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amy emma Sep 10
Society is powerful.
It is mash-up of ignorance and fear
Everyone assuming the other knows more
Terrified of being outed
But they all know nothing and they bounce their nothingness off of one another and call them “ideas”

We’ve become a people so lazy that we no longer need to think for ourselves
We read headlines & let the suits do the rest
Letting their bias become ours
Letting their agenda become ours
Who can speak for the people if the people don’t speak?
My glasses didn’t use to be this rose-colored
It’s funny what blood will do to things.

Society is powerful.
We all recognize we shouldn’t be ruled by it, so we go to bed cursing it
but the glimmer catches our eye just we drift off
And I wake up kissing the ring.
Isaac Ward Aug 5
It's a-
Rainy day,
A brilliant night!
It's a-
****** life,
A dirt-***** fight!
Give me the knife,
My veins are ready to open wide,
This is my life,
I'll live it like I died.

It's the-
Broken city,
Shredded streets!
It's the-
Bomb blast,
Knocks us from our feet!
Hand me the needle,
I'll sew us up again,
Take back the knife,
This isn't how we end.
Bryn Kennell Jul 8
Oh ugly butterfly
They think less of you

When you were a caterpillar
There was hope
The children caught you
Placed you in a jar
Picked you leaves
And watched you grow

From a cocoon
Sprouted wings
But "oh no"
They were not colorful

The children released you
Just let you go
"Fly away ugly butterfly"
They scream and shout
"We do not love you
for you are not beautiful"
The children did not love him, for he was not beautiful.
You ain’t no good judge of me 
You’re way too much in love with me 
You’re biased eyes they mislead you
You don’t see what’s in front of you 

Don’t put me higher than I am 
**** the angel you think I am 
Adjust your vision to see reality 
Don’t be fooled by my beauty 

I am evil, a ruthless beast 
Don’t forgive me, don’t let me feast 
On you weakness and your care 
I’ll devour it and steal your air
Tizzop Jan 7
all religions share similar values:

a stable family

why, then, are many believers hostile to followers of other religions?
Today is a good day.
God bless you.
Tim Garemore Apr 2019
I've a particular bias
against words that don't conform to the way
that appears beautiful to me

Works that are right-justified
or unjustified
or rhyme too much (or little)
even just using bold or italics

I'm amazed at how I call what I make poems
and therefore myself a poet
and find nearly no pleasure in most poetry
I'm so picky about poems I read yet so unwilling to critically evaluate what I write myself.
False Poets Feb 2018
complexity bias

how you love to criticize my poems
as too long and overly complex

poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting
unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the
intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews

Writing is a **** temptation -
we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90%

perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones
put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking
word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring -

give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is
easily digested and there are no consequences

I am a member of a discriminated-against minority
we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say
hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of
our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied

25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white,
my occupation is playing video games and making sure
my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States
where I was born

there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives
a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts
any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in
my future

this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy,
ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about,
on your way out, of course, of course,
we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden

my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way,
order slowly declines into disorder

my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the
the Herzog continuums
and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my
going, gone under

so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the
requisite taxing authority

you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions

resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length

compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go,
perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
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