It was a sad thing
To realize
How limited my topics
Of poetry are

Either some embodyment
Or my overflowing
Emotions

Or a strange
Out of the box
Analogy to something I
Learn in school

Or,
Simply a reflection
On the people
Around me
Something I’ve
Observed
In my sheltered
Surroundings

Perhaps
One of the above
Coupled with
Some fantastical
Figment
Of my imagination

But apart from that...

Politics, issues, society
Beyond that which I have
Been exposed to
Plenty,
There’s absolutely
Plenty to write about

Rather than
Simply,
Focusing on my
Own
Centered
Little bubble

I have a convenient little helmet
When the world becomes overwhelming
It offers protection, an atmosphere that takes me to the stratosphere where I can be myself
In my helmet, my bubble I am me, in my bubble I don't need to see the horrors of others
In my bubble, I can be free, see the world in my own colours
When I exit my bubble I put on knee-high boots, a protective safety suit and a good pair of really thick gloves. At my waist, I carry a big revolver that will act as a solver. Because with humans you cannot argue and be nice, cannot talk and make peace.

Be open-minded and admit the possibility
That some things are objectively wrong
We all live in a constant state of gray area

I see you pretty often, maybe once every week or so
For a moment our bubbles come very close to overlapping
But they so far have always held firm
Which is, in one respect, kind of amazing
Yet in another, to be expected

Our bubbles are made of rubber and concrete
Our lives are so different - we’re separated by
Class, gender, age, ethnicity and health history
Different in almost every way you could imagine
Save for location, which again is amazing

If we ever step out of our bubbles one day
And I actually hope we do
It will be uncomfortable, I imagine, and also
Potentially dangerous for both of us
But it could turn out great

Most people ask themselves I guess
Whether it’s worth the risk
And say no and they probably make assumptions
And I so far haven’t made too many about you
Although to make none is impossible and so of that I am proud

Some things might be wrong even if
Everyone does them and even if
You or I do them constantly
Without an ounce of guilt
It’s possible anyway

Is it just me or is it weird
To have been told that standing up for yourself makes you weak
But don’t be pushed around
So you sit in a bubble
making you more of a freak

Splashing around
Droplets of sound
Pranging and cooing
So small and so round!

Watching as a bubble floats,
Sailing boats in spiralling stairs,
Then a...
Pop and a whoosh!!
Stabbed by a bush.
No pointed piercing change in
Lanes of misunderstood would,
They find me kindly or
blindly cane-trace
A
    P
     A
    R
   T
H
Into my name.

mermaid


i was happy,
my soul intoxicated euphorically
i get to talk to you, get to see you smile
my mind
It etched portraits of us
every sadness in me,
my mind ostracised
just by seeing your tall figure.
that one fight, that one fault.
i regret it till this day,
nothing was the same after that,
i wish i could swim away from this,
make you forget,
a tale of mermaid being turned to bubbles,
that's what I imagined.
I hurt you, i disappointed you.
I should turn to sea bubbles, popped when being touched,
soft and harmless,
that way,  i know
I won't hurt you,  
because everytime i try to carress you,
smile definitely paints on your face
i disappear,
but with your smile
captured on my last glance.

- kimin

Lost in an ocean of oblivion
No punctuation
да, нет, что ебать
Sawdmkidroffglibwdble
Words are worms that crawl
Beneath my hands scrawl
Meaning found in places
Aces and empty spaces
You can't begin to envision
My illusions the manipulation
Built on intricate delusions
Could I be awake in sleep
Awake in my sweet
Hallucinations