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Falling Up Nov 2023
You are the glass that I poured my heart and soul into
But oh,
you are much more fragile than glass

You are the bomb that I worked carefully to diffuse
But little did I know,
you just released tear gas

You are the salty stories that flow from my eyes
in the middle of the night
Stories of love, joy, and

You are the burning anger I feel in my chest
The feeling pushed down and

You are so much of me
So how can I stand to lose you?
As we stand on ships drifting farther and farther apart on the open sea

The answer is as clear as the glass and as strong as the anger
I can’t stand to lose you
You’re the biggest part of me
It’s difficult
Man Nov 2023
Each emination,
Hot as an inferno.
The breath I let escape
Burns before it boils,
Serpent, tongue coil.
The way you worked me;
Nailed the coffin, spread the soil.
M Sep 2023
Have we all become mere automata
guided by the ring of pings and notifs?
The spray of lather from a sea of data
carrying with it wrung celebrity whiffs
have stung us with a certain aphasia...

The written thought was a lifetime ago
long abandoned by the times and all--
where once there was soundness to follow
nonsense amassed like a rising cymbal
whose crash sent reason to the gallows.

The news of the day presents a delectable entree
of a hodgepodge of this, that, and nothing much.
Wherefore we find our tongues compelled to say
something about the aftertaste or to prejudge
as if we were connoisseurs--it must've hid faraway.

Are we perhaps amusing ourselves to death?
I am by no means a Luddite to such a degree,
but I believe we have bombarded and blessed
ourselves a little too much to see...
only time will tell us reason's final breath.
Inspiration from "Amusing Ourselves to Death" by Neil Postman
Man Aug 2023
Who the ****, and why.
The owner of the eye
Can answer my question,
Whoever it is that's watching;
Stop wasting your time
Draginja Knezi Apr 2021
I mean it
I'm in it
I'm initiating intrusive
I'm bruising

You are
You mean
You are a dream
I mean it
I'm in it
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/5/2019

Sitting on the perch the rooster boasted:
soon the king of swimmers I'll be
and laurel wreath I will get:
Cos the champion of champions I am in this respect!
The hens, excited, clucked in admiration,
small yellow chicks silently listened in awe,
oinking happily were the piglets,
and the ducks? Like crazy they laughed!

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/15/2001
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
annh Jul 2019
Wit when overreached
Is neither as endearing nor amusing
As the antics of a court jester;
But it is infinitely more foolish.

‘The greatest fools are ofttimes more clever than the men who laugh at them.’
- George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords
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