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Matthew A Cain Jul 2017
They say we’re crazy
Chasing stupid millennial dreams
Too far fetched they seem and sometimes we agree
But secretly we hope and pray they become reality

Excuse the interruption but does this sound familiar for anybody else?

“Big house on its second mortgage, and a camper for when we feel like downsizing prison.
Cars each on a different loan, manicured lawn because we must show status in everything we own.
Monday, he cheated with the bottle and she cheated in her heart
Tuesday, sister came home late, crying her eyes out because the arms of her last lover were just like her fathers.
Wednesday was surprisingly peaceful, but unnerving, as sunny days were far and few between and I was thinking this was just the calm before the storm.
Thursday I saw father sitting on the floor his last straw a piece of paper "final notice" printed in red
Friday mother sat in the car for an extra twenty minutes starring blankly at the door contemplating her life
Saturday was fight night
Sunday we went to church and pretended it was all alright”

I’m sorry if my pursuit in life is simply this: Happiness.
If it looks like a retrofitted van and I live like a *** because I never want to fight about little green men
Or, if it was a tiny home that her and I could reasonably afford on land far away from the city lights and temptations that come at night
You could say It’s something about the fights we could hear through thick walls that drove us mad inside
And now we chase peace and calm, love and happiness, through any means
Because that’s something that cannot be bought despite our parents thoughts.
I started out with a completely different poem but somehow it morphed into this as I delved into my thoughts. The more I think about my generation and our obsession with tiny homes and little joys in life I believe this is what drives us to this way of life.
Mikayla Smith Jun 2017
We
We have funny colored hair
And we sing our corrupted music a little too loud
We paint pretty pictures of revolution
Right on the surface of our diamond-studded faces.

We run away from responsibility,
In fear of not meeting the standards set by generations before.
Work hard, no sleep.
Play a little less, fall under the knife.
When will we reach the ****** of
This demented little fairytale?

Sit in a perfectly placed corner,
Smile wide, and don’t say a word.
They’re going to muffle your cries with cotton, anyways.
Open to interpretation ;)
RazanSidErani May 2017
the millennials like to dream,
we like to believe in anything.
love, life and food cycles lasts forever
at least in photographs it does.
the age of superhero movie adaptations
and the golden age of TV.
where an epic episode cost ten million
times have changed
but we never stop dreaming
its a daydream nation out there
by RazanSidErani
Deep Thought Jan 2017
This is for my generation.
  A generation full of selfies, in short for selfish.
  A generation of women murdering their own unborn babies.
Woman walk around half dressed hoping a man will grant them respect.
As they reclaim their lives, renaming it feminism at it's best.
This is for my generation.
A generation of men that rather play with their hands.
Rather than creating work out of their bare hands.
Lusting for women as if we were created for one night stands.
We are the millennials.* We're *full of worldly distractions.
Looking for our parents to be the lending tree.
Since we spend most of our money on ***** & ****.
This is for my generation.
Can't you see we're slowly dying off? We are becoming too self involved.
While every pleasure keeps causing our own demise.
We're too stubborn to realize our ways are flawed.
We mask it and look for love in other people. Yet, we feel emptier when the love isn't reciprocated. Some call this "unrequited love".
This is for my generation.
I'm here to tell you that, you are loved, you are cherished, and you can be forgiven. You can be saved, not by your works or how much money you make.
If you only believe what He did for you on the cross.
The perfect blood Atonement.
We are the Godless generation. Most would say they believe in evolution, perhaps others would mention God.
This is for my generation.
See, Jesus didn't come for the religious people. In fact, he called them frauds. He's more than just a bunch of rules and laws. In reality, He only came to save the lost. Which lead him to be hated, beaten and killed on a cross. 3 days later, He rose from the dead something Allah never did.
Now that our King is risen, He's offering a free gift of salvation. That's why it's called Grace. Being coming Christian doesn't make you perfect, don't get it twisted. I'm just a forgiven sinner by His definition.

**The choice is yours.
God selects what Man neglects.
Lawrence Hall Dec 2016
Millennials at Work and War

Scorn not the snowflake who stands watch for us

Now thrown into the existential struggle
Surrendering their youth and taking up life
They muster in the fields and factories
And in their elders’ undeclared, shadowy wars
Uniformed in an unappreciated sense
Of duty and dignity while scorned by those
Who take their ease upon the couches of sloth
And fling cheap mockery at millennials
Who take up tools and work and love of life
Sometimes to die in deserts still unmapped
While generals dismiss their casualties as light
Despised as snowflakes by keyboard commandos
Who never got closer to any war
Than a John Wayne ketchup-****** movie.
Some work long double shifts through university
In a sawmill, shop, or fast foodery
Only to be dismissed as slacker layabouts,
But expected to trust those who condemn them
For not being the greatest generation
As defined by those who never served at all
And while being criticized they will grab
A quick cup of coffee for the night shift
Staffing the hospitals and police patrols
That keep their sneering critics alive and safe
They drive the trucks, they man the ships, they work
They drill for oil, these useless millennials
While idlers lounge long in the coffee shops
And YooToob computered jokes about them
Millennials have no time for coloring books
Or comfort animals or revolution
For they are weary with study and work
The best of them make no demands, but, sure
A little respect, hard-earned, would be nice
If only the scripted singer-songwriters
Would pack up the tired old stereotypes
And see millennials as they truly are
But darkness falls – they must go back to work
On the eleven-seven, the graveyard shift
They do not burn draft cards or Medicare cards
Instead through work they illuminate this world
And build it up with continued sacrifice

Scorn not the snowflake who stands watch for us
Kelly Bitangcol Dec 2016
Doctors say that babies learn to talk during the first two years of their lives, they’re learning the rules of language and how adults use it to communicate. They’ll begin by using their tongue, lips and any growing teeth to be able to make sounds. And soon, these unknown sounds that your baby uttered will become real words, such as ‘mama’ or ‘papa’, that will bring tears to your eyes as early as six months. From then on, your baby will pick up more words from you and everyone else around. And sometime between 18 months and 2 years, your baby will begin to form two- to four-word sentences. As babies make mental, emotional, and behavioral leaps, they are increasingly able to use words to describe what they see, hear, feel, think, and want. In this world, age is not just a number. It’s the basis of everything. The right age to study, the right age to watch films, the right age to fall in love, the right age to do everything, because there will always be a proper age for something. However, there are times in your life when you don’t know if you truly are in the right age, and when does your age become proper or improper to something. Many people don’t believe that I’m only 15 because of the reasons I write “deep” poetry and that I speak of certain issues that a 15 year old shouldn’t mind. So sometimes, I also wonder the things they do, am I really just 15? Now whenever someone asks me how old I am, I will just say I-don’t-know years old.

People will celebrate and rejoice the time a baby speaks for the first time, but right now, when young people speak, everybody will do the opposite. I’ve preached so much about equality and one of the responses I got was “You’re too young.” A group of millennials went to a rally to achieve justice and fight against history revisionism but apparently they don’t have the rights to speak because how could they know about it when they haven’t even experienced it? Oh and of course, the famous reason that they’re too young, they can’t do anything. When young people speak about something, everybody will shame them and throw them numbers while saying “Check your ages first before you begin talking.” But we did already, we checked our ages, we checked history, we checked facts, things which you clearly didn’t do. So the millennials explained, told them about history and why they don’t want it to happen again, told them they don’t need to experience something first before showing empathy, and that apathy isn’t a very good trait. But the people covered their ears, and told them, “Shut up. you know too much, you temperamental brats.” So that will leave us, the youth, confused. That a couple of months ago they’re complaining that we don’t know about anything and now they’re complaining because we do. Why do people shame us for not doing something and doing something at the same time? Why do people feel like they are entitled to when we should speak up? Like their jobs are putting tapes to our mouths and shut us up whenever they want to. But it’s not our fault that reality opened our eyes too early, but it will be ours if we shut them. So we were the ones who chose not to, we were the ones who chose to fight, to speak and to do something about it. And as they shame us for speaking up and knowing too much, we fight and rise to have the thing the world always wanted. My voice, my single voice, will make a difference that no one absolutely expected, and when we have our voices combined, think of the things we could change, or possibly, think of the things we could save. We will speak, shout, chant and fight together and they will realise the power of the people, they will realise we are unconquerable. You know what they say, when a fire starts to arise, people will do everything to put it out. But if you’re using your flames in a right way, do not let them end yours. Use them to light the darkness in the world, use them to warm up the cold things, use your fire to ignite.

When they tell you you’re too young to be able to change something, prove to them that courage and persistence have no age. Speak up, remove the tight grip in your mouth that has been keeping it shut for too long, fight for what’s right. The moment they hush you and ask for your age, tell them. Tell them how young you are and your desire to make a difference, tell them your passion to strive and tell them you’re never going to stop. **And from now on, never let them silence you.
Tim Knight Oct 2016
I sit and try and be a lotus
after killing the third fly of the evening
with a pocket book of recipes and a
thirty centimetre ruler stolen
from bathroom **** measuring contests to our knees.

Young professionals tread these boards
and I watch, trying to paint them lotus.

I listen and learn like I was told to do
then clock watch, mop, cycle home to you;
I am still trying to be a lotus
even in wet shoes and no socks.

With less than five-hundred pounds to my various names,
an office-chair-***-clothes-horse, eight USB charging ports
and a future that stretches to Sunday’s last reluctant second,
I am sitting, trying to be lotus figuring out the professional path
David Attenborough heard in his gentleman’s class: that son of a-

- I walked into an army recruitment vault with dreams of being Gulliver,
though was asked to leave out the cat flap cathedral door back into war
as they’d got their laugh and didn’t applaud.

Perhaps I should’ve been better at maths
where apparently a career can be predicted on a scatter graph,
and the pigeons of today were the pigeons of next year and the months that’ll follow the century after that.

I am still trying to figure out the hoo-ha of *******
and ring fingers and collar sizes and the inner circles
of hyenas when the winter solstice splits the seasons.

There is no reason for this lotus procrastination
when what’s there to live for but a crooked world
and one bandage left.
timcsp
Day Sep 2016
you feel everything as deeply as you breathe,
but, honey-
---

To the breathless.
N Aug 2016
girls with buzz cuts singing along
to beach house
the air thick with eccentricity
and anarchy
their painted nails beginning to chip slowly
like the minds of the older folks that are
too engrossed with their holy books

smart mouths and their pretentious words

they make you want to kneel and pray
but you know other things that you would rather
be doing with your hands
like
reaching for your dreams
or punching some guy's face for telling you to
smile, pretty lady

and

boys with long locks crying to
armageddon
the blue sea spilling out from their red eyes
their shirts splattered with distress and
confusion

mostly from people who are built like big boulders
and war tanks

too upset to see one of them crying
but you know other things that you would rather
be doing with your anatomy
like
building homes with pretty gardens
or sewing a dainty dress for your niece
---
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiXWAnCYK7I
---
svdgrl Mar 2016
Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will faithfully execute your role as a citizen in this democracy, and will to the best of your ability, preserve, protect and defend the constitution of the United States?

Do you expect your president to? Your congress?

You don't have to believe in politics because even if you don't
they will still exist.
They will still make decisions that effect your livelihood.
You could move away, sure, but if you lived here long enough,
you're an American.
And wherever you go, they will see you as your country.
They'll hear it when you speak.
You could refuse to preach for a country you're not proud of,
that's fine.
But the grumblings often heard from these masses, the complaints,
the horrified hushed whispers and the disdain,
those shouldn't be uttered either.
Those masses were the students in school who never received awards for participation,
they're embarrassed by their government but have never stepped foot in a polling booth, better yet, never even registered to vote.
I know, because I was one of them.
We know the arguments.
We all fear that our vote wont matter.
I'm part of a generation where it seems that
giving a **** isn't cool anyway.
Dank memes are meant to be liked and not followed up on.
Armchairs are in every home and those who sit in it keep it warm.
But there's more on our heads, guys.
And even more in our hands.
They can blame us left and right for the indifference we practice,
but we'll only justify it in our silence.
Give a ****.
Give two.
Sitting around in echo chambers
only results in deafening noise.
And you can't run away if you can't hear them coming.
And the voices, they sometimes make me sick to my stomach.
but I'm stronger than fear mongered puke.
And though it's "cooler" to bask in your sickness amongst my peers,
It doesn't move anything.
I don't need to know or be a minority personally to know that they're being hunted.
To believe their stories, that have been proven countless times anyway.
And I strongly believe that neither does anyone else.
Bystanding up to the man will result in blame games.
Do something. Even if it's not much.
There's promise out there.
You just have to make an oath to find it.
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