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Anais Vionet Mar 18
Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss
Inspired by Kurt Philip Behm‘s poem “Shiloh.”
Svode Mar 2022
I feel like Christian Bale
in that one movie
"Am I... the American ******?"

the emic and etic personas
collapse in pantomime
like how the Donald destroyed democracy and civil rights for four years.

I feel like the average citizen
who has no choice but to vote
so that I don't get deported once again
Wilkes Arnold Aug 2021
Lincoln died today
He hustled to an early grave
After patience bore the pain of hell
One final bullet to his dismay
Robbed him of the end he craved
Not of time or the sullen knell
But the kiss of a dagger in his worn hand
A battle lost and a battle won
A perdition purged a new ring rung
He's left this hollowed land
Consecrated by blood and gun
And travels now to songs unsung
Orion Rosemary May 2021
I'm just trying to live my life
Like any other human being
I get on the bus, sit on the guys side
I go through my day-to-day

I get called down to the office
I'm told I have to sit on the girls side because I'm in the system as a girl
I tell him I'm not a girl and the heteronormative system is ridiculous
I didn't do anything wrong and sit by myself anyways

He says he will see what he can do
In the hallway not long after, after school ends, going down stairs
I group of kids scream near my ears
I mumble to myself and they touch my head

I said stop
They didn't stop
I turned around
And for the first time in my life I lower myself to violence
And punch one in the leg

I break down
I'm lucky to work with such wonderful people in theatre
I just want to live my life
I just want to be left and not harassed

Im told I can sit on the boys side
I have to sit alone
I can only sit in the front or back
I have to tell the stranger next to me he can't sit there

I want to tell him why
I don't want to out myself
I have to give up the ounce of validation of being treated like a normal guy on the bus by the other guys, who are unafraid to get in trouble for sitting with me cause they don't know what I am or care

I wish...
I wish I was born right just like he and every other guy on the bus

But if I was I would not be me.

I could not understand my own struggles
Or sympathize so much with others

I could not learn and adapt the way I do now
Could not have taught myself to be brave in the same way I am

I could not have the experience of having kids with my spouse the way I want to

I would not have needed to stand up for my rights or that of others

I would not have addresssed my lack of understanding and my internalized transphobia

I am stronger for who and what I am.
My gestalt.
For learning to come to terms with the harsh truths of what I am to the world.

If that wish came true, I would not be me. I would not be
Orion.
An improv prompt from my theatre teacher/director. My group decided to do a funny skit but I wanted to answer it in a heartfelt way on my own separately.
Man Mar 2021
how many protests have you watched now?
how many devolving into riots?
via violent actors, on either side
what was gained, for those we lost?
was it in vain?
did the pay outweigh the cost?
or was our venture defunct?
would civil disobedience had been better sought?
or a more brutal insurrection,
to rival those we've been taught?
just do like they'd wish
and lay down and die
Joel M Frye Jan 2021
...and so it begins,
rural against urban,
rich against poor,
change against established,
white against black,
privilege against opportunity,
proud boys against military,
prostitution against dictatorship,
both sides digging in
turning trenches to graves...

and so it never ended
Been watching CNN and Fox News, believing the truth lies somewhere in the middle.  There is no middle right now.
Joshua Phelps Nov 2020
There’s a fire on top of the rooftops,
Bombs are falling from planes nearby,
people are scrambling for cover,
And help is M.I.A.

Debris falls all around us,
Bricks tumble, our hearts fumble.

We ask ourselves: Will we make it out alive?

We fear for our lives,
We fear for our families,
But the enemy doesn’t care.

We’re gonna need more than a prayer
To get through this hell
that is World War III.

We know there’s no time to wait,
We have to keep going,
Or we may be another target,
Another casualty
of heartbreak.

As we hear the surrounding screams,
We dare not look back,
As the enemy closes in around us

The sounds of gunshots
Bounce off the walls,
And one by one, the loved ones around us,
like dominoes, take the fall.

We dodge, we duck
For cover.

They shoot, fire,
And another casualty
Another loved one
lost.

Our hearts beat faster and faster,
As our hopes of survival are quashed.

Adrenaline courses in our veins,
And time starts to slow down.

We begin to wonder
And ask ourselves once more:
Will we make it out of this hell?

We didn’t ask for this.
We didn’t want this war.

But here we are,
fighting just to survive.

We don’t eat, and we don’t sleep,
All we do is run away
And hope we live to see another night.
This poem is loosely based on collective wars going in the world. The Syrian civil war was the main source of inspiration for this submission. More information about the war can be found here: https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2020/country-chapters/syria
Megan Sep 2020
Poisoned eyes, mesmerized
By broken lies
Capitalized, magnified
In order to poison, eyes
We compromise, all this time
Repeating broken lies
Capitalized, magnified
In order to poison, eyes
Inspired by Guns 'n' Roses song called 'Civil War'
"History hides the lies of our civil wars"
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