Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Hakeem Jenkins Sep 2014
I believe in non believers,
I believe that they believe that science is magic and therefore,
I believe in magic,
Jocelyn Robinson Mar 2014
In case you haven’t realized,
Our society is constantly teeter-tottering on the border between pure brilliance and tragic defeat.
A constant struggle that has left a sour taste on the tip of common tongues and has left this nation burnt out and lazy.

Somewhere along the line,
The sparks inside of people’s bellies trickled out into a dull roar and America decided to give up.
They gave up on prosperity.
They gave up on life.
They gave up on each other.

Somewhere along the line,
The common man concluded that failure was an option and responsibility was irrelevant.
That the only essence of life lied within an 8x10 cubicle,
And it was ok to conform to a system that led us into debt,
A system that led us into war,
And a system that led us into a borderline depression.

Masses decided that indulgence was greater than integrity.
It wasn’t their responsibility to make.
A
Difference.

But, Somewhere along that same bitter line,
The burning flame that is our generation, pushed through the social sidewalk.
We began to walk,
We began to talk,
And we began to show a greater for the future than anyone could have hoped to imagine.

In the midst of a rocky start, we forgot who were.
We masked themselves in Abercrombie and Hollister
To hide the fact that we are something better then a text message,
A clique,
Or Facebook.

It became “uncool” to actually know what you’re talking about.
We filled our sentences with lots of “likes” and “you knows?”
We tend to attach an upward inflection to the end of every declarative sentence.
You know, even if it’s not like and question, you know??

On our own we learned to speak
With
Conviction.

With that conviction,
Hold your own,
Know your name,
And say what you need to say even if it makes your heart pound,
Your hands sweaty.

Simply, because we are the people of tomorrow.
It is our job to fix brainless society.
But it cannot and will not work,
Unless we know what we stand for.

There is no misconception of the work we have cut out for us.
There will be troubled times, there will be tears,
There will be hard work,
And some of us will be lost along the way.

But our story is just unfolding and we have the power to
Change
The
World.

We’ve all heard the skeptic’s tale.
Skeptical teachers,
Skeptical parents,
And nonbelievers.
Raising doubts that we are too young,
That we are too naïve,
And that we’re utterly indifferent and careless to ever be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Well, talk is cheap.
Make no mistake that there is beauty and potential in every
Single.
One of us.
Wake up today knowing that we've made it,
Know that the time has come to start living,
Changing,
But keeping true to our hearts.
epictails Jun 2015
Here's to the ones who loved and just forgot
Broken promises, easy endings, no tying the knot
Perhaps they lost before and that was their shot
Around and around they go, the ever loveless lot

Here's to the ones who never thought a thing
About heavens that soar and angels that sing
Gates up in the clouds and a heavenly king
Smothering the ungodly flames that hell bring

Here's to the ones who are above the rule of order
Steering clear and clever from the symptoms of cancer
Minding, winding their stories into their own favor
Rather than to the social systems they know better

Here's to the ones who are devoid of anything good
Whatever path they lead—will always be misunderstood
The eternal monsters and demons of their neighborhood
Not even the exorcists will save them even if they could

Here's to the ones who look at life with a skeptical screen
Something bad must have happened in between
Distorting their eyes once so pure like crystalline
Soiling them with a reality unmendable and obscene

Here's to every nonbeliever in this world both beautiful and sorry
Believing in their own terms glorious and free,
though rather* **painfully
I'm with the ones who are shoved at the back for their beliefs. I have some pretty liberal and weird beliefs myself. I'd say I am not a conservative person at all so I could look on to their beliefs as an extension of mine.
Shannen Bremner Oct 2012
A kiss from a firefly can cure a cynic of their cynicism, make the nonbelievers believe, help the hopeless grasp the illusions of hope, and even reveal the marvelous maps of the mind; because a kiss from a firefly (and what a brilliant buss it is!) steers one into a sloshy slumber that smears the line between deepest desires and fanciful fairytales:

                                     The feisty fairy fights nymphs, trolls, goblins, terrible ogres, nasty pirates, talking elephants, one gypsy (mainly because she stole some pixie dust in attempt to fly away to her next destination), and two silver cats, who could read her mind and she did not like that; but the plucky pixie never did steer clear from the twinkling glitter-bugs who held the key to Wonderland:

                                                    ­        She drifted off into a slumber and she dreamt of owning all the knowledge that could possibly be held and she dreamt about flying on the back of a dragon and she dreamt about walking on water and tumbling down the rabbit hole and she dreamt of sincere sorcerers and mischievous mermaids and pink penguins who could speak perfect Portuguese and she dreamt about falling in love and being a child again and she dreamt that her father could walk her down the aisle.

Oh, the wonderful whimsical kiss of fireflies killing the beliefs of nonbelievers who dare not dream of dreams, it’s a slippery ***** for those who can’t dilute delusions—a glorious path of the glowing!—leaving them to wake with hopeless hope.
Rachel Eileen Dec 2016
Heat
Calcification
Incalescence
Swelter
Suffocation
Ar­ctic circle above 32 degrees Fahrenheit in December
Leaking lakes of Methane gas in Siberia
Scientific data to price
Changing 2 degrees
has caused *mass extinction

Melting glaciers
Oceans 7 centimeters higher
Drought in the Amazon
Changes in migration
Disruption in pollination
Heatwaves:
high death tolls
Decreased plant growth
Zika in Florida
Ignorance from the government
Refusal of proof
**Nonbelievers in the White House
an angry poem about climate change; including many facts I learned from my Environmental Biology class.  This isn't a political poem, it's a poem of facts and truths.
bucky Oct 2014
you are blood blood blood
hurricanes coming down in the midwest
and all i can think about are your hands
swaying like that on my hips
baby,
keep me like this
choke on my debts
choke on my regrets,
make me feel like a home again, and
maybe i'll let you in someday
baby, keep me like this
i like it when you kiss me
i wanna be yours
Amy McCudden  Jul 2010
C.B.P.M.
Amy McCudden Jul 2010
Densely fogged
under caked make-up from yesterday's tears
fakely disguised beneath the crowd
of masochists and nonbelievers

Hearts plead and bleed as one
based upon no one at all
seething fear pounded through fists of rage
anguish of lost hopes and lost causes

Where do I go
for whom do I show
should I grieve
for a land that is no more than make believe?

Despairing and looking for cheap cigarettes
they gather on their gravelly haven
spurning the world and hating
what it's become
nothing but **** and ***

Those who came before us
naive double standards fearing our new status
the putrid stench of change clings to our chains
burdened by the nonbelievers

Where do I go
for whom do I show
should I make believe
in the world we grieve
Havran Jun 2015
Breathe.
Breathe deep,
and in between
those breaths
bring back
banished beliefs
buried beneath
beyond
broken bonds
and
burnt bliss.

Embers.
Embers everywhere
of emotions
expecting
Elysium’s
elusive embrace.

Roses.
Roses scattering
restlessly;
rarely receiving
reprieve;
reminiscing;
ruing
reproachful ravens
resting
rigidly;
rabidly reaping,
rending
rotten remains,
resenting rainfall
refusing remorse.

Nostalgia.
Nostalgia underneath
neon nightlights;
noticing
nubs,
noises,
nuances;
neither neglecting
nameless
nonbelievers,
nor nurturing
narrow-sighted
naiveté.

Asleep.
Asleep amidst
fleeting azaleas
acknowledging
an abandon
amplifying
already
almighty
affection;
almost
altering
an­cient,
ardent,
adamant
air
as an
ageless art.

Loss.
Loss overpowering;
lost love,
lingering longing,
lasting laments.
Lachrymose lovers
left layers
of a
limited life
within
long-forgotten lore;
lest labeled
Loveless;
left
little
longer
living.

Yearning.
Yearning for
the warmth
of home.
Yesterday,
You
were
yelling
‘YES’
at the top
of your lungs,
and
it
was
enough.
Yet
Yggdrasil
yielded
yew
for years
and years;
young,
yellow yeggs
yanked asunder
Yin
from Yang
into the
ever yonder.

Night-time.
Night-time symphonies
nullify
nothingness;
nourishing
Nyx Nightmother’s
need
of newfound
night-thinkers;
napping
nonchalantly
now,
near,
and nevermore.

~
**D.C.
ross  Sep 2015
Witch Hunt
ross Sep 2015
I used to believe in innocence until I lost it.
Life isn't lonely but I am alone.
I used to be in love and full of love until I cut my chest open and watched butterflies come out then turn to rust.
They say if you're burned at stake, you're a witch, but what are you supposed to do when the nonbelievers finally believe and untie the knots from your stomach but you're still burning alive on the inside?
These thoughts run deep into my brain and down my spine and I'm thinking that maybe if I pull all the content out
and throw it into the lake where all my dead friends are staying afloat, it'll sink to the bottom where my hollow body is stagnant and put out the flame.
How am I supposed to sing the words of life to your songs when I don't even know my own? How selfish.
I am trying to be the bigger man but I am burning to the ground and my time is running out.
You said "there's no such thing as dying from a broken heart."
Well the next day I proved you wrong when I turned that graveyard into a garden.
It's easier said than done when you're not the one screaming into empty jars so your voice is muffled.
At least that's what it feels like.
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2015
When my poems flirts, it can find a way to get into your heart
As it ****** you my audiences it’s becomes imagery and symbolism
The bouncer of the entry way, but somehow waltzes its way into the mind of the nonbelievers: activating the rhythm and rhymes

The language of emotions felt like a prickly face, against my long neck,
Every emotion has its place: like the smell of the bourbon breath
which make my pulse leap and my body tremble
"To dream of lust is to dream of me it whispered, so ecstatic!
Effortlessly, I tried so not to give in to the poetic teaser,

*I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird,
flying even to the clouds of heaven.
I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me,
even though there is no cause for grief,
and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?
Jo Hummel  Apr 2014
Titanic (10w)
Jo Hummel Apr 2014
God* knows I'm a (ship)wreck.

But nonbelievers do not sink.
...I
amongst the nonbelievers
the infidels of your world
know and agree
in one thing
Both worlds
play chess to seek
the ace beneath the board
Adagio for strings
obra of the Devil
Arms to tomorrow
and the existence
of the bloom is
but a remnant
of a child's
conception of
Silence
The crescent moon
wanes with the truth
under the ground
like a forgotten bedtime
story...
Mek
08.02.09
what a waste  Sep 2016
Progress
what a waste Sep 2016
I am the Frankenstein
of my inspirations
A **** poor compilation
of yesterday's explanations
I shave with a meat cleaver
chop liver the nonbelievers
You could never save me
I'm where's Waldo against a backdrop of galaxy sized barber shop lollipops

— The End —