chrysanthos-nicholas
American
I am currently a Junior at Bentley University, not the most likely school to foster a passion for poetry (I'm majoring in managerial economics). To me, poetry is an escape as much as it is a return. It's enabled me to learn about things in such a different light and heightened my sense of empathy in ways I truly believe would be impossible through other mediums. I particularly enjoy spoken word and look to poetry to better myself as a person.
Under marmalade skies
over sands swept whirling,
midst the wind of one night
I learned my Rome was burning
While the flames sneaked higher
I trudged forth like some cattle,
looking onto the horizon
when under my nose
Rome burned in the shadows
Smoke danced to the moon
but first ran through my eyes,
clearing my vision
memories crashed back like the tide
Now under the moon
she was new and enticing,
the way that city smiled at me
was beautiful
but fueled by brevity
like lightning
Quick flashes of maybe
her lips and story made me
see the glass as half full
I bore the weight of that city
under the moon,
now her presence is an obstacle
I used to speak
simply to hear her voice,
but now unprovoked silence
and no chance to make a choice
Under marmalade skies
I learned that Rome was burning,
even as she led me away with smiles
masked fires were churning
Over sand swept whirling
her ashes play through the beac,h
through the rain
through the lightning
shared memories grow deceased
All that's left of my city
is a shell.
and in its grain I see her face,
I throw her into the bay
wishing I found the spark
that made my city now erased
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
Mind over matter
Your mind focused
on the latter
as you tried to climb to the top
with no perception for disaster
They call it high risk options;
sheer prayers for returns.
But all the bits of your brain
didn't care about who burned
Can't slap cuffs on an entity
So I guess it's lesson learned
in their equity
though one finds that the fines
can still burn
Every willing ear
mixed with the
right tone of trust
Acknowledgement in gold
soon traded away to dust
If the brain believes
its body should live forever,
then where's the fear
of a burn when confronted with an ember
so they never think a spark
can elevate higher
ignorance is fuel,
greed sets this structure fire
Man the troops!
The sky is falling!
The city's set ablaze
and the sirens are calling!
We're supposed to save the people,
but the people pay first
save the buildings with
these bails of water
even if the people thirst
New body, same mind.
It's done so many times
one comes to think its rehearsed
The ticket price is high,
the play leaves the people
feeling cursed.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
Grading curves....
Wrongly ruptured neurological nerves.
Condemned by societal hate,
his fluctuating brain synapses tend to create
vicious, malicious and practitious acts
that gravitate to attack the faith
in every church enlisted in every homestead household.
Retaliation puts him in a chokehold.
A headlock, a leglock, a deadlock of the mind
consciousness revoked, the button is broke
vain attempts to find rewind.
Press Pause.
Bask in his murderous glory,
the bodies of the converted; epitome of gory.
Bloodshed because god is dead claimed Nietzche
He kills all his idols and struggles to think freely.
You see the doctors had his mind locked in a cage,
they built the bars since he was at an illiterate stage.
They taught him how to act, then how to think,
a mindless drone choked cause they revoked the power to speak-
toungue in cheek, they'll chop off your arm just to make sure
nothing's hiding up the sleeve
and questioning authority's their biggest pet peeve.
But enough is enough...I CHOOSE WHAT TO BELIEVE...
Drop my textbook, throw my desk, and through those
guidance doors I leave.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC