Arts + Entertainment
The central nexus for all things film, gaming, art, and music.
It's Time For Summer School
The 80s was a time of both great music and great film making. Whether it was action, comedy, drama, or all of those combined, the decade of hair and flair really gave the world some great timeless classics to enjoy for years to come. Taking a step away from the classics, I decided to watch Summer School (1987), a film about a gym teacher who is forced to teach Remedial English during the California summer.
Embers
My first 'love' Well, close enough it seemed, Was one I caught in the dark, A pretty face on a glowing screen A single finger struck a match,
Nadia MariePublished 7 years ago in PoetsLoneliness
I’m still breathing and talking, still seeing and walking. I am lifeless and dead, or so they said. But if that were so, why would I go. Breathing and walking, and saying hello. But as I walk along the coast, I feel like a ghost, cause I'm lonelier than most. I’m smelling, feeling, tasting jello, and yet I'm still just the loneliest fellow. They see me, feel me, and know I'm there, but they never ever ever ever seem to care. Life and death isn’t fair, but she doesn’t even care, with every last breath I will love her to death. But she won’t ever seem to care, Cause she won’t see me, feel me, or know I'm there. from the shadows my voice will scare, my love with skin so fair. that I wouldn’t dare, come out and prove i’m there. I wouldn’t dare, not to scare for that I am fair. FOR THAT I AM FAIR!
Taylor CostaPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHe Will
So, what now? She asks herself. She moves her hair with a simple blow. She reaches for her friend she hid on the top shelf.
Tanaka MadzimaPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWords To My Soulmate
I do not possess the vocabulary to describe you, You are the poetry I wish to write. If I did, the words I could write would move mountains.
Miranda StanleyPublished 7 years ago in PoetsA Special Place For You and Me
I lie on the ground And stare into space The stars start to move Into the shape of a face I see you there now Looking down at me
Cindy ThurmPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWhy Uncle Why
As I walk upon this land I think of you. I think of you Crying as the fall wind whips my face. I think why? Why? You left me here all alone with no dreams,
Tiah TourangeauPublished 7 years ago in PoetsA Moonlit Memory
One little dove flying in the moonlight, to a little girl it's a beautiful sight. One little girl crying in her hands, one little boy comes and takes her hand.
Taylor CostaPublished 7 years ago in Poets