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Isaac Oct 20
I just wanna feel something, someone
not just my days all being blended into one
depression, investments, they’re all up
actually, they swallow me up
but in the stomach of existential dread
I feel freer in my head without all these man-made structures
they want to let my rivers run red and leave me to the vultures
it's the culture we live in, who do we reprimand?
who would understand? take me back to ancestral land
devoted to my our sacred place among the ecosystem not trying to oversee them
we are not God, we are not omnipotent
to the creator, we are nothing more than a rodent
which fills its niche, which helps another fill theirs
we are not individuals in a vacuum but complex affairs
Collecting information and writing it down in a journal
People cross by in fear or interest
a human as analytical as a robot and emotional as a puppy
Strange one
Freak
Perfect
Writing it down, each move
Every behavior
Then I get up
ignoring complaints and compliments
And I help them all
hmm not my usual category of poems...
Samara Nov 2020
it's a cosmic correction
     to live a little slower-
        be a little closer,
           live where you are,
              take care of your home-
                  and your home's home.

      To look into each others' eyes-
         no need to fake a smile
           can't see it anyway.
              You can't mask the tears
                      or the smize

           what if it's a hyper alteration
                       to change course
                                 ...
Reminder to heed the lessons of 2020 and Covid-19.
c Feb 2019
Anyone’s a phoenix
Until they lose
Their fire
In the ashes
Of who they were
Anya Oct 2018
I,
Over
Analyse
Over
Strategize
Over
Fantasize
It popped into my head and it's so true.
anon Oct 2017
find my poems
in a hundred years
and analyze them
as though they are written
in a foreign language
from a foreign time
full of foreign ideas
and words

analyze the way i say
i'm sad

"the darkness outside
spills into my empty room
on a body
wracked with sorrow
but too proud to cry"

analyze the idea
that everything i write
means something else
and i am not just
too lazy for prose

interpret me needing to talk
as me creating allusions

say to my face that when i said

"i'm happy"

it was sarcastic irony that reflected
my inner turmoil

analyze my poem
that is free therapy
to mean something
i wrote just for you

it speaks to you because
my word choice
was simple
every day

it speaks to you because
my alliteration is
totally
on purpose

it speaks to you because
literary terms
speak to you
more than some words
that meant

"i'm sad"

analyze me
and look past my struggles
that don't fit your agenda

analyze me

i am poetry

my soul is poured out
in each of these lines
each letter is me

so analyze me
like one of your french girls

make me beautiful

make me something that is
not
desperate poetry

make me you
BSeuss Jul 2017
A child that grows up being bullied, even by teachers, family;
That becomes a tween who is told to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, or go to a hospital;
That becomes a teenager that is told to let go of people and emotions from just recent past;
That becomes a late teen that is told he is responsible for everything that he is going through all in his own self, with no support for his human nature;
That becomes a young adult whom is consistently abandoned because of the pain, trauma and despair he is solely seeking compassion because of;

Becomes a man who appears to be a warrior like machine. Powerful in demenour face to face, with words that will shine light on societies hidden ignorance; also capable of trumping others complacency of injustice in perception, and ending their crusade of fallacy towards disregarding others simple human rights. This man can make a crowd shake with his truth, that has been experienced far from feeble. They can carry a lie for years and have it crushed like an egg when they speak it to him; a intuitive reverse psychologist; vividly fluent in ethical philosophy, cannot be deceived.

Even jigsaw placed a restraining order, and turned himself in to escape.

God may have given him the curse, so he could show the world it could become a blessing.

But the most solid thing that this man becomes, after all the damage leaves him permanently disturbed;
This man becomes sorry.

No one sees him cry.
No more tears for himself;
The world has caused him a functional dysfunction; his only way to stop sudden confusion, is to make a paradox in his head about the situation, and solve it.

His heart wears titanium armour. None the less, does not cry.
His mind is quite damadged,
and no one knows why.
Yet they demonized a child, from the age of five.

And now he is unstoppable; still on the quest the universe had given his hand.

He's a transcendental man.

And he's sorry.
I'll try harder tommorow.
"...just take the week off, please rest"
No.
Silver skin and copper veins
Rusty joints and beta brains
No one thought, I.E. Me
Would get to FEEL differently
My mouth could say the functions
Every thing from meaning to time
To the way airplanes mimic birds
But never could it find those words
And yet with your presence
Your file hidden and bound
A corruption in my databanks
404 Not Found.
I can name you every color
In the spectrum of the light
I cannot seem to find a name
In the coloring of your eye
I cannot name your existence
It's far different than I
I am but a robot
And you are something I cannot describe
How can you compute
Even more than me
Yet still have the essence
To make you want to BE
What ARE you?
What have you done?
You've made me feel frightened
Of what I've become
I know I am not a robot
But that is how I think
So with this Will I have installed
What will become of Me?
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