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Man Mar 6
Do people not see the separation of culture?
The quiet segregation of our artists,
Where we all hurt for their hidden toils.
By the media corporations that pay
Real artists pennies on the dollar.
Who bully those to ghost write
For people they believe will sell better.

Your feed is targeted, more selected
Than you can even imagine.
The profile built on most of you is
Down to a T, it should scare you and
I do not fear monger.
I have heard screams from one with no mouth;
I have seen myself programmed
To live out a life to completion
At the direction of others
Man Mar 6
I tell you all
As someone born to politics,
As someone who when he was born
Was told that everything is political;
There is a far larger nefarious thing
Going on behind the curtain, screen.
You are being tapped of all you know
Trapped, in a snare that closes slow
Man Mar 6
They don't want you to look up
To look at the stars
They feel it is reserved for them,
The rich - not the intelligent.
They realize how it will make you feel,
Small.
And you'll realize,
They are too.
Steve Page Mar 2
as he sat soft beside me.
“Sure,” I said, with ill feeling.
My instinct was not to cross my friend,
I had too few left.

I nodded to the Ape behind the bar and he obliged
with one lemon & ginger and one green tea.
He knows his regulars well
and we know we’d need to wait til later for anything stronger.

“Look,” he said, and I turned to see
a gap and I counted the two teeth that were missing -
no, not missing - he opened his hand
and there they were, both accounted for,
safe and secure in his grey leathery palm.

“Look,” he repeated, (a little slurred this time)
and turned his fist so I could see
the missing skin and the bruises
that gave testimony to his amateur status.  

His ****** grin and wet laughter
shook the silverback back into action
and we got a plate of malted milks.
Like I say, he knows his regulars well
and he’d listened when I told him
where he could get a regular supply,
direct from Staffordshire, in the UK.

“Lo-ok,” he said (more hesitant this time)
and lifted his shirt a little to reveal the knife wound,
replete with knife, buried to the hilt.

“Loo-,“ he started to say, as he slid off the bar stool
taking his tea with him, the porcelain shattering on the stone floor.

I winced – the cups had been a gift
to the Ape from my mother.
‘Why should the chimps get all the best crockery?’ she’d explained.

“I’ll pay for the breakage,” I said
and the Ape nodded his furrowed brow
as he swung round to grab the dustpan and mop.

I drank my tea,
counting off the friends that remained.
Inspired by the vibe in Dave Newman's collection, The Poem Pactory, published by White Gorilla Press.
selina Feb 28
drunk kissing blurry faces under neon lights
i'm sorry that your party had to end with a fight
but that creep was overstepping everywhere tonight

after sharing reservations about people getting high
your friend won't stop asking for my marly lights
these cigs for aesthetics are going to ruin our lives

debrief time: your parents argue, divorce is in sight
romance is everywhere, you're convinced that i'm blind
hey, out of curiosity, have you ever wished on a satellite?
My Dear Poet Feb 20
While you advance in front of me
I’m already a step ahead
studying your moves from behind

While you may rule over me
I’m only holding you up
for your fall

While you ignore me
you’ll forget to listen
and fail to hear when I come
Zack Ripley Feb 19
Sometimes, I wish I could stop breathing
for more than a minute.
Because breathing means I'm fighting.
And God, I can't tell you the last time
I thought I had a good reason why.
Maybe it's in my blood.
Maybe it's just a matter of time.
Or maybe, just maybe...
you don't need to have a good reason to fight.
Jeremy Betts Feb 15
{expanded version}

If life was a day...
What would a day in the life look like?
Would you dream with no time to bring said dream to light?
With no time to heal would you put up a fight?
With little time to work on yourself would you even listen to another's plight?
It would eliminate the full spectrum of pain and hate
But the cycle of love and that connection would be on the same connecting flight
Couldn't enjoy the finer things, no more designer things
No time to trend, no time to reach that hight
Would there be time to worry about right and wrong, would you learn wrong from right?
I don't know...I might

©2024
~•§•~ Life in a Day ~•§•~
{original}
If life was a day...
What would a day in the life look like?

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4799791/life-in-a-day/
Renae Jan 30
breathe
in deep, out long
inhale, exhale
if i inhale this medication
will i feel again?
just begin, no, sleep in
long hours, looking
watching them
scrolling,
learning survival
is all i'm interested in

one day
i'll take action
til then
days drag on
skin wilting
strength fleeting
sleep, more sleep
help, no...
i give in

get up
you're still alive
open the blinds
it's nice outside
don't you want to
start, start something
somewhere
don't close your eyes
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