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  Oct 2019 Carter aunders
JP Goss
They came into this world
Starving, pathetic, and in need of work
Computer beings seeking profit,
We called them millennials and,
Like bacilli to honey,
They will eat themselves to death;
I’ll be waiting with an open casket.
When the time comes,
Issued as both punishment and reward,
Fitted just for lazy things,
And it shall be translucent,
As all human desires are
An empty display
Of material just as ubiquitous.
I’ll be the funeral director,
Engorged by suffering,
When the time comes
I’ll be waiting with an open casket.
The skin that does not bleed
When struck, requires only a few
Strikes more,
The arms which do not tire
When pushed, require only a few
More loads,
The will that does not break
When overburdened, requires only a few
Lashes more—
When the time comes
I’ll be waiting with an open casket
And let the ocean, in pacificity
Carry them to the collective
Dead of this world, to churn in anonymity
For eternity; a true hell to the ego,
I’ll be waiting with an open casket
Just to send it off with a nudge.
  Sep 2019 Carter aunders
Cora
all i want from this world
is to love the people in it
and to be loved sometimes
it doesn't have to be beautiful people
or a pure love
i'll take the messy, ugly kind
one that will match mine
  Sep 2019 Carter aunders
Empire
Sorrow floods my eyes tonight
Streams into every pore
It cannot be contained
For the depths of compassion
The depths of love
Propel forth the immense wave

My body shakes with anxiety
My breaths come quick and shallow
Because I believe you
When you say you’d do it
You’d end your life
You’re not well, my dear friend
And I know I can’t help you

You’re breaking my heart...
I know you don’t mean to
It’s simply a side effect
Of allowing myself to care
So wholeheartedly
So completely

And now

The sorrow
The dread
The pain
The concern
The tears
The tragedy
The calamity
The grief
The new marks
The old marks...


Have left me

Overwhelmed
Maybe the wine will help... probably not enough...
The building they lived in,
called home,
became their tomb,
became the weapon that broke
their bone,
took their lives.

But their stories have to
survive,
This City won't let you forget
about those
you were meant to protect.

I was actually looking for a room
but found myself
on the fiery streets
CRS batting the flames
as politicians took their seats,
business as usual
but the people stood in refusal
Feminists Familes and BlackBlok
Yellow Jackets Housing Groups
round the clock
only the holiday period
could douse the fires
and I went back to mother
the pressure smothered

How long is your attention?
Remember: this is a poem for the dead

For those who were crushed as they slept in their bed

Merry ******* Christmas
instead.
About 6 people who lost their lives in Marseille last November, 2018.

Shoddy building inspection, owners and regulation.

No one has taken responsibly.

Rest in Rage
We carry with us our memories and our scars,
strewn across our beings like the clear night is, with stars
and like sailors in the wilderness, they give us a sense of who we are,
which direction we are going, where we came from and how far.

Drops in the ocean, we reach out for our anchor,
that thread that ties us to ourselves, our idioms and our rancour
but when the storm clouds gather on the night of the new moon
I tie myself to the mast, submissive to the jostling gloom.

I catch a glimpse through Lightning bolts, the darks fiery reprieve,
those scarry looming shadows of all the souls whom had to leave,
I'm stunned, abandoned to the whim of whipping waves,
on the tide of all those memories that have formed how I behave.

This is my new scar, but it's not one bourne from pain,
it's one that can sense the morning after midnight's rampant rain,
a mountain emerging from the ocean, to make it's mark in air,
before the wind comes round a-roaring and sinks it without a care.
A sunrises itches towards the horizon
the beholder begs bygones
for this day to be different
to change
anything new feels unbearably strange
i can only
scratch
the frustration
that bubbles to rage
each ray of light
becomes
a bar in the cage
all i feel
is the craving
& desire
in my face

The sunset reveals true being
the beholder starts fleeing
i can't bear to confront it
my soul
i'd rather chase the horizon and see where it goes
get lost
in the spectrum
as clouds turn
rose gold
as the colours
delve deeper
the world
becomes
cold
but i'm sweating
and shifting
my bones
growing old
****** ****** I've seen the back of it so many times but the world keeps on spinning and it's always back in front of me again..
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