"performer" poems
To realize, your malice intent,
and power hungry destruction of my
most hidden and vulnerable *****
I am relieved to be free of your
vindictive and spiteful soul;
everything about you is abrasive,
brooding and angry, vicious and ugly
That person, so gentle and endearing
is lost, I am not so sure he even exists,
just one of your many disorderly personas
And to think of my pain,
self-mutilating thoughts and attempts
to make sense of the shock
trying to free myself from your lock of
enamoring lies. I could feel the
end when we had just sprouted,
battling my intuition with a fawn dawn heart-
with you, I finally felt full after some empty time.
But upon reflection of your undeniable misogyny,
I thank you! I could not be more thankful for you exiting my life,
the confirmation of this delusion we called love,
I am so thankful I was tricked, you see,
without honesty, I could only give you so much, and
only that much, is what you could take away from me-
Leaving behind such vitality and adventurous expression,
Charm, wits and sentiment for living
the performer in me you never could accept,
Merely shaking the strength only a woman could have.
You could never break me, although you tried-
and in that I find pity, that you feel so small
You seek power in destroying a lover
like breaking a heart is a triumph,
You are no huntsman and I am not your doe
I refuse to be your object for show
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 12:55 AM UTC
Infinity - The name of the planet where the story takes place.
Eternity - The name of the main Continent where the story takes place.
Darkness - The name of the country where the sins live.
Chaos - The capital city in the country Darkness.
Tranquility - The name of the country where the virtues live.
Glory - The capital city in the country Tranquility.
Lust - The wife of Greed and the mother of Anger. Lust is a ********** and a **** Her husband Greed is her **** Lust has an affair with Hatred and becomes pregnant. She gives birth to Anger. Lust and Envy are best friends.
Greed - The husband of Lust, the older brother of Envy, and the step father of Anger. Greed is Lust's **** Greed is a **** corrupt politician, gangster, and a ***** businessman. Greed is Pride's right hand man.
Hatred - The father of Anger and Cruelty. Hatred has an affair with Lust. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to Anger. He also has a fling with Envy. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to Cruelty. Hatred rapes Love. Hatred is a terrorist, an assassin, and a cold calculated killer.
Love - The wife of Loyalty, the mother of Kindness, and the older sister of Truth. Love is a humanitarian and a healer. Love is ***** by Hatred.
Loyalty - The husband of Love and the father of Kindness. Loyalty is a soldier and a warrior. He gets revenge on Hatred for ****** Love.
Kindness - The daughter of Love and Loyalty. She is the niece of Truth.
Anger - The son of Lust and Hatred, the stepson of Greed, and the half brother of Cruelty. Anger is best friends with Ignorance.
Faith - The wife of Truth and the mother of Hope.
Hope - The daughter of Faith and Truth.
Pride - The elected commander who rules over all the sins.
Cruelty - The daughter of Envy and Hatred. She is the half sister of Anger.
Envy - The younger sister of Greed and the mother of Cruelty. Envy has a fling with Hatred and becomes pregnant. She gives birth to Cruelty. Envy is best friends with Lust.
Truth - The husband of Faith, the father of Hope, and the younger brother of Love. Truth is the uncle of Kindness. Truth is a soldier and a warrior. He gets revenge on Hatred for ****** Love.
D.E.A.T.H. - A terrorist organization created and operated by Hatred. D.E.A.T.H. stands for Darkness Engulfing All Things Holy.
Knowledge - The younger brother of Understanding and Wisdom.
Understanding - The brother of Wisdom and Knowledge. Understanding is a teacher. He and Mercy have a romantic interest in each other.
Wisdom - The oldest brother of Knowledge and Understanding. Wisdom is the elected commander who rules over all the virtues.
Sloth - The wife of Gluttony and the mother of Ignorance.
Gluttony - The husband of Sloth and the father of Ignorance.
Ignorance - The son of Sloth and Gluttony. Ignorance is best friends with Anger.
S.O.U.L. - A humanitarian organization created and operated by Love. S.O.U.L. stands for sharing our undying love.
Grace - She's a singer, entertainer, and a a performer.
Mercy - She is a member of S.O.U.L. Mercy is best friends with Love. She has a romantic interest in Understanding.
Limbo - A country that's in the middle of the two countries Darkness and Tranquility. Darkness is to the west of Limbo and Tranquility is to the east of Limbo. The country Limbo has a river of blood running down the middle. There is a civil war taking place in the country Limbo.
Deceit - Deceit is a master of disguise. It is a male and and a female. Deceit is a member of D.E.A.T.H.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
A Close friend said "The Perfect Woman"
is much like a shark.
if I am greeted in this ocean,
by a woman
I will allow her to look at me with all primal intent.
splay my wrist open and watch her
as she smells the little turn of blood
floating now in spirals between us
I'll have done it not for the pain, or shock
but for the honesty.
to watch a creature struggling to hold onto their facade
and the tears that start to bloom in the pink
above their sharp teeth.
Look, I know sharks don't cry.
it's not about the crying,
I crave the visceral emotion.
want to give my body to the indulgence
the electric moment where
I feel them feel conflicted
with my whole body
feel their suffering and internal struggle
in my entire manic smile
tight cheeked
all eyes on them like a paid performer
or Alternatively,
I would give them all this passion,
my body in anticipation of their opening
clenching to their masks,
They Devour me.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
Infinity - The name of the planet where the story takes place.
Darkness - The name of the country where the sins live.
Eternity - The name of the main continent where the story takes place.
Chaos - The capital city in the country Darkness.
Tranquility - The name of the country where the virtues live.
Glory - The capital city in the country Tranquility.
Lust - The wife of Greed and the mother of Anger. Lust is a ********** and **** Her husband Greed is her **** Lust has an affair with Hatred and becomes pregnant. She gives birth to Anger. Lust and Envy are best friends.
Greed - The husband of Lust, the older brother of Envy, and the stepfather of Anger. Greed is Lust's **** Greed is a **** corrupt politician, gangster, and a ***** businessman. Greed is Pride's right hand man.
Hatred - The father of Anger and Cruelty. Hatred has an affair with Lust. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to Anger. He also has a fling with Envy. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to Cruelty. Hatred rapes Love. Hatred is a terrorist, an assassin, and a cold calculated killer.
Love - The wife of Loyalty, the mother of Kindness, and the older sister of Truth. Love is a humanitarian and a healer. Love is ***** by Hatred.
Loyalty - The husband of Love and the father of Kindness. Loyalty is a solider and a warrior. He gets revenge on Hatred for ****** Love.
Kindness - The daughter of Love and Loyalty. She is the niece of Truth.
Anger - The son of Lust and Hatred, the stepson of Greed, and the half brother of Cruelty. Anger is best friends with Ignorance.
Faith - The wife of Truth and the mother of Hope.
Hope - The daughter of Faith and Truth.
Pride - The elected commander of all the sins. Pride is a priest.
Cruelty - The daughter of Envy and Hatred. She is the half sister of Anger.
Envy - The younger sister of Greed and the mother of Cruelty. Envy has a fling with Hatred and becomes pregnant. She gives birth to Cruelty. Envy is best friends with Lust.
Truth - The husband of Faith, the father of Hope, and the younger brother of Love. Truth is the uncle of Kindness. Truth is a soldier and a warrior. He gets revenge on Hatred for ****** Love.
D.E.A.T.H. - A terrorist organization created and operated by Hatred. D.E.A.T.H. stands for Darkness Engulfing All Things Holy.
Knowledge - The younger brother of Understanding and Wisdom.
Understanding - The brother of Wisdom and Knowledge. Understanding is a teacher. Understanding has a romantic interest in Mercy.
Wisdom - The oldest brother of Knowledge and Understanding. Wisdom is the elected commander of all the virtues.
Sloth - The wife of Gluttony and the mother of Ignorance.
Gluttony - The husband of Sloth and the father of Ignorance.
Ignorance - The son of Sloth and Gluttony.
S.O.U.L. - A humanitarian organization created and operated by Love. S.O.U.L. stands for Sharing Our Undying Love.
Grace - She's a singer, entertainer, and performer.
Deceit - Deceit is a master of disguise. It is a male and a female. Deceit is a member of D.E.A.T.H.
Misery - An island off the coast of Darkness.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
I lap up your wetness
like a kitten its milk.
I wash my face with your moisture,
you wiggle and moan.
You swallow me whole,
like some carny performer.
Emptied, I sigh,
You lick your lips and grin.
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 12:56 PM UTC
While having a heart to heart one night,
My friend informs me that as a straight person, I will never understand what it's like to be closeted.
That there is a reason people understand the term "gay suicide" without context,
That love looked like moth wings that would flutter away or wither at touch,
That the secrets and shame are like locks on the door from the outside and you realize that there is no one out there with a key.
That same friend once asked me if I've ever thought about joining a nudist colony.
She said that the comfort I find in my own skin and my ability to separate naked bodies from beds was admirable.
I told her, there was a reason I never read her my poetry.
I told her, I don't wear make up at Wal-Mart.
That I turn off the lights but still let him love me.
I read to estranged ears.
That bareness was something I would never grow into.
"Darling!" I told her, "there are some things you just aren't meant to see."
I have been truth-or-dared to strip naked, and its not as easy as you might believe.
There is a little something that sits at the back of my mind I like to call "modesty."
Modesty can be defined as the quality or state of being unassuming or limited in the estimation of one's abilities.
"Darling," I wanted to tell her, "You have no idea what these hands are capable of."
There was a time I was proud of that.
They were small and feeble, but holding a blade firm they became strong.
They became what I needed.
My skin became less of a barrier and more of a costume. When I slipped it on, I became original.
I became identified, if only to myself.
The scabs were a serial number the First World girl who was a little too white,
a little too straight,
and a little too doubtful could call her own.
But I was a little too weak,
and a little too lonely
and had a little too much time on my hands to wrap around the knife.
They became my drug. I became a liar.
My skin became an apology for everything I thought you should blame me for.
There was a time I would have done anything to show you, but I have always been a performer.
No one ever asked to see the curtains close.
My friend told me that I would never understand what it's like to be closeted.
That secrets and shame are like locks on the door from the outside and you realize that there is no one out there with a key.
The tally of every moment I'm locked in is a timeline of my mistakes, visible on my own skin.
There are some things you just aren't meant to see.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
The man in galoshes with the world on his back,
strolls along the broken track.
Weather beaten,
Fighting the rain.
It's lashing him.
He's tied to the kerb.
Anchored only by the weighty boots on his feet.
He's out there fair weather or foul.
Desperate to keep his public happy,
With a timely siren,
the arrival of an infants birth.
He is the performer up the garden path.
At least the rain's outside again.
So is he poor sod.
The postman, nearly demi-god,
or nearly dead.
He's tramping through the rain and the snow.
He had to let you know,
you know.
The latest news and hot reviews,
a little bit of useless information.
There's nothing better than a letter,
unless it's from the revenue.
Our fair weather friend he has so many uses.
A warrior, he fights wild dogs.
He's churning up the grass,
his only means of escape.
He's wearing an orange hat,
it's curled up at the edges.
He uses it to fight the rain.
The orange hat so luminous,
he's looking rather fruity.
He's forlorn and in pieces,
because he's getting washed away,
He has one every morning in his place,
each and every day.
Stacks and stacks of bits of paper,
Life and death wrapped up in his sack.
(C) Livvi
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:43 AM UTC
I want to be your guitar
Run your fingers over my fret board
Pluck my strings and give me my melodious avatar
Sing to me and play that major chord
I’m feeling your song through and through
You don’t need a plectrum, you’re a born original
Work your rhythm baby, let’s get on the groove
Your fingers are enough to create our music wholly attritional
I will reward you myself for how you release my tension
I will resonate our love song through longevity
You’re a prodigal performer, I can feel you in tune with locomotion
We will move from verse to chorus under no shadow of ambiguity
I want to be your guitar
Let my moans reverberate off your walls
A finer touch for our creativity – a sitar
Let’s Indioul our way through these musical waterfalls
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
I realized I was definitely
Capable of loving more than one person
As I stood ****** in a bar
Positioned at a table between
My partner and my ex-fiance
My ex and I had gotten food beforehand
My first time seeing them in a year and a half
And I swore to everyone that it wasn't gay
I believed it too for awhile
Up until they said they didn't want kids
Which was part of my own logic used
To explain our incompatibility
Hearing their stories made my heart ache
All of the things I'd missed in their life
All the things they missed in mine
Then that night at the bar
When a performer was called on stage
My ex mentioned that she was my favorite
A small fact I didn't think they'd remember
Yet it carried such a significant feeling
That left my heart heavy and fractured
And when my partner looked at me I felt guilty
They must be able to see it
To sense it
These residual feelings
That I swore were not there and were
Definitely not gay
And while lost in my mind
My ex looked at me and asked if I was ok
They could still see me
I wanted to run away
My mind kept screaming for an escape
And yet I also heard a whispered voice
Reminding me that this time with them
Would be the last quality time I'd have
Before we returned to being strangers
So I shouldn't waste it
Because as much as I crave their friendship
I know in my heart it'd never work
Friends would never be the word
It's always been and
Probably always would be
Something much more than that
So I'll let it go
I'll let myself mourn these feelings
Despite the dreadful pain of it all
Because we all deserve to be happy
And by giving up this ill-fated dream
I know one day I can be
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
Memorized by a vacant lot. At the edge of an abyss. Darkness is solitude. Solitude for a crowded my mind. There is no break for a mind. Constantly crunching away at what is reality. The concept of nothingness makes the mind clock overtime. Are we creatures of logical limitless. Or finite beings who cant grasp that nothing is infinite. We are here to observe. To learn. To yearn. In search of a purpose. In search of anything that keeps us from thinking we are worthless. We are creators. We are makers. We are breakers. We are fakers. We are individuals. We are imitators. I am you and you are me. One in the same. On an even plane.. on a round earth. We are haters. We are lovers. We are creatures of similarity. We are creatures of contrast. Idiosyncratic nuances that make us a so far apart but so alike. The performer with a mic. The crazy man on a soap box. The angry in jail. The stoners in a hotbox. The gated community members. And the thieves breaking pad locks. The rich and the poor. The nun and the ***** The killer and the doctor. The lover and the boxer. All so far apart yet always united with a common theme. One in the same. He is her and she is him. Cell by cell. Limb by limb. United until every atom that we were connected through is torn away into nothingness. Vacant lots at the edge of an abyss.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 3:16 AM UTC
Awkwardly, I made my way to the back
To listen to the lonely performer
Pour his heart out over his guitar
And over the sounds of the crowd,
Too engrossed in their conversations
To enjoy the melodies unfolding.
With every transition they applauded
Politely showing their affection
And as the performer resumed strumming,
So did the chatter of the disinterested.
The lyrics were muttled, drowned out
By the inane banter surrounding the stage
But his fingers continued to dance nimbly
From one string to the next.
And for once I was happy
To not be the center of attention.
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
There is a stage that no one sees,
built from open arms and steady smiles
The audience, the world, they notice not
The Great Performer amongst them.
He hides his puppet behind curtains,
the curtains made of little things
like silence, shame, a flinch, a tug of sleeve
its screams drowned out by applause
When the mask slips and someone looks,
when light finds what the fabric hides,
the performer straightens, bows, and keeps the act;
a gentle smile—an apology
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 10:00 PM UTC
It is so measured that rising arpeggio, only to fall and rise again in quicker values, through the dominant seventh to the heartache moment of that minor ninth, a very apogee of dissonance. Then it goes higher still to the fifth, holding to that Phrygian harmony before returning to the tonic minor and a measured fall in the bass. This is a deliberate descent to the sub-mediant, and Bach’s touch of magic, the equivalence with the dominant minor ninth. But then he gives us hope: an extended and joyful play through sequences that rise and fall within each bar, to rest finally on the mediant’s echo of that opening, that measured rise and the quickening fall. We have hardly smiled with relief when Bach pulls us back into the insecurity of the dominant of the subdominant, that V of IV acting like a bridge to a long, long discourse in the dominant, a pedal E holding firmly to itself whilst rising arpeggios and falling decorations and sequences pull and pull through innocently related keys. Longer and longer play the rising passages until short motives of imitation interrupt, treble to bass, tenor to alto, until: a first inversion arpeggio of the dominant seventh measures out the opening rhythm. This happens twice in short succession, as though holding the progress of the music to account. A questioning perhaps before a four-fold sequence asserts the dominant and a chorded caesura. There is a pregnant, though faintly resonant silence as Bach spins the dice of tonality and chooses the subdominant to bring the music towards a waiting Allemande. The music moves through a play of subdominant to dominant, minor to major, the mix of flattened fifth and flattened ninth. It is those intervals that determine Bach as the father of ambiguity in the 20C school of jazz harmony, Arpeggio then a falling scale, and repeat and repeat again, but moving ever higher by sequence. At last five chords – merely a shorthand for closure via the expectation of a right display of the performer’s improvisatory prowess. They prepare us reverently for the tonic minor before the stately Allemande leads the music into the elegant steps of its walking dance.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 3:13 AM UTC
The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground
I look at the hieroglyphics on the wall
It’s an epic story oh I’ve seen it all
This place was taken by industry
Powered by fame and the illusion of money
They perverted the artist’s proud, heartfelt ways
Forced the true artists out for the ones who stayed
They create things that sound the same to us
Dropped their talent sold their souls to business
Lost their land to a cult of executives
So now they put out songs without messages
There puppets without any ideals
But it’s amazing for album sales
They were tempted by the glorious pop charts
Every follower goes by the formula
Produce garbage without connection
With no real emotion or expression
Their distorted auto tuned emptiness
All to be on TV and in magazines
Want exposure to be recognized
Their careers won’t fade they were never alive
This place ***** robbed lied to n even forgotten
The ones who stayed chained to the corporation
Not for the sake of art but for the money
Lack of feeling and effort plain to see
The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground
Can’t understand what their saying
Fan base is alienated
Rather be an icon than a star
The space between performer and audience grows more and more
So the true artists have left n disappeared
They’ve been out of sight for many many years
There somewhere where you don’t need to be in style
Might not find them at the left of the dial
No they don’t care about TV or radio
They just want to make something with all their soul
They are all now opposed to the fame
Crossing their fingers it won’t be the next craze
But today we still have the artifacts
Amazing and impressive sounds of the past
Better than the sell outs we all know
Talent, determination, originality flow
The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground
Someone poisoned the main stream
So now it’s the same to me
Did I read the hieroglyphics wrong I don’t know?
But it was the rise, fall and return of rock n roll
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
When I lived in the city, night, true night, never came.
The natural day gave way to the artificial day,
a day made possible by streetlight, by humming billboard.
With sick pinks and near-white greys, the early hours
hiccuped away. I slept or didn't. And this time in my life,
as any time in my life, is marked by a woman.
I won't say much about her. She was a performer,
and I've never been a steady fan of much of anything.
So when I kissed her the last time, I kissed her like it
was the last time, a kiss calibrated to say, "It's been."
When she kissed me the last time, she kissed me
like she didn't know it was the last time,
a kiss not so much a kiss as a mouth half-opened eternity,
where the sun didn't shine, nor was there night.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
I am not a poet,
Never intended to be one.
I am not a singer,
Nor can I sing swell.
I am not an actor,
As I cannot fake about anything.
I am not a painter,
As colors are all same precious to me.
I am not a dancer,
As I understand no rhythm.
I am not a performer,
As stage is not my world.
I do not really know what I am,
But I am definitely not something I don’t intend to be.
I am rather a person who fail at everything,
Yet passionately stand at feet,
Yearn to learn.
I am an ARTESS…
I rather master the art or die trying..
I am an ARTESS…
And all art is my Imagination within the living dream, I dream.
I am an ARTESS..
And I never intend to stop creating a masterpiece for the peace of my world.
I am nothing at all,
But I am everything.
I am a Dreamer,
My dreams that I imagine are my art.
I thrive to make them true..
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 4:29 AM UTC
I walked through life with a rude and fresh arrogance:
I was taught it when I was still a big fish in a small pond,
When I still had a can-do-it-all attitude, when the dance
Was life, and the tune was want, and the performer, fond,
Moved like anything. Anyone. Save Lethe, who dulled me,
Who pulled me under waves when I cursed the sea,
When I thought, to time immemorial, I had the energy
To do anything, go anywhere, be anything I wanted to be -
I lived off borrowed time, and borrowed fire,
And borrowed, all of my once blazing desire
Fed no one, but lost dreams - I reap the harvest now:
I should have been a doctor, and I plough
My lack of care and decision, my blind turning, and the resulting salt,
I trudge through the compost of other unfinished deeds, never to halt -
I never knew the meaning of a battery, even when it ran down;
My phone recharges at night, and I simply squint and frown,
Trying to make sense of a world sensible to girl who used to dream;
Sleeping through waking, as though nothing would be as it would seem.
Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 6:31 PM UTC
my cat bit my earphones
i am a person who commutes everyday with my earphones on. i listen to music and i dance to it. doing what seem to be small jerks to the public but a series of big and grand moves in my head. i was a dancer.
but my cat bit my earphones.
i hum the tunes ever so softly only to find out the stares from the people i ignored the whole ride, could hear me. i was a singer.
a silent performer.
for the audience of none.
and yes, my cat bit my earphones.
i am a person who can’t live without it. i listen to music and i zone in. i cancel all the thoughts in my head and just be. in the midst of beats, melodies, harmonies, and lyrics i was at peace. the maximum volume became my version of quiet.
and yet my cat bit my earphones.
the cheapskate in me stops me everyday from buying a new pair even if in exchange i’d have to embrace a new kind of quiet.
the quiet shared by the people i commute with:
the roaring engines, the horns of cars following no beat at all, the shouting of the barkers and conductors rapping with no flow. i hear everything. i was a listener.
a loud performance
for the audience of one.
all because my cat bit my earphones.
i blame my cat everyday for this punishment. i love my cat but sometimes i wish she could pay for it or even apologize for that matter. but i have no choice but to continue my everyday commute without my earphones.
**** my cat bit my earphones.
the thoughts i can’t mute when i commute now screams loudly begging me to listen. begging me to write them down. begging me to finally piece together all the words i know will make sense when given time. i am a writer.
i just can’t help myself but think that my cat bit my earphones.
now i am a person who commutes everyday without my earphones on. i listen to my head and i feel it. putting together ideas and emotions that may seem unpolished to me but could be something great to the public once heard. i am an artist.
a performer.
for the audience, i’m the one.
all because my cat bit my earphones.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 5:02 AM UTC
I don’t want to cut myself open on a stage,
Make my blood curdle on command.
Applaud me, will you?
This idea of sisterhood, this union
At the end of the play
One lives, one dies, and one has the glory
of letting the curtain fall down
Down on the story
Performed to move people.
I’m not a performer,
Not a thespian, actress or Janus,
I have the one face and that’s all I’ve got,
Like it or not.
My clothes are not a costume,
There’s no cue for me
That tells when to go on.
I speak now, with lines rehearsed
To keep playing the fool
The one no-one listens to.
Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Please applaud.
I am not an act, waiting for an audience.
I do not respond to applause,
There’s no curtain call,
No stage light in my place
That tells me where to fall.
I can’t keep playing
Can’t keep pretending
I’m the one who decides to walk out
On all of this, now.
It’s the final call, that one last bow
And thus ends the show,
See you next week, with all your friends in tow.
A standing ovation,
A brief revelation
I don’t want this, quick,
Act like it’s all part of it,
Stumbling’s funny, err on the side of performance,
Don’t reveal the truth, don’t bleed on the stage floor,
It’s all fake. All pretend, I’m no actor,
but I perform every minute of the day.
I’m not sure my heart’s real.
Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 4:50 AM UTC
*Reflections of Paris this morning , for all the inhabitants of the world , especially those inspired by beautiful works of art and architecture ! Those fortunate enough to have dined in world class eateries on cuisine prepared by Master Chefs , marveled over the downtown skyline high atop prominent monuments ! Impassioned lovers perusing her avenues , window shopping store fronts , boutiques along famous boulevards ! Senior couples recalling their yesteryears with great joy , frolicking , happy children playing in parklands , feeding songbirds with euphoria and curiosity , strolling walkways along the riverbank at Dusk with great wonderment and personal reflection
The poet and poetess , musician and thespian , ballet dancer and street performer .. To lovers young and old , the continued hope of gaiety and splendor at every turn !
She is lovely indeed , the Queen of all that is beautiful on this Earth* ..
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
Something so serene about standing on the pier
While a beggin' street performer sang stairway to heaven.
Although not my favorite Zeppelin.
It was magic.
The wind carried the melodic tune.
That was it.
Everything and nothing.
One moment out of a million.
I hated the wind,
And the cold but,
In that moment I could see us there,
Growing old.
Your smile gave me warmth.
The closeness set me on fire.
In that instant,
I've never been higher.
No pipe, pill, or drink
Could make me feel,
Or make me think.
And I have to say.
It was one of my best days.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
She rolls along the high wires
Tightrope walkin' moon
She graces life's big circus
She is gone too soon
Huge! A glowing fairie
So luminous! So bright!
She's suspended on the ropes
The performer of the night!
I watch her intently
As she's held aloft
Then she slips toward the hills...
... she is fallin' off!
But she bows down and curtseys!
A smile on her face
She's lost not her dancer's poise,
She maintains her grace.
Finally she exits
The horizon sets the stage
She is only a faint glow
The night has turned the page.
I'll remember her with fondness
As she danced to Claire de Lune...
In her sequined tutu
Tightrope walkin' moon.
SøułSurvivør
8/26/2018
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:37 AM UTC
Are we still in the EP
Or is this the sophomore slump
I can't tell anymore
I'm just the unpaid performer
Roll up myself in Twister sheets
So you can step and rock on me
Should I be searching for number three
Or make my way back to Mercury
Rabbit, do you wanna stone me
Or do you wanna save me
Ballerina wolf
Vampire Jesus
Demon hoof
Unicorn needle
How's it feel with those ears
Atop your ice cream cone
How's it feel to be under
A global microscope
And this frequency
Is truly killing me
But who cares I'm just a
Federal noxious ****
Here, eat some brain
See the Naja kiss
Watch the princess fall
Down the rocky gorge
This is what you call bliss
Rabbit, do you wanna stone me
Or do you wanna save me
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 6:03 PM UTC