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Jenny Gordon May 2019
So...pretend I don't care about you, you, you:  


They advertise white dresses now, t'avail
Was it the thought of virgins, in a sense?
Cuz lo, "tomorrow's May! What shall you thence
Wear?--" and what of that--was't a fair detail?
I chanced to pick it out, and's perfect, frail
As every soul's half question, for intents.
His parting comment was, "A white dress...?" Whence
Eh?  And I said "Ya," and wherefore (like's bail).
Cuz when I wondered "what to wear?" That fer
Ne cause seemed sheer perfection.  I ne'er knew,
Save that twas light for Spring, and twas in tour.
I'm sick of Janry's darker tones.  I do
Not want aught Winter shades.  What spirit, poor
As that suggestion, whispered 'non white's hue?

...and write about a momentary distraction--as if you did intend to let me go so easily.
the Sandman Apr 2016
                         in light,
                In blinding light:
Lights on cars; and buildings;
and lit up trees lining lit up streets;
             Houses with sills all lined in gold
And diamond; silver glitter glued onto mould;
Street lamps; and laser pointers; and
Towers; neon lights dotted with flowers
Of plastic sun; hoardings and billboards,
With bright teeth and skin and red words
Everywhere you turn,
Telling you what you want
And never knew you wanted;
Shop windows; chandeliers;
Presents for that time of year;
Cell phone pylons with twinkling,
Bright lights on top, like Christmas trees;
Christmas trees, with stars and angels
Speckled, Frosted,
Dusted on the tops;
Disgusting glare on sunglasses,
And a smiting gaze along the arms;
Bridges and fountains with gold poured on;
Platinum bands in every size, laying all forlorn;
Bedside lamps; and taxis; and taxi stands;
Every window, but the ones
Being jumped off of;
TVs and refrigerators, opened
Thoughtlessly at night;
Screens shooting onto impassive glass
That used to be faces;
Cameras, going off in quick succession,
Quicker than you can keep up;
I'm drowning.
We are taught desire, in light,
We learn to read in light
and scarlet letters of fluorescence
We are blind,
Now that the road is paved for us,
To the light that was before.
Goodbye, jungle of pylons and scrapers of the sky. I will live among your shards no longer.

My first list poem (that actually remained a list poem by the time I was done with it)
Ena Alysopriono Nov 2014
This world
Is not the world our grandparents lived in
We are less connected with the natural world
Separated by televisions and computers
People who spend their lives online
Distracted by flashy adverstisements
Bombarded by commercials
Telling you why you aren't good enough
Or your life isn't easy enough
And how they can make you look better
Feel better
Be smarter
Have an easier time getting places
And doing things with less effort
We forget that how we look
And our intelligence
Might just be good enough
For you and the people around you
We need to take a break from all the consumerism
And reconnect with ourselves
And each other
To become human again
Watching tv so....
Rachel Lyle Aug 2014
Violently, I grow rather feared
of the world that surrounds.
Influences of prefabricated
culture unleashed upon little men.

It takes me as a *******
with polio or such;
that sickness you were carrier to
but never knowing as much.

Worst of all,
now we all walk with a limp.
We are willingly main course
to combustible fears, self-loating, and doubt.

Neediness for love
is fueling our masses.
Who now, will be our Pheonix
to rise from the ashes?
Inspired by a Frontline program on social media and advertising.

— The End —