to ear, she relaxes and spreads cheer
More bubbles flow from a bottle emptied quickly
I only can imagine underneath her skin now prickly
Watching Barbie in the afternoon
Barbie, she's so sweet
So much more than just a piece of meat
Barbie, so petite
Well, wouldn't it be great to meet
to see her face to face, Barbie
Share!
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
"You are not drowning"
Yet, CoStar.
I'm not sure if its amnesia im afraid of, or the mere thought that memories are no solid proof of living.
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 1:01 PM UTC
Eli was tapped for a Motherwell
bio-pic despite having no acting
experience beyond bullshitting
drunk girls at the bar; but his co
star who would play Helen was
a seasoned pro; the script had
Oscar written on the bottom of
a check to give the ill-fated mess
the green light to go into pre-
production; Milky Toes wanted
to see his farm; Eli didn't care
but the actress' mother pulled the
artist aside to explain that her
daughter was fragile, meaning
not a ****** fragile also didn't
mean frail - so Eli drove Mimi
as was sometimes called to his
spread in rural Pennsylvania; O
Eli! it's beautiful said the Coke
bottle-shaped platinum blonde w/
two black eyes & arm in a cast;
ur mother said u're the fragile type,
he broached directly; 'my doctor
says I can break every bone in my
body & heal right up', she said
proudly as he led her up the hill's
trail to the spot where he turned
paint into money; the dark ground
flecked w/ every imaginable color;
Milky Toes wanted to make Eli a
star but Eli was already a star; his
last show making the cover of the
latest ARTFORUM; Milky never
read ARTFORUM, her technique
being to directly address her costar's
***** he stepped over to where she
folded her legs beneath her & sat;
staring him directly in the ***** Eli
understood method acting; he'd
studied it himself but never once
thought himself an actor; Eli was
real & raw; traumatic even, paranoid;
strangely drawn to the earth w/ a yen
to rejoin it & become one w/ the
***** worms & succulent roots of every
plant that grows & every animal that
***** w/ no warning, turning &
dropping his trousers, Eli bent over
& flipped a flat **** onto the bridge
of her nose: when he turned to face her
she was smiling: 'is that all u've got?'
he smiled back at her & dropping to
the paint-devastated grassy hillside,
Eli kissed the **** off her face; Milky
Toes closed her eyes & lay back; the
air all around them filled w/ the strong
odor of every different kind of ****
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
An old man once said, "Being in love is like the color TV, once you have it you never want to go back to Black and White"
This sounds too beautiful to be wrong
But too foreign to me to be right
So here I sit,
Remote in hand
Studying each channel I see
Looking for a hint of color
Does it happen all at once?
Or seep in through the corners?
Or a scene at a time?
Sometimes I think I see some color
Coming into the frame
But as soon as I think it
It’s gone before my eyes
Just a trick of the light
Back to that old black and white
Is that a new costar?
To colorize my life?
As soon as I see him
He’s gone
And I’m back to black and white
It’s too beautiful to be wrong
To unknown to be right
But when
Oh when
Will I have color in my life?
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 1:38 AM UTC
God is a director
And your life is his film.
(He wrote the script a long time ago)
It is not your story,
It is His story
Starring you.
In a perfect movie,
Everything you see on screen is carefully
And purposefully
Organized.
Nothing is arbitrary;
Every detail
Every character
And every event is significant.
As is His movie, in which He is overseeing every aspect.
There is equal thought and determination behind all pieces-
The enormous,
And the intricate.
It would seem that you are a powerless pawn in the movie of
your life,
But this is not the case.
You cannot control who
Or what
You are exposed to in this movie.
But of all the characters he places in your path,
You choose your costar.
And of all the scenes and situations he casts you in,
You choose the way they define you.
But do not be afraid,
For in all moments He will strengthen you
And carefully watch over you,
Never letting His eye leave the lens.
Trust in Him and all that he shows you;
Each scene is masterfully,
And meticulously
Composed.
If you should ever find yourself confused
Or frustrated
at its meaning
Remember,
That you simply haven’t seen the whole movie yet.
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 2:01 PM UTC
Life is full of adventurer,
you just don't know what is going to pop up,
or sneak up on you,
you just need to ride the roller costar,
life is full of great opportunities
that are waiting for you or seeking you,
Life can be full of wonders,
that you just don't know what is going to happen next,
Never worry what life will bring,
It just make it more exciting,
Life is a faith tester,
will you take the leap of faith in life,
Or let the worry of life eat you alive,
The choice is yours, Live today,
worry no more, Life is a long destiny,
so be ready get set.....LIVE LIFE!
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
estos poemas esta colección de papeles esta
manada de pedazos que pretenden respirar todavía
estas palabras suaves ásperas ayuntadas por mí
me van a costar la salvación
a veces son peores que actos mejor dicho más ciertas
el tiempo que pasa no las afina no las embellece
descubre sus rajaduras sus paredes raídas
el techo se les hunde y llueve
es así que en ellas no puedo tener abrigo ni reparo
en realidad huyo de ellas como de las ciudades antiguamente malditas
asoladas por las enfermedades las catástrofes
los reyes extranjeros y magníficos
más malas que el dolor son estas
ruinas que levanté viviendo dejando de vivir
andando entre dos aguas
entre este mundo y su belleza
y no me quejo ya que
ni oro ni gloria pretendí yo escribiéndolas
ni dicha ni desdicha
ni casa ni perdón
475
When I find a word I do not know the
Meaning of
I run it over the ever-changing terrain of
my mouth
repeat it with its jagged motions and soft
slopes until it becomes meaningless and
familiar on its roller costar ride of my
tongue
The supervisor releases its safety bar at
my teeth and the word slowly makes his
way out of the vehicle with wobbling legs
over my lips
I hum in pleasure
A new word is a new mystery
A dessert waiting for its purpose of sweet
indulgence to be discovered beneath that
picture perfect guise
My mouth is a fork scooping it up into my
vocal chords making itself known to my
body in a burst of flavor I have never
known before.
And I am in awe of how the linguist like
chefs craft such masterpieces.
When I find a new word I grab a can of
spray paint and graffiti the closest brick
wall in my mind with its shape.
How incredible it is to bring such beauty
to a blank canvas
I learned cursive in the third grade
And I am thankful that these human
hands have the ability to scribe new
vocabulary in more form than one.
To see its beauty in a different font.
--I failed out of college as an English Major
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
Are you my kiss behind a studio door?
My costar in our own little story,
Whispered between the rest of them
As we sneak away into the bright city chill
Just after mid-morning,
The very highest of the Sun
Are you the radio tuned to the perfect distraction?
I know music rushes in rivers beneath you
Swelling,
It collects in the windows of your vision
Aquamarine, polished,
Are they hard enough to deliciously shatter my heart?
Is it me with whom your growing vines bloom into,
As we play different parts?
I’d leave it where it all began,
Once the end has come
Alone, on a glossy wooden floor
I’d trust you with my secret
If it was also yours
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
scenes replay in my mind and it feels like our feature film is a remake of the broken romance i starred in last
i told the writers to change the plot
make the lover the protagonist and not the devil throwing jabs at my heart
i told the director to change the shot
make each seen la vie en rose instead of a black and white silent film
i told the costar make the camera believe that you love me instead of deceiving it and making the audience see how much you strive to hurt me
i told the lover please, make me feel the love you were casted to display
make me beg for your touch, crave your kiss and make your lips taste like honey
make your embrace feel safe and not like a war zone
make me believe that you love me but this time mean it.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 11:55 PM UTC