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Steve Page May 2018
Everything
you've heard about me
is true.
- Apart from that thing with L3.
We were just friends.
Honest.
You just gotta love Lando Calrissian.
V Feb 2018
Beauty is a fallacy.
It makes sense to us,
but who has the right to
determine it?

The majority of the
Population perceives that
they are given that right,
for beauty has been twisted,
manipulated and barbed into
a wire that is toxic and
vehemently grotesque.

Beauty is subjective,
Its core isn’t objective.
We like to think it is,
but in reality, in notions,
in principles, and in practices
it is not

For beauty is determined by grace,
by elegance, and most importantly looks.

Beauty of thought and process
is highly disregarded.
It has become but a mere
illusion, barren in both
the intricacy of reality and truth.

Beauty is subjective, yet
it is determined by predispositions
and implicit standards that
originated many years ago,
yet these originated ideals
still reign supreme today.

Beauty is far more than
an outward façade,
For beauty is truth,
beauty is compassion,
beauty is knowledge
beauty is humility.
Kwamé Mar 2018
Nothing burns
Like a cold heart
Let bygones be bygones
I know I broke your heart into pieces
But I know you believe in fate
And I know if I play my cards right
You'll be mine

And she says boy, haven't you been listening?
I told you time and time again
Kind gestures are appreciated
And you do make me smile
But this girl is flying solo
And even though I know
The answer,
I ask her why?
And she says I'm not lonely
I'm alone
Aaron LaLux Mar 2018
Tomorrow is literally always a day away,
call her Laura Tomorrow make no mistake,
because as she arrives she starts to fade,
she’s thee greatest love that you’ve ever made,

and I swear to God,
I don’t mean that to sound too cliche,
‘cause her Style is so Wild,
that I don’t know how to behave,

not a master,
nor a slave,
of anyone,
other than my one fate,

intoxicated faded,
sedated medicated,
it’s amazing all the difference,
a single day did,

I thought that I’d made it,
until I found my self in an Alone Silence,
see the bigger the house the more lonely it feels,
the more window panes the more hanging curtains,

the taller the walls the smaller I feel,
dark alone not even sure what the point is,
a self created health related paranoia,
feeling mixed up was a schitzo that’s double jointed,

designed my defenses so well,
that I can’t even escape it,
built walls so tall and disguises so well,
that I can’t even recognize myself when I’m naked,

take it,
or don’t,
what’s the worth of being a genius,
if all it makes is a poem,

I’m thrown,
off the throne,
dizzy,
naked and alone,

well not alone,
but also not at home,
I try the phone but there’s no dial-tone,
then the next moment I am frozen,

can’t move,
forget the breath,
remember only the memory of a memory,
forget the rest,

no place to rest,
no rest assured,
no rest stops on the road of life,
no lines only blurs,

what has occurred,
and what was the worth,
were you given the cure,
or were you made worse,
is it better to be late,
or is it better to be first,
is it better to be paid,
or is it better to be hurt,
is it better to be said,
or written in a verse,

written in a verse,
this is the love and yeah love hurts,
we take a risk,
every time we love first,

and she’s like a dream,
dream,
dream,
dream,

dreaming of a better day,
leaving all my yesterdays,
ironic how the Brightest Lights,
can be the first to fade…

Tomorrow,
is literally always a day away,
call her Laura Tomorrow,
make no mistake,
because as she arrives,
she starts to fade,
she’s thee greatest love,
that you’ve ever made,

tomorrow,
is literally always a day away,
call her Laura Tomorrow,
make no mistake…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

New Book FREE Right Now: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

You are your own instrument in the
world orchestra

Join the chorus
Play a solo

Or

Simply stop
Rest
And listen to the beauty
happening all around you

The choice is yours

Be your own voice
Or follow another
But only follow another if
it resonates in your core
as your true calling

Above all else
follow your heart

Let your inner beauty shine
so that the world can
share in the special unique
characteristics and traits that glorify
your idiosyncratic nature
wholly encompassing
all that you are
Making you special
Making you YOU

Because the best version of you
is the authentic you
And it not only
brings inner peace
but is also
the greatest gift
you can give
the world
Written: March 8, 2018

All rights reserved
BC Jaime Mar 2018
he was a tambourine
cling-cling-cling
competing with the guitar,
strrr...uuummm...
bass,
puuu-waaa...ssh!
and drums
BO...o...Om!

In the orchestra
he was the conductor's baton
swish-swish-swish
drowned out by the oboe
BRRR...Rooo...
cello
teener-neener-teen
violin
Neee-nah­-neee...nahnahnah-nee...

When he went solo
he was a harp
bling-bling-bling-bling...
graceful, delicate
tling-ling-ring-bling...
his strings plucked
pling-pling-pling-pling
by angels
© BC Jaime 2018 || IG: @b.c.Jaime

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.
Will Feb 2018
A haunting voice echoes into the void.
Light is engulfed by the darkness of the oncoming night.
Many try to shout out in terror, yet only whispers escape their mouths.
Dogs whimper as they hide with their caregivers.
Birds cease their frantic chirping.
The land has been enveloped by the night.
Yet the haunted voice sings on.
An aria for the darnkess.
V Feb 2018
His hands were calloused,
they were home and a
remedy for the mixture of
my sickness that I never
could pinpoint.

Hands, such a feature
that could be the instrument
of a subordinate
and domineering teacher.

They are looked upon,
not given thought nor inquisition,
but that wasn't the case for me.

Those hands were
where I found my
reprieve, an unhealthy
and vindictive reprieve.

Those hands were
a paradox of all
things combined.
Those hands were a
paradox for the cruelties
and involuntary injustices
in the world; A world
that was filled with grizzly
reprimands and slurs for
those who spoke up.

Indeed, a paradox those
controlling and
manipulative hands were.
They were cruel.
They were kind.
They were abusive.
They were reassuring.
They were foreign.
They were home.
They were the origin
for my shred of sanity.
They were the origin
for my absurdity.

Oddly enough,
they were home.

A cruel world seals
its fate and its pearls.
It leaves the rarity of
oddities abandoned among
the normalities of abuse.

Among those normalities
and oddities were those
hands.
Brittney T Feb 2018
The first time I tried strumming strings
I cried and cried
I felt I couldn't get clean.

My friends tell me I need to practice;
find out if I'm a harp or a horn.
But as much as I tried
I ended up torn.

It wasn't wrong to develop an interest,
so I put myself out there, I couldn't rest.
I imagined the jungle, the tundra, the sea
But these different rhythms weren't for me.

I'll never forget when I met the musician.
He showed me a song in his room.
Finally, It washed over me!
Va Va Voom

He showed me his
and he showed me mine.
It was new and confusing,
exotic, frightening
absolutely, perfectly enlightening.

I am full of bass,
brass and strength!
I spent too long
trying to epitomize grace.

He taught me a wild, improvised tune
but I can't remember!
What he played that June.
If this is supposed to be natural, why do I still **** at it? Started out as a self depracating joke with a friend, but I'm kinda digging it.
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