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Jeremy Betts Apr 1
Does a poem write itself?
Do they exist before created?
In essence, existing all around us
Absorbed into the psyche
Processed through the brain
Sent to a hand
Finished through the tip of a pen
Too then again
Be consumed by another human person
Producing a new translation
A different interpretation
But there's limits to randomization
Will we ever get to the point where every thought has been expressed?
Every possible sentence arrangement has been recorded and sent to the press?
Is there still the possibility that an original thought can be had?
It's a silly concept but maybe
One day writers block will be victorious
There's only so many different ways that these words can be organized into
Though, I can't imagine what that'll look like
When every thought has been thought through
When nothing's new
Will it still continue?

©2024
Man Dec 2023
Can you call?

When voices are lost,
And nothing but silence echoes

Truly, it is too much-
To love with your all, it takes a cost
At the expense of yourself, you let go

Rear cheek,
And rob the moment of any frost,
Recompense, in word and not wound

What a world it could be,
If we weren't so self consumed.
Man Aug 2023
In the pool hall,
We speak of revolution
And on resolutions.
How to wake people up?
We are all so consumed,
With the struggles of day-to-day.
So focused on the bottom line:
We're letting the future slip away.
Michael Apr 2021
Not a fantasy.
It's reality.
Is it really
as we think it to be?
To me, what I see
and perceive,
isn't enough to
make me believe,
there's somethin' else
that's happening.
In my own world.
My own everything.
It's my own fantasy,
in my reality.
Michael A Duff Mar 2021
She had all of me

Completely consumed by her

There was nothing left
We met like souls long separated lived like lovers and made plans together for a future that we would never realize. Years later I wonder how her daughters are, who is she now, what mask does she ware, or did she finally become herself the one I met all those years ago.
LC Jan 2021
fear is a tiny seed
planted in my lower belly.
the seed sprouts suddenly,
its roots extending toward my feet.
my thoughts are consumed by the seed,
which grows into a strong, sturdy tree
whose branches wrap around me,
paralyzing my whole being.
jǫrð Dec 2020
Consumed and confused
There is no line keeping me
From you, except you
The History: I keep waiting for that emphatic love that fits right and doesn't apologize.
Caitlin Faykus Nov 2020
Ash
My body smells of ash
Because I one had this fire
That consumed me
And left nothing else
But ash
Nolan Willett Nov 2020
It’s when, to follow your dreams,
You give up everything,
And you, piece by piece, are consumed
‘Till you’re living in a nightmare
Hales Nov 2020
When you said you loved the darkness inside-
I never thought
Id watch
as
it
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You....
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