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sunshine 16h
fighting
clawing
scratching
gasping
for whatever glimpse of clean air
when the apocalypse is over
when the bodies outnumber the grains of sand
for whatever rain storm befalls
the rain will take over in waves to
cleanse
dry
redeem
purify
been feeling like
its getting better
but getting worse


xoxo
-sunshine
Fertile flesh conceals the thousands of
Veiny miles, the icy steel constriction,
Flooded networks bathed in numbing fluorescence
And humming machinery
A heartbeat, a death rattle,
Artificial reprieve--
Be born, accept your baptism in the
Drowning neon and suffocating smog
Constructs of your fathers' fathers,
Concrete companions and
Forgotten rusted deities
That with creaking arms outstretched
Fall short of celestial skies

Will they mourn you?

S.R.
March 4, 2013
Missi Oliver Mar 19
Violets in my hair

Whiskey on my breath

Neon letters scrawled across my porcelain chest


Heaven looks so far away


That which makes me envision

Also steals my youth

Like an ancient smoke cloud thieves the mood


In one small stroke

Of my feathered ink pen

I could sign away the future
Tess M Mar 14
just hit my second decade
will it be my last?

are the questions
I ask in uni
worth the breath
I waste on it?

the papers I write,
the presentations I complete,
is anything worth it?

no one knows
Max Southwood Dec 2019
Birthed from the mire
Of pyroclastic grey
Entropy reigns supreme

Cracks in creation
Beckon the thaw
Veins of inferno clean

Ashen rains bury the land
Show where life has once been

Swallow all life
Diminish all light
This is the end of all things
I was watching a documentary about volcanoes, which inspired this apocalyptic poem.
TheScarfIsPurple Dec 2019
I thought it would be just a normal day
seeing the way
clouds drifted across the sky
That is why
I wasn’t prepared
I got scared
when I heard that cry

The entire world screaming as one
Clouds catching on purple fire
blazing into the void of space
Thousand times more scorching
than Hell itself

Seas turning even more poisonous
than they already were
Swallowing lands to feed
the flames above

            Safe to say, there was panic.

Every living creature
in senseless horror
Tearing each other apart
just for a chance
to save themselves

                                     But there is no escape.

In no time
fiery skies and toxic waters
caught them

Devouring
Tormenting
Burning
Drowning

They were fed pleasures and pains
unknown to God
They were shown their innermost thoughts
and they retched in disgust
at the sight of their true selves

Mutilated beyond any recognition
so they could be born anew

Now
they were ready
Now
They were monsters.
Writing practice. Well this went from zero to one hundred fast...
Jon Thenes Sep 2019
This generation knows only darkness
and sleeps on its back

the sleeper windmills violence in upon
it’s own sensory plate
                                       (the turbulence of
                                        fit-fusion
           ­                             and shapeless
                                        mood based dreams)

                
protest whine

offence

a life less of assurance
awaiting instruction

bore
froth
tend
endurance

Days are no fun
played out underground

A Mole baring task-force
A clunder

Muscle beings
reading the darkness

              

Tales held of the higher plane
an existence firm upon the roof terrain

Once a thriving insistence
ocular culture and unpushed air

This is what came to the generation
of post surface availability

              

The Moles are quaked
they raise in hunch
reach out for their boots and tools
begin the awake shift
Notes of The Post Apocalyptic Underground
Justin Aptaker Jul 2019
worlds within
and without are all waning
insatiable
chaos
vacuum
the void
which sat between heavens
heavens splitting the waters
the waters, the weeds
create living geometries

etch-a-sketch drawings
of silent mandalas

now the dreamweaver
lotus
now the lucid unwaking ones
who appear at your bedside
disdaining your closet

while you lie
awake
sleeping
hypnogogically paralyzed
their eyes burning green
freeze your skies
red
as

Christ
comes

you
trapped in misogamy
you
flying through tattered air
you
****** off this oxygen
burned by the stare
of a mirror
Written ca. 2006
Kj Kennedy Jun 2019
Children of the moon
Wait for Cthulhu's return
As they dine on human fear
In hopes he will appear

When The stars align
It will stand with straightened spin  
opening his tired eyes
Followed by the worlds demise

Sleeping in a hole
Far beneath the sea
He delivers horrid scenes
to a chosen fews dreams

Visions of the future
Drowned in smouldered ash
Screams of countless voices
Silenced in a flash

When you look upon his face
A horror to behold
There’s no chance to turn and run
Your soul has turned too cold
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