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World of sinners
filled with killers
dream crushers and
heart breakers

Lived with lies
no mercy
of children's cries

The heavens whimper
hearts  locked forever
in an obsidian cage
forever to be undiscoverd

This is earth
the world of humankind
Politics and Religion
bear in mind
stop the crisis
while we still have the time
Just bored again
Laying in the lawn
On a boring day
Looking up at the plain blue
"How unimaginative"

I throw the little knife into the air
To see where it lands
Merwin Nikad Oct 7
Its been a day
One of those gray
Boring
Days
A day where the rest
Doesnt feel needed
And the taste in your mouth
Of misery and doubt
Doesnt leave
Its been one of those days
Where every word you write
Every word you hear
Every word you read
Is just mush
Gray soggy mush
And everything that you love
Is faded
Unenjoyable
Boring
Its been one of those days
Where want and need
Are one in the same
And the lack of everything
Drills in your skull
Pounding
Knocking away
Reminding you of your prison
Of how you're trapped
Until the next day
Or the next
Its like you're always looking forward
To the next big thing in your life
But sometimes you stop
And lay down
And the whole world turns gray
And theres nothing you can do
So you wait
Until the next big moment
Then you do it all over again
Jann Flach Oct 4
How amazing it is to find someone
who wants to hear about all the
Things that go on in your head

I think about dying,but i don‘t want to die,
Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite, i want to live, and i want to escape. I feel trapped, bored and claustrophobic.

There is so much to do and so much to see, but i somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. Im still here in the metaphorical bubble of existence and i can‘t quite figure out what the **** i’m doing or how to get out of it.
During the pensive seasons of Spring,
I felt rotten, as if a puck of ghouls
splashed their bitten sheets on me…
Sometimes, if my mind is playing tricks,

The piercing pink heaven will sing
Of honey anti-love that bites the
Soft drumming of jelly like me,
Who dance in the waves of instability.

My imaginary friends will scream on anchored sailboats
Coming back, shouting, "There! From the distance,
we travelled with Trouble up our shirt-sleeves,
And notice, they are quite unlike any other…”

I welcome them, the fairy-tale stray-people
The deluded and lonely, what are they doing here?
We only sleep when the sun stops, but curse Beauty! I say
That sun, what embers brighten your linear touch?

What heroes can beseech the crown of Love?
We bring them to the centres of the earth,
But there it’s empty, there spring wed-diamonds folds the earth
And silhouettes dance on our *****-land bodies.

I know what bitterness I hold inside me, so I crawl  
Inside corruption, let myself choke,
into my comfortable dwellings of my modard youth,
It is sad to hate it. Let the men **** on my shame,

Let me highlight mortality in a word
That death near touched me through a veil,
With a bicker finger-point to my delirium-brain
That death seems a golden merriment, except

In night-time I will continue to rot,
In angst, in mourning, in ****’s sweet wit
That I will soon die than have perfection kiss me
With a bow, I wish to leave, it’s time to turn to Love

I told them instead to set these verses, &
Sing all they want, to the azure chorus of Spring
And to keep recklessness in your pocket,
We are lucky, to have Love bleed under our skin.
Part 1 of a Cantos of hallucinatory experiences and journeys with my fantasies and reality.
Aaron LaLux Sep 24
Can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg,

which came first,
the Chicken or the Egg,
which came first,
the bliss or this pain,

whatever never mind,
who cares anyways,
because the real question is,
who cares anyways,

who cares anyways?

These days most are too inattentive to pay attention,
too unobservant to deserve my service so they’re only purpose is to be subservient,
too distracted by everything expect the instance that they’re in,
don’t even have the strength to concentrate for the length of an entire sentence,

can’t focus on this moment,
when in fact that’s all we ever have,
so really if we don’t hold the moment we hold nothing,
guess is why I only wrote this poem to remind us of that,

as I lay here in this bed,
with so many thought crowding my head,
that I have no room inside my head for Z’s,
can’t sleep I’m wide awake again,

can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg…

∆ LaLux ∆
Fxrz Ramirez Sep 24
I sing from the soul no matter how it sounds
Fumbling over words like spontaneous poetry scribbled down
I like acting on impulse, especially on lazy days without plans
I dont have to leave the comfort of my own bed, but I'd probably leave it unmade.. Go lay on the beach and get covered in sand
Stare at the waves anticipating the the good things to come
Like coffee on on short overcast rainy days, or long summer nights out having fun
Saint Audrey Sep 21
Everything will fade away
Eventually
But I'll still be staying here
In my crumbling dream

Nothing for this ache
Ironically
Bright against the light of day
The centerpiece

For the first time, in a long time
For the very first time...

Vacate every side in space
Ironically
One last chance that we could take
Anarchy

Moth writhing in the flames
Never meant to be
Drawn up to the ledge I found
waking soulless sleep

For the first time, in a long time
Maybe for the the last time...

Take a deep breath
Sort out your answers
Take off the mask
Look through your own eyes, again
Take a deep breath
Brace for impact
T McGilberry Sep 19
X
A poet society,
I write life not anxiety..

These permanent words,
On impermanent feelings..

Like seeds,
Begin hard..
Needing proper soil and water,
Solar energy for the bloom.

I write these words so you may know,
We too feel the same..
Even if unspoken.

And if we disagree,
Find another poet to light your Christmas tree..
Or at least heed my perspective as I did yours.

My mind travels full circle,
Only to express what is in the center of me..
Or slightly off.

Wherever you can find heart.

All hearts are not created equal.
Forgive me..

All hearts are created equal,
Yet some will grow while others shrivel..
Similar to the mind.

What separates us from the trees is we can always choose our source,

Always..

Anyone who tells you differently,
Walk away swiftly..

Hopefully one day they may free themselves,
From their own self imposed prison.

Too many sit behind closed doors,
Not knowing they need no key for the lock..
Half the time we don't even need a clock.

Waiting for that certain moment...

If you're waiting,
You may keep waiting..

There is a difference from being persistently patient.

If you're moving forward I adore you..
Leave a mark so I know we've shared the same path.

These writings are my X for the next,

Traveling through these caves of life..

As we defer deaths draft.
i wrote a book called Too Much Water Will **** The Flower. i hope you read it, love it, and add it to your collection of the best books ever written. it should be out this month or early october on amazon but if you're really interested pm me and i'll email it to you. if you're a prisoner of your mind please set yourself free
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