Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Grace Frederick May 2018
She walks away from the game to go contemplate ending her life.
She curls up in a ball in between the punching bag and the chair.

She can't decide how to end her life:
Slit the wrist
Overdose
Hang herself

Everything makes her brain swell.
The depression sets in:
Causing the thoughts to get darker
The urges to get higher
The intention to get deeper.

She thinks
Cancel my showtime

So she did.

She canceled her showtime
And her last words were:

"Cancel my Showtime."
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2019
letter to elana

for the poet elana bell

~

in a different cafe,
on a Manhattan streetscape where once, years earlier,
violence was the purview of West Side Story gangs,
ruling their internecine non-intersectionality territorial blood lines supremely

nowadays, violence replaced by the frenetic
noises of Lincoln Center theater goers,
student dancers, actors, musicians and poets joining the throng
of those who sup and run,
all hearing their own frantic
curtain calling, saying, announcing,
music dance voices words require your obeisance,
needy for a mutual worshipping reassurance fiat that:

life can be made transcendent
if even for just 90 minutes or 120 pages,
or a 3 minute poem reading


this city of millions requires billions of poems that spoon stirred  
and yet, almost always fail, to squeeze, all of the human essence that is in its ultimate source, clarifying nyc tap water,
containing the storied remnants of a hackable continuous,
single human stanza cell osmosis - a blockchain like no other

two poets sit side by side each in their own lapsed dreams,
she, a published poet of prize and rank, ^
he, a rank amateur whose only prize is his unpublished anonymity,
poetry, is his just a nightly soul cleansing,
an imported remnant of his Marrano piyyutim ancestry

one turns to the other,
in the inexplicable daily crazy miracle
of city fashionistas

in a city where stealing a parking spot, or the
forced squeezing creation of a subway seat space
where physics proves none exists,
are oft the roots of slashing and stabbings faithfully reported
on the 11 o’clock news,  
and trust and/or other encouraging words
are seldom heard and even less demonstrated,
the make-no-eye-contact of Camus’s L’Etranger anomie is the
normative, paranormal, paralysis cloak of we city separatists

“Can you watch over my electronics and stuff?”

Sure says the grayed and grizzled,
an all life long veteran of nyc,
judged to be trustworthy
based on a few seconds of being upsized and downsized,
a car wash (exterior only) perusal
despite a
“no direction home, like a compete unknown, a rolling stone,”  
this signage, yellow star permanently chest-affixed,
conveniently ignored, as it seems impossible
thieves don’t look like me,
don’t likely in their possess,
a distinguished head of gray hair (yeah, sure)

a thank you reward of (or did I imagine it) a lean-in,
a momentary head on a shoulder,
the chit chat now grows earned and earnest,
she confesses her cardinal poetry profession,
eliciting an ‘Oh Boy’ utterance from the poet
of a thousand names
and a thousand textual emendations

a fastidious nyc boundary is brief crossed for one short meal,
till the end when time sensitized IMRL intrudes and
the showtime calls out,
if not now, when? if not me, then who?

I read her poetry later in the praying supine first position of
three AM, and laugh with delight, at the contrast and no compare,
the styles clash and tho the stories told
are both writ in the aleph bet script,
there ends the Ven diagram overlap and
into the night’s coming of a Elvisian blue suede coverlet,
we both disappear, and if not for this recording,
history says, you old man confused, never happened,
just an imaginary poetry ink blot dream breaching...

~

postface:
another poetry book is no longer homeless,
comes to shelter upon my shelf, close to Angelou, far from Whitman,
now all the book’s nooks eyes collectively
reassessing the new old-owner, parsing his syntax,
undecided if his readership is worthy of them,
concluding that all these books are the
man’s owned roughened stones,
to be placed by human hands on the
serpentine curvature of his literary tombstone,
and until all stones fully read,
they all agree,
will they and he
be fully freed,
smoothing his legacy’s edges
Feb. 21 -March 5, 2019
NYC
another true story

^ https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elana_Bell
The Arabian Sea
A sprightly sight to behold
The cascading Sunbeams veil the sea in a platinum shimmer
The gusty wind blows
Sparkling diamonds roll up on the ocean waves
The golden Sun unravels the beauty of the bejewelled Sea

The picturesque Mumbai Skyline  
Gloriously, rises up in the evening Sky

The mellowed Sun ,beauteous as an orange Rose
Leisurely dips down at the horizon
The Sky cools down to Prussian blue
The stars glimmer across the sky in the dim lights
It's showtime

Bedazzled
I quietly sit and watch the magical scenes unfold
Thank you all for your support here.

It's IPL (Cricket) time and my sons were extremely happy to meet a few world class cricketers from across the world and country .
Couple of teams stayed in the same hotel as ours.

Had been on a small vacation with family!!
party zone with johnny brown

pictures on brian allan's Facebook page profile tapestry

johnny’   hi dudes and welcome to party zone at the royal canberra show

and we have just been entertained by the team d max and boy were they

exciting and the two wheel wheelies were pretty cool as well

and now we have people with some jingles about the show

here is the first from young peter

peter’  i like the show ever so much from the side show to the

fun in the arena, i really like the cars, yo it’s fun and the whip cracking is the the coolest around

you see we have barbecues and chips and chips on a stick and fish and chips

and mate, there is plenty to drink and later there is more fun in the arena, yeah mate yeah let’s party

dude, yo let’s get down

johnny’  thank you peter for that great jingle and now here is harry with his jingle

harry’   party on yeah party on

the time to have fun is now

with show bags and side show alleys and stuff on the arena too

i saw the cars, ahh so rad and i saw the heritage area too

that is the most exciting thing i have ever done

canberra canberra canberra

show show show

the best show in oz

johnny’  thanks harry and here is josh morgan with his little jingle

josh’  oh come to the canberra show and enjoy the rides and ****

and enjoy the cars doing the dirt burnouts, yeah that sounds so cool

and don’t forget to watch the fashion parade

and we can really enjoy that

you see i won a teddy bear and i will give it to my missus

hoping she will really like it, i think she will

this is the best show on the east of australia

come on and party from start to finish

at the royal canberra show, yo dude

johnny’   hi dudes and now we are around the young farmers for the challenge heats

and they all sing their little jingle, here it goes

young farmers

we are the greatest my friend

we will show who will win it till the end

and we are about to play in our challenge heats

and each one will be pressing to win

and mate we are the young farmers

and we will triumph over all mankind, young farmers

johnny’  this is a great day at the canberra show and here is john with a jingle about the young farmers

john’   you see we throw a boot in the bucket and we do it well

and we plant our own seed and we must know the seed

and we unwrap the swag and then we milk the cow, yeah that is cool

as we grab the potatoes and we hammer the nail

and who does it all first wins the battle wins the battle wins the battle

yeah, now we have done all that

we should party hardy dude

johnny’  thanks john and now we see the presentation and it is a good team who won

Johnny'.     Welcome back to party zone and we just had

The ford v Holden ute challenge and here is Daniel is giving

Us a jingle about what he saw

Daniel' gentlemen start your engines

As the ford is going to splash all the stones on us

The Holden does the same thing on the other side

You see as the burn outs and then trying to get around

The witch's hats without knocking them over, they fail miserably

Then as you are in the crowd trying to enjoy your ice cream soda

Yeah mate yeah the car kicks all the stones all  over you

And now after doing so many laps to please the crowd

They go off and burnout once more past us,

And I will tell you all on party zone, yeah it is the right time for partying oh yeah

Johnny'.  Thank you Daniel and now let's find a decent party somewhere, dude

Johnny'.  Welcome back and we are currently watching the harness racing and these

Horses are fighting fit, as we are waiting for team d max and Showtime fmx and there is

No rain, which is good, and now here us young Toby Mitchell with his jingle

Toby'.  It is getting darker and we are preparing for a great night ahead

You see I am sitting here with my fave food, banana bread

It is not too hot nor is it too cold, and we are never to old to enjoy ourselves on this nice Canberra night

You see we are at the Canberra show soaking up the atmosphere

I am at the start saying Canberra show is the best fun you can have


Johnny'.  Ok and now it's time to go, from party zone

From the Royal Canberra show and the fireworks are lighting

Up the sky and weren't the Utes and motorbikes great, yeah

And here is Fred to do a poem about

Fred'.  You see the motorbikes go up and meet

Each other, and then they go down the other side

And they chuck wheelies and so did the ute

Yeah mate yeah it is so fucken rad

And I really like the ute doing a two wheel wheelie on the side

And I went away to buy fresh lemonade and fries

The side show alley was just as cool

You see I chucked up all over little ole you

You hated it and you gave me a wollop

And I gave you a lemonade with ice cream dollop

Johnny'.  Thanks Fred and now here is another act for you

From ken

Ken'. You shook Canberra all night long

And you partied all fucken day

And that's the truth

Johnny'.  Good bye from party zone catch ya later dudes
Tommy Jackson Aug 2015
Mississippi, let the good times ramble
Biloxi, and Jackson
Flag raised high
Passion,
Tupelo rocking and roar
Hattiesburg for a show tonight
With my wife
My girl
Wife's home from Jamaica business with her work good time tonight
JP Goss Oct 2014
A coffee shop afternoon can say it looms significant
In the steamer’s sweet humidity
And the idle legs pace for more
I hear the whispers of world-changers and gossip mix
Local color of a quiet little town.

Sit humble and lean, a fixture ‘till showtime
And ask lines around just we’ve they’ve been
And who they’ve seen.

There’s a poetry in the patron, come
My gaze permits and intervenes
Its narrative and scheme, in lover’s hand enweaved.

Graphite plays its frustrate part the writer
Seated far, far in a blissful nadir
Bristles in his pony tail like drawers end to no avail.
Search Dec 2012
I turn to the dark,
welcome back home.
Come one come all,
please enjoy the show.

We're clear for takeoff,
no more worries around.
Lose the landing gear,
I'm not comin back down.

The light's still callin,
"wait up, no don't go"
"you're not clear for takeoff,
someone cancel this show."

But its too late for me now,
done lookin for stop signs.
Maybe it was the shots that did it,
or perhaps the pills and all the lines.

Determined to find that feeling,
that I felt way back when.
That moment when everything made sense,
and all my worries seemed to end.

Fueled by pleasure,
so young and so free.
**** your long winded toast,
this next ones to me.

So hold'em up high,
lets live for this moment.
Tomorrow's not guaranteed,
but I'm gonna live like I know it.
Samuel Oct 2012
to hear the music singing, an unfiltered
hum in my ears always

and want nothing else.
c Feb 2021
Pretending--Preventing
A peek behind the curtain:
I've tightened the rope
I've split up the track
And hold steadfast the ends (no slack)
Spinning above, mid-air like some antisocial acrobat
I've learned the words
I've carved the face
To only read smile
While the rest seem to float
All show
No rope, though
that could be an act--as well--

c
Sam Temple Mar 2016
cross-over
behind the back
simple wrist flip
34 footer drops
and I sit in awe --
having witnessed
Showtime
Magic, Kareem, Worthy
Vs.
The Parquet floor
and Larry Bird….,
the bad boys,
and the Jordan era
(both incarnations),
big Timmy in San Antonio,
and Hakeem in Houston,
Shaq and Kobe,
Kobe and Gasol,
the reign of a new king
shinning like the sun in Miami...
they all sit back
like me
mouth open
feeling a state of awe
muthafukkin Stephe Curry
……hope homeboy stays healthy,
I like bearing witness to NBA godliness –
Teaching high school kids the craft
Directing them in their school show
Teenagers singing just off key
With a band that's one beat slow
Holding rehearsals when the gym is free
Have you really sunk this low
Are you truly at your bottom
Or are you "Waiting for Godot"?

"YOU'RE ON IN FIFTEEN MINUTES...MR. WILSON"

Doing plays in local theater groups
With untrained  amateurs on stage
You tell them all your stories
And you keep them on their page
It's not exactly where you started
Talent that you just can't gauge
Selling programs in the lobby
It's time you act your age

"TEN MINUTES TILL SHOWTIME MR. WILSON"

Touring shows around the country now
Second touring group, smaller towns
Doing revival shows of Sondheim
"Sweeney Todd " and "Send in the clowns"
Living out of an old suitcase
The countryside a sea of browns
Where you are at the local's mercy
And there's less ups than there are downs

"FIVE MINUTES TO SHOW TIME MR. WILSON"

You've made it, you're on Broadway
Starring roles are yours to choose
Where the highlights of last nights show
Are in today's reviews
Where a sold out run continues
And your name is in the news
You're an actor, and you're famous
The world is yours to lose

"SHOW TIME MR.. WILSON...ON STAGE PLEASE"

The kids are out there schlepping
working their way through the *****
singing songs sung by the Beatles
"All This and World War II"
You're just a pillar standing, sweating
As you see what you can do
You're still an actor, and you know it
You'll need a drink when this is through.
Storm Oct 2016
lights flashing through the city and polluting the air,
car horns honking and people colliding with your shoulder.
billboards flashing advertisements for the crowds below:
‘get a coke! stop by olive garden! try this phone service!’
and surrounding those screens, posters for the theater.
wicked, lion king, hamilton, and more
go to west 46th street and fight the crowd,
feel the excitement, hear the orchestra, touch the souvenirs,
let even a native new yorker become a tourist for one day
take your seat, admire the view, take some pictures,
listen to the ushers, watch the crowd settle, straighten as the lights dim.
everyone in places--it’s showtime.
Doug McCray Sep 2014
Find us idling our time away in the twilight of a movie theatre projector,
Intertwining,  intermingling, interlocking..down to the matched rhythm of breaths with her...
Criss cross them thighs to my Lap and let me caress up till I feel that knee becoming hip bone
Its been months since I felt all the sensations of a man lost in what some would call the zone
Lost in the coy smile in hands pushed back from pleasure just to be returned seconds later
Back to spots felt even stronger that a wait's made even better
Bitten lips never tasting more full, bitten lips bitten softer,
Lips just ripe for this mood and both best savored....

We just cant help ourselves when months of affections been saved
As i feel through our months of basic training till your legs tighten and beg
Pulling my body closer to yours, closer to the temptations you fight to conceal
Your eyes closing to the theatre around us to begin playing fantasies, for now, you just feel...
Grip tight baby and love loose...
Were just adding up our reasons and dividing the excuses to always equal youth
Come, rest in the pleasure of friction and fingers hidden in the dark,
Guilty by unsanctioned military pleasures, innocent by young hearts....

How much can two people fit between a showtime and credits
Would some say just a body that next weekend comes with seconds
Or others perhaps poems formatted inside those racing pulses
Count one butterflies count two everything off body language and impulse
An ecstasy that finds us spent and content when lights flicker back on
To then look into each other eyes and stare soft and stare long
To then hold the very hands that etched passion in every last valley of our bodies,
To then, just ever casually walk to the smell of popcorn, and the light of the lobby...
1487 Nov 2013
I've seen more *** scenes
On Showtime
Than I have ever watched ****

And I picture your lips
When they kiss
And her body
On top of yours

And there is nothing ******
About pretending
That you are inside her
Or that she is in you
In every way
That I couldn't be
AK93 Mar 2016
Its time to start preparing lines
The stage is ready for your moment to shine
All the action has lead to this
The starring role was yours to keep
So now its time to sow what you want to reap
Isla Jul 2019
broken souls slump against battered brick walls
the avenue drowning in cheap perfume
drawing in the tired
slick pavement melts the neon lights, bathing the cold street in red reflections

she puffs on a cigarette
smoke clearing her head as it fills her lungs
her lips taste are made of whiskey and a million well kept secrets
her smile never reveals too much
but she has learned not to be afraid
she has learned to keep her head up
she sighs and straightens her back
it’s showtime
https://youtu.be/UKMmfBkrhtY
Marco Benitez Jan 2018
People call it a cage, but I call it my room
I was born here, this is my very home

The lights are starting to shine
Is it already showtime?

The spotlight in the middle of the arena,
All eyes on me.

"DANCE!"
You yell, and I put on a show for you.

"FIGHT!"
Your demand reaches my ears,

"JUMP!"
                                                  ­              "TWIRL!"
                        "ROAR!"
          ­                                                                 ­      "SING!"
                                     "****!"
"SWIM!"
                                                 ­                                               "RUN!"

Your words are my commands,
Commands I Follow without questioning.

My only purpose is to entertain you,
My only desire is to hear you cheer.

You deserve it
You are better than me
I'm just a useless beast.


I got hurt?
It does not matter,
The show must go on.

After all, this show is for you specifically.


And you.


And you.


All of you are important
Let me be your slave
It would be a pleasure.



Kick me
Insult me
Make fun of me
Make me feel miserable.

Just don't hate me
It would ruin my purpose.

Do you hate me?
Am I not entertaining you?

I will change how I look!
I can make you laugh!
I can act better!
I will torture myself if I have to.

Is that not enough?

I can do better.
I can!

Just tell me what you want
I will do anything to please you



Am I still not enough?











WHAT DO YOU WANT?
I PROMISE I CAN DO IT!








no?
















Am I not entertaining anymore?















































**** ME

































EVEN BETTER











I CAN SAVE YOU THE WORK




























































­


































i will **** myself


anything to satisfy my audience.









anything

to satify

YOU

.
CharlesC May 2020
The flow of blood
Bears the oxygen from
The lungs..to our
Extremities...delivering
Sustenance to extend the
Lifetime of each organism..

Or..is this a flow within
Consciousness..an activity
Made of Consciousness..
Our conditioning most often
Selects the first option
Overlooking this One..

So..our new paradigm of
Consciousness-only
Suggests both options
Simultaneously..rendering
The flow of blood and
Oxygen delivery as
Appearances within
Appearances..Showtime
In Grey's Anatomy..!

Freedom at last
From grasping illusions..
Rhona Oct 2014
I am a princess.
You pay for my time and ask for nothing in return.
I sit and stare at all the people dancing.
I'm pretty next to you.
I am a princess.
Some dance, some don't.
They just want to talk .
They just need someone to show off.
Some twirl me and guide my step.
Others just stare "all you can eat buffet"
Pretty girls, sad lives.
That's my story.
Getting pretty to be called on.
And once they call its showtime.
I am a princess in that club.
Zoe Mae Aug 2021
The sun takes her place
Nature's actors prep their lines
Songs ring out showtime
Since I ******* up my original morning haiku, had to write another.
Zabada Zipporah Apr 2014
i fumble around in darkness, even during the day
and my faint memory of this place helps me none.
i ask "why did you leave me?"
and you reply the same as always - silence
so i stumble through life feeling for the familiar
nothing ever seems right with out you
pleasantly, you appear to me during dreams yet filling my mind of agony
i grasp a hold onto you every time,
so how is it that i awake from sleep and you still aren't here with me
life seems as if its the Armageddon, because with everyday
my spirit goes astray,
i hear its abandoning footsteps down the hall
like timed grenades synchronized to the beat of my heart.
and yet i feel no distress as it departs,
because see you took the one thing that completes me.
foolishly i sting my finger tips on the sockets
while caressing my way through
so i figure ill turn the tv on
even though showtime is no longer fun with out you.
and to really think about it, you made all the difference
now everything is just different with you gone.
no warning and no goodbye,
i didn't know i could still produce tears with out site
so what do the other 4 mean without number 5?
the lawn mower outside woke me up that morning,
and the grass smelt calm, i could hear so clear the birds soaring through the trees - one at a time
toothpaste never tasted so strong
and though the volume was never changed
there's even a difference in my song.
i can only feel the pictures on the walls,
and it hurts to picture them in my mind at all.
if only i could sleep until time restored you,
but its better to have loved and lost
then to not have had you.
so what is vision?
the end or the beginning?
first draft of this tell me how you like it
A Poet Feb 2020
Touch every part of my body
Make my lips bleed red wine
Make love to me by dawn
Like it were the first time...

Cut your teeth into my skin
And keep the secret of mine
Love me until we burn to ashes
like it were the last time...

Put your hands ‘round my hips
My ***’ll start the showtime
Take me fully, be ‘n me like eclipse
And tell me, “You’re forever mine...”
Hannah Adair Jul 2013
Flesh to cloth- Paper to flesh
Dances and lights- Showtime.
All I see is brokenness. This isn't a game.

Cheek to cheek- Head to toe
Smiles and laughter- Guises.
Money is just stuff. It will only fade away.

Hand to hand- Hand to waist.
Tension and release- Ecstasy.
Marital status counts for naught. Cash is king.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2015
.
O the trender souls who keep
Spewing their ladled ornaments,
Words even a dull, starving bird
Would not gobble, plastic pieces,
Rambles of thought, unthought,
Pretty sounding, shiny trinkets,
Merely nailed by some old book,
Or a dog eared dictionary, maybe,
Some pulpy article wherein hacks,
Dreamt with loss, sad aspirations,
These are the dug trailings of fools,
Lazy, writers who fancy themselves,
Fancying themselves, in a black mirror,
Merciful as imagination and delusion,
O how the neophyte sings without any
Voice, nor depth, nor taste, nor blood,
Conscious revels in unconsciousness,
O but lame awaits the vain, the shallow,
The self proclaimed, the peacock, but, their
Showtime is only something base, something
Not and ghost peculiar, something only a carny
Would know to mock, revile as he promotes.
How glittering are the newest word baubles,
Blathering speak to mask all faceless souls,
Twaddle, twitterings, revered by simpletons.
Marci Ace Apr 2015
One day my grandma asked me,
Am I happy?
I didn’t quite understand
So I said ‘what happy at home’?
She responded and said
‘No happy with life’?
I stopped to think,
Lied and said ‘yeah’
But deep down inside
I was walking in hell bare.
Gripping on my blunt,
While the loud music blare.
Hell no I’m not happy!,
Hell no I’m not fine!,
Hell no I can’t sit down,
And have a good time.
It’s hard to trust.
Love will get you killed
So watch yourself that’s a must.
Struggling thru my hard times.
Wondering if my mama still love me.
Will God forgive me for all the dirt I did?
All the sins I sinned?
Would he still love a broken heart,
That wont mend?
Breathe smelling like gin.
Heart tighter than skin.
Will he still love me?
I was born innocent and precious,
But now I’m about to cut my verses,
Here’s the message.
I’m reppin’ and spittin’,
Snitches looking and tellin’,
Snakes movin’ in lesson,
But see I don’t know who’s real,
And who’s not.
My life tangled in a knot.
I’m about to put a red laser dot,
Sticking to your forehead like a blot.
Stand still while your ******* head
Get shot.
Gma I want to sleep on a Marriott!
I dreamed of having a chariot.
But now I’m making money out the
Sticky ***.
Gunned down with a 50 shot.
Life coming to you,
Don’t get popped.
Stop pretending to be
Something your not.
Your skin huggin’ your bones.
You out reppin’ and spittin’,
But where’s your home?
Mama I’m sorry for
Causing so much pain.
So much pain became a
Memory lane.
I dream of ridin’ gettin’ high,
In my own private plane,
But it’s a **** shame,
I’ve been set by squares,
And a bunch of lames.
Real ****** lose to win,
But **** ****** lose the game.
I’m looking at the world thru my review,
With low eyes, and blind eyes.
Blind eyes,
Its show time,
Showtime It’s my time.
Cause Gma I’m not happy.
I’m not happy!
I’m not happy!
I want to go to the gun range,
And shoot off the oozi,
**** a ***** in a Jacuzzi,
Sit back and watch him do me.
Then cut his *** off like a butcher.
I’m trying to chase my dreams,
Before they leave.
Lord forgive me for I am guilty of
Greed.
I want to be rich.
I’m tryin’ make it out the
Gutta but life such a *****.
I thought my home girl was down,
But come to find out she was a snitch.
I got better so I won’t leave her in the ditch.
It seems like my life,
Changes a little bit by the day.
Obama trying to take a stand,
And have something to say,
But **** them!
I’m going to do it my way.
There’s kids crying,
And people weeping.
Preachers preaching,
And mama still teaching.
It seems like the devil having
A field day,
But ******* satan,
Yo *** going in the grave.
I got to stand up,
And make it happened.
I’m going to be somebody,
Just save the clapping.
Gma I love you,
And to answer your question-
No I’m not happy.



Marci H.
Shallow Nov 2019
When showtime comes the curtain will rise
You'll prepare your face with cold blue eyes
Together you're here
With the quiet and queer
And then you'll sing your own demise
ROMEO AND JULIET
James Floss Oct 2017
time slows,
shows, goes

feel it come—
then its gone

anticipate to
participate…

(endeavor to
remember)
Rickey Someone Apr 2019
4/5/2019

In the middle of my transgression,
That trap I’ve fallen in before,
I cry out with desperation,
And I find an open door.
Could it have been there the whole time?

When there seems to be no progression,
It seems I can’t bear it any longer.
Where is the inert deliberation?
Somehow I must ignore the anger,
But how can I find good in the grime?

All I can see: my inward aggression!
That fuse always burning shorter,
Only accomplishing obliteration.
As I make myself a martyr,
I am sacrificed for an unknown crime.

Though my face gains new expression,
New is just another word for darker.
Inward digs the outward oppression,
It must die, but never can I conquer.
Death bells don’t seem to chime.

My focus is always my impression,
I exist to make me look better.
If it were up to my discretion,
All would fall into disorder.
Does it ever end, this eternal climb?

My story now in compression,
I couldn’t resist anymore.
My biggest fears now in suppression,
The door is the way out. Therefore,
Step though, I must. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the end of all my repression!
All of me spilled on the floor!
There is no regression!
All of me, anyone can explore!
This exposed feeling is not sublime!

That open door, a misimpression?
Expectation missed, take it away, I implore!
My perspective, it doesn’t freshen,
My new life, why for it do I deplore?
Still I desire to go backwards everytime.

Is Your will bent for my depression?
Is Your love just folklore?
No! Doubt is sadly my profession,
Thank You for all that You restore,
You forgive my idiotic paradigm.

Maybe this was all to get my attention.
Though my soul feels sore,
I know I’m in a better position.
You’ve won, forget the score,
Although over time I worked overtime.

Results result from action,
What’s this all for?
Near extinction, is my confession,
But I’m no longer like that dinosaur.
I’m running out of words to rhyme.

In the end, I made the right decision,
It’s all so much more,
I’m thankful for my Implosion,
There’s less of me than before,
With you in side as my enzyme.
Ryan Bowdish Sep 2021
When will this end
When will I fly
Will I ever see the world I idealized?

When will it change
When will I cease
Dreaming of dying, of endless release?

When will I cry
When will I feel
Will I ever know what it means to be real?

When will I learn
When will I grow
Sometimes I think of just closing the show
Depression
niamh Jul 2015
I am a composer
of poems
and a conductor
of musings,
The words,
together
a symphony of wonder
in rehearsals,
fall flat
at showtime,
but still
they sound sweet to me.
And so I dance.
Kenya83 Dec 2019
Painted Christmas cheer masking fear
Jokes and smiles hide miles and miles of sorrows
Don’t look in to each other’s eyes too long
You’ll catch some truth
The illusion will melt like icicles
The show must go on
a sudden Bonanza viz ****** abuse among
faux Green Acres within Mayberry RFD
now spells showtime for The Avengers, Batman
and Robin to Get Smart
take to heart (what haint no new bob bing beast),

those perpetrators to forsake their Good Times
yet, who determines what constitutes, and how to differentiate
mere kibitzing from unwanted overtures
though most people would concur when
definitive, tangible, verbal assault occurs,

spoiling future Happy Days, yet numerous incidents (*** hide
from clear cut serious offences indeed)
rather when details appear nebulous, sketchy, vague,
et cetera defy categorization, giving benefit of doubt to
females or males in question claiming harrassment,

especially when minors testify as adults, asper
major gross indignties (such as pedofilia, date,
incestuous, statutory ****, ******,
et cetera committed), that occurred years or decades ex post facto

sans molestation, said time delayed contention
must be taken at face value without fail informing
a jury retroactive justice must be must be handed down
to the accuser blatantly, flagrantly, flaunting illegality,

hence fair sentence accordingly adjudicated
insync decreed capital crime abrogated child welfare,
defiling and permanently affecting emotional well being
of said underage youths, as best one  

to compensate aggrieved subjects must purge
abominable categorical imperative
asper deliberate wanton (I soup pose), tricked, mislead,
forced to participate unwillingly
risking mental, physical and spiritual health of innocent kid

imposing unforgivable, horrible, execrable misdeeds
irrevocably damaging Lassie or laddie,
which indelibly foisted battering, whereby
even Doctor Marcys Welby M.D. unable to mend

condemning sufferer to psychological Mash pit
triggering  Maude lin while Knot's Landing flooded.
Camille Jun 2022
You use me, replace me, reuse and repeat
With the words you spread and lies so sweet
Discretely I hid the way you mistreat
I was your greatest victim my downfall made you complete
With your twisted words and cover uped lies
I hope you enjoy my biggest suprise
Viseract May 2016
The ******* get bitchier by the year,
The most common insult is "that ***'s queer"
I ignore the threats, laugh at the bets
And I'm still laughing when I smash in their head

Some don't believe, others try to deceive
They think I'm weak but that's what they see
Looks can be deceiving, the only quote I'm reciting
Hope they think the same when they're beaten and bleeding

My father told me not to start ****
But honestly, they just keep going at it
One day I'll snap, fall into the trap
And bust my way out as if I had a secret map

High-school horrors, mocking me
Taunting me, make me bleed
My heart is bursting full of rage and hate
You better give it up before it's too late

Fate and chance, holding hands
Slowly waltzing, eternal dance
So I'll bide my time, and spring the opportunity
Leap at it with both hands and fulfil my destiny

I know how to fight, hoping you're getting this right
I try not to overkill but I can show you lights
Showtime, centre stage, playtime, anytime
Storytime, finalised, tell it to your kids

About that one kid who took them all down
Grabbed his neck, forced him back, slammed his *** into the ground
Smiled and laughed at their pathetic attempts
The worst thing for your business is when you mess with the best!

High-school horrors, mocking me
Taunting me, make me bleed
My heart is bursting full of rage and hate
You better give it up before it's too late

I've decided, this isn't worth listening to
So what you gonna do?
I hope this gets through to you

I've decided, I now know what I'm gonna do
So what you gonna do?
When my fist meets your head and it bursts right through!

Blood on the ground and a beautiful sound
Finally, silence, paralysed by shock and horror
Didn't expect this? Didn't think of the consequence?
Should'a thought it through now let me just finish this!

High-school horrors, mocking me
Taunting me, make me bleed
My heart is bursting full of rage and hate
You better give it up before it's too late

High-school horrors, mocking me
Taunting me, make me bleed
My heart is bursting full of rage and hate
You better give it up before it's too late
Possibly my new favourite song of mine. Hope you enjoy

— The End —