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Zywa Jun 15
Your despair against

my hope, nose to nose, only --

a door in between.
After a rejected asylum application
Film "Die middag" ("That afternoon", 2023, Nafiss Nia)

Collection "Between where"
Zywa May 24
Here too, policemen

coming to deport me to --

a death of torture.
After a rejected asylum application

Film "Die middag" ("That afternoon", 2023, Nafiss Nia)

Collection "Between where"
Jay M Nov 2021
Days drag on and on
As they suffer within the blank walls
Given “care” and “aid”
Only to be harmed
No authority quite alarmed
Any sanity that was, since gone
Staggering those halls
The iron fists they forcefully obeyed

- Jay M
November 5th, 2021
About asylum patients and the mistreatment they faced back in the day. Written for my Creative Writing class.
Yenson Aug 2021
Saw the bean pole and its roots
arguing outdoor with two oppressors
bean pole treated unfavourably
its on foreign soil doused in free milk
but reminded
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Saw the bean pole housed
in nursery and greenhouse to propagate
now rooted anew its given nutrients
but it must do as ordered
for no matter what
its just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Saw bean pole growing tendrils
leaves unfold green to catch sunshine
but now a puppet amongst others
who bend and shape at will
bean pole see that plant next to you
its taking your nutrients away
go block its sun
do as we say or else
just remember you're just another crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias

Bean pole will grow and bear fruits
on foreign soil there's milk and honey
but for as long as the sun shines
the chains and barbs will hold
bean pole is just a stick
carrying tendrils to grow the beans
eaten by those of the land
who to them will always be  
just another border crosser
from a rubber dinghy from Calias
Ziv Feb 2021
Countless times I’ve spent pouring out kerosene
in the form of words,
attempting to lessen the flames roaring inside
but only fueling them in the process.
You seem to be the only one that will listen;
then again how could you protest?
It’s a relationship that’s hardly symbiotic.

I’ve learned that most times I am the lit match
igniting a room full of fumes,
tearing down the walls around me as quickly as I built them.
I am the one scorching the palms of those who seek comfort
and searing the tongues of those who offer it.

So go,
stay far away from the flames,
and know, that soon I’ll burn up all I have,
Maybe then I won’t be a threat anymore.
Thomas W Case Feb 2021
Let's all go
to Damnation Island.
Let's all go to
the lunatic's ball.
We'll  have
amusements, and
dancing, and the
magic lantern.
The stupefaction
is for us all.

The poor will
be there,
and tired.
The poor will
be there,
dresses in rags.
We'll all have fun
on  Damnation Island.
The degradation is
for us all.

The criminals
are on
Damnation Island.
They're dancing and
killing at the
lunatic's ball.
The criminals love
Damnation Island.
The mortification is
for us all.

If you go to
Damnation Island,
if you dance at
the lunatics ball,
you might stay on
Damnation Island,
there's a good chance
you'll sell
your soul
Norman Crane Oct 2020
Let's lose our minds amongst the olive trees
Labyrinth of oiled imagination
Twirl like falling leaves / falling to our knees
in unbalanced joy and veneration
of ourselves. For there is nobody else
but us; there is no other time but now,
Red flowers bloom. A blue shadow propels
a still landscape into being somehow
fluid. Timelessly we swim, wet within
each brush stroke branch and painted wave of wild
emancipation—to forget the din
of the wretched asylum. Vincent smiled:
Dive too deep and you shall go insane,
The olive grove remains the other side of the pane.
Inspired by Vincent van Gogh's painting of the same name.
Jordan Gee Aug 2020
my heart is on fire
one half cup espresso, a vape
and a song that drapes my heart in a purple fire,
with the same purple glow inside the go go bar
where that dancer handed Bukowski a dried lily
But only for a moment.

lesson #104 and the
music rides a sine wave into
my left ear.
I sat upon a lotus pad and kept
a straight back
the Angelus Novus couldn’t (insert link)
close its wings against
the winds of Paradise so
elated were the Gods by the
progress of man.
so high the rubble of the wreckage the
view from its summit rivaled the
vantage gained from
standing atop the Six Grandfathers within the
Four-headed Dog from across the pond.

national broadcast in the jungle and
all the box would do is
and all the cockroaches would do is
and all the machetes would do is
and all the bodies burned
and Felicien Kabuga was kindly granted asylum by the West
and remained at large for over 25 years.
(insert link)
may all the kings be strangled with the entrails of all the priests
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