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Anya Dec 2018
Rules,
Superficial rules we create
We confine ourselves within boxes
Answering a desperate plea for order
Some semblance of control, of understanding,
Shape, within shapeless mass, shapeless space
We build cages, chains, interlocked, intertwined

Yet, a common phrase
“Think outside of the box”
We acknowledge,
This cage
And in many cases it can be good
But we also acknowledge,
That to truly come up with something great, unique, to leave a
Lasting mark
One must think outside of the box left behind by our predecessor’s
Thoughts outside of their box
Which form our box

It’s like

Understand how to read notes
Before you compose your own

Know the color wheel
Before you experiment

Read books,
Before your write one

Maybe that’s where successful people come from,
People who manage to learn about their box
Well, before they manage to
Break it’s boundaries

And each minute, each second, each millisecond, each
This is happening again, and again
Our cages being broken
Reforged, anew

And through the internet, the media, mordern communications
Knowledge of this new box, these new boundaries
Can be spread

To pique another child or adult’s interest
Until the boundaries are broken
Once again
A cycle
On repeat

Until finally-



Or,
Is it like the universe,
Ever expanding,
Infinitely large
Without an end?
Arcassin B Dec 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Praying to the most high , you know that is the way,
Can't look for a way around it , find another way,
Pushing all the boundaries , girl you know you better slay,
Some people give a lot more and the others take,
Gotta be outside the box,
That is the way.
Looking for the upside down,
Ready for the chase.
If plan B does not succeed then go back to plan A,
Soul is trapped in limbo , let it find it's traits,
Say the **** grace , you better clean the plate,
But praying to the mosthigh , is the only way,
Gotta be outside the box,
That is the way.
Looking for the upside down,
Ready for the chase...
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/12/indie-part-d.html
The zeros and ones, all the zeros and ones
It is time to dive in to some binary fun
Just the zeros and ones, all the zeros and ones
We're not ready for this
But too late
It's begun...

In this game that we play
There's no way can be won
And no doubt that someday
All mankind is outdone
But "no way" they will say
"Just relax and have fun"
'Cause there's always a way
Not the absolute 'none'

Good luck never can stay
Of the minimum one
An anomaly may
Find a way to outrun
All the safeguards in place
What you spin is now spun
This new enemy faced
Can't be beat with a gun

Giving birth to a race
Artificially one
That's not from outer space
People smart are now dumb
We can't keep up the pace
So we will be outrun
Relegated to slaves
Or perhaps we're just "done"

Nothing more than a waste
Have a purpose that's 'none'
Masses taking up space
Can not hide or outrun
Destined to be erased
Yet somehow we're still stunned
Ending the human race
For A.I. has now won
Written: November 9, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Tetrameter format]
Abdulrhman Dec 2018
deep into
my chest

big box
of love

made of
glass and stars

Written on it

see
through me
feel
through me

but don't use me
don't
Jodie-Elaine Nov 2018
The day after my childhood self wouldn't leave the old house and cupboards, I sat in the dark with my boxes and these pretend grown-up versions of myself.
I'm losing my favourite memory, I cant find the right side of paper but I will always flip the page. I know I am stuck. Still seeing the image of your skirts disappearing around old pine door frames, try to run after the hem to ask you where I left the right box. Can't even find the words to ask.
Sometimes the last thing we ever get to say is “goodbye, old house”, we don't always get a chance to kiss it on the cheek before we leave.
That nothing we lost once was inside you the whole time.
I remember the private hospital rooms, we know that for that much money you have to switch of the part of you that won't stop dying.
You still visit.
You still visit in the form of robins following me home, of ghosts enclosed whispering in a space reserved,
breath suspended in mid air,
the very last one.
I made a room of ghosts for you.
And if I could have stopped time
I would have paused it in the middle of this room.

Open the yellow memory box one last time.
Snippets of foundation year spoken word typed out. Themes: collection, loss, memory, home, moving house
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Ancestral riches
In ancient jewelbox,night,
No one would swindle!
c Nov 2018
Mom says
I should call it what it is.
A scarf, cologne,
A movie ticket.
But instead
I boxed up our first date.
And burned it.
Anya Nov 2018
I'm a little
-
scared

To open up that
box

That desire
A never dulling     -
fire

How to keep it-
at bay

The desire to       excel      exceed        
Ambition

A calm,
avoidance
denial
SO
   Much
         easier
But,
Should           I
Open this





Pandora's
        box?
Lewis Irwin Oct 2018
The thoughts of suicide riddle my brain,
They're around all corners of every word I say.
Every thought I think or memory I look back,
The symbiote of suicide leaks out of every crack.

Writing and romanticising all my bad habits isn't smart,
But it's the sacrifice I make to make sacrificial art.
There's beauty in trapping myself in a box of sadness and doubt,
Walls made of paper; so maybe I can write myself out.

As unhealthy and sordid as it may be,
I find self-solitary to bring out the best in me.
As unstable and morbid as it may seem,
I find thoughts of suicide to bring out the best in me.
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