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Sovit Pokhrel May 2018
A Child
trapped in flesh and bones

A Child
chained in lies,
bound by norms,
trapped in a civilisation.

A child
chained in expectations,
bound by culture,
trapped in a society.

A child
Consumed by fear,
brianwashed and programmed,
trapped in flesh and bones.

A child
peeking through a window
waiting to be free!
waiting to be, just
A child.
deep down inside, the child is crying out in all of us.
screaming for  freedom.
Julian Delia Apr 2018
A mentality
Permanently ingrained, a lack of impartiality
A mentality of one tribe, one leader
Conquerors of all
Watching one denomination rise
As the others fall.

We see this
In our daily lives;
Competition is our focus.
The locus
Of our society
Is the proliferation of one
At the behest of many –
The most popular,
The most fashionable,
The most sought after,
The best of the best.

This ideology
Is a narrow, winding road
Fraught with many perils –
For example, in our education,
There is this infatuation
With the pressure cooker environment.
This toxic affinity
Of the extension into infinity
Of one’s mental ossification
Of the mind’s degradation
As it is appraised
By a system that is based
On the standardised quantification
Of the truthfully divine abilities
Of the human mind.

A system designed to create drones.
It’s basically a free-for-all;
A few get to be called the best
Whilst the rest
Fall through the cracks.
Those who struggle
Are risking getting marginalised
Or at least, probably penalised –
The letter ‘F’ blankly stares back at you,
Its power to grade one’s mental capacity
Wielded like Aaron’s Rod
Borne by those who receive it like the Mark of Cain.

The us vs them attitude
Arises from this system
A point of interest on the same latitude.
We built a world
That conditions in us
Not a spirit of co-operation
But one of aspiring to *******
The prioritisation
Of one person or group deemed fit to rule over all;
Be it a sport, or a work of art
A theory, a criticism,
Or a measurement of the schism
Between one political party and another
It does not matter –
If there is an issue, people will be divided.
Those of us who think outside these parameters
Those who dare look for intelligent, fruitful discussion
Are destined to a life of being given the side-eye
A social concussion.

Why must we compete?
Why is our life replete
Not with community spirit and a betterment of humanity
But with iron-****** regulation
And an inability to concede?
Why must we divide our resources
Not fairly and justly for all
But like a fire that scorches
Consuming all it finds
With no thought for the morrow?

Imagine
7 billion human beings
Not only co-existing
But actively seeking
To be smarter,
To consume less, to work harder
Not on commercialisation or profit
But on travelling farther
In the realm of human creativity,
On sustainable ingenuity
And the wiser administration
Of a planet we inherited.
Always, incessantly
We adhere to our tribe’s superstitions;
Our decisions
Are not exclusively ours
But a result of countless hours
Of indoctrination, of believing in entities
Not morals or principles – in our identities,
We conceive of ourselves as vessels that are imbued with what we consume,
Not with what we are actually made of.

How about
Instead of being sealed off from each other
We realise that it shouldn’t be us vs them
But us vs us –
A moment of introspection
A brutally honest intervention
To give ourselves time to realise
That mindfulness is an exercise
All of us should engage in.

It is easy to exist
Within the frameworks that are provided to us;
The ‘us vs them’ mentality
Is like sandpaper to one’s individuality.
We trim and edit our personality
To fit our group’s motifs.
It is much more difficult
To realise that nobody is going to fight for us
Except for ourselves
And that this fight
Needs to start from within.
All we need to do
Is learn how to say ‘No,
I will not be a part of this –
I will not be a serf to the kings and queens
Who blind your eyes, and steal your dreams.’
WAKE UP.
Simon Leake Sep 2017
This all started as a song,
a song that built identities
then laws and empires,
fuelled by material wealth,
upheld by vague data.
Wherein the song was lost
and here we stand
on the crest of sound wave,
a vertiginous ***** before us
beyond which are better words
than the unfortunate love.
Given pressure and time we find
the impression of a memory
that has its end in a song.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Inside the great
big global village
not everything is rosy
even a cat knows it
a leaf can sniff it.
The Moon shines
not in every night
nor God promised
always a blue sky.
Still the roses bloom
Cinderella has the lot
the reasons to groom.

The richest among the folks
turns philanthropist in the globe.
The wisest among the men
celebrate the era for it’s
the civilisation at its peak.
Hooray what now triumphs at last
is the wisdom and humanity!

Really? O please tell me?
Not very far, nor for much,
just because some differ in faith
mothers and fathers left in pain.
Not because they are to lose
Rohingyan sun nor the land
beneath their feet but in no time
their sons and daughters
can be put to death into fire
that too before their eyes
before the silent established world!
Scarlet McCall May 2017
The wise know where a hero stands--
upon the shoulders of another man.
Or a woman. Truth be told,
there’s more to legends than what we’re sold.
There’s a legion behind every famous one:
Footsoldiers, workers, slogging from sun to sun.
They build the movement that changes history--
collective action—not Him; it’s We.
Or the art, or invention, of ground-breaking power,
from a  “genius” who above us does tower.
His inspiration is the work of others,
connected souls-- sisters and brothers.
Each weaves a strand of the magic thread.
From hundreds of others the genius is fed.
He finishes work with skillful design,
then sometimes falsely claims “it’s mine.”
PF re-post. Idols are fun, but humanity is only successful because of cooperative action.
Tamal Kundu Dec 2016
City
becomes joy,
gathers hope, together
concrete and man spiral, infusing life,
aspirations endless. Continuing journey unfolds
gradually; individuality lost and found and found and lost.
Roots pulsing, always expanding;
slums persisting by negated wealth—
poetry written.
Invoking rain,
civilisation assimilates
~River~
assimilates civilisation.
Rain invoking
written poetry.
Wealth negated by persisting slums
expanding always. Pulsing roots
lost and found and found and lost. Individuality gradually
unfolds journey continuing. Endless aspirations
— life infusing—spiral man and concrete
together; hope gathers.
joy becomes
City.
Form : Palindrome
Nico Reznick Nov 2016
Post-truth.
Post-satire.
Monsters celebrated as saviours.
Wide-open, screaming ******
committed during every ad break.
A dynamic new plan to power the national grid
using snake oil.
Hosts of remote-controlled, cybernetic angels
raining down weapons-grade holy fire.
Eternal peace declared
between Eurasia and Eastasia.
The trenches full up with
poetic corpses.
*** doll mouths breaking
bad news to the bereaved.
The orgiastic scarification
of our own democracies.
Blood sacrifices to the Black Friday Gods.
The enactment of nursery rhyme into law.
The Disneyfication of the human heart.
Love only as legislated.
Hate as currency and
everyone a broker.
Strange, reptile creatures
ballroom dancing through
the sludge-filled annals of imminent history.
Endless war
between Eastasia and Eurasia.
A thousand candles
lit in memory
to all the moths that
burnt to death.
Alienpoet Jul 2016
The hanged man

A satanic symbol
A cup of blood made into wine
The death of the divine
His flesh made into bread
that we eat in silent reverence for the dead
You were made to pay for our sins
But we still live on your grace
A miss shaped agonised face
You are said to be immortal
A portal to heaven
Where we can all live in paradise
We just have to drop our human vice
and be forgiven and believe
But did you die only for a story?
That an apple was picked from a tree
You took a fall for Adam and Eve and all humanity
Or was it just an elaborate con
That our civilisation leans upon
That we are taught that we are inherently evil
Or else we would live, love and forgive
Perhaps the universe understands
that humanity lives on a see saw
one day you're on top, tomorrow you're in free fall
The one gift we have is life
However short
Love each other understand others like you already knew
You don't have to be taught.
Akemi Mar 2016
Black mouths
Running down the walls
They gather here
But no one cares to see them

A dead worm sinks through the crust
And blood wells in

Where? Where? Where?
Shrinking to the bone
Where? Where? Where?
Kafka on the shore
A needle through ego flesh; it escapes like air from a balloon; a pathetic apparition; torn in an Autumn draught

11:05am, March 13th 2016
Sheikh Muizz Sep 2015
When our pens dwindle from our fingers, I am the unbroken sky that we all see
through sheer glass, as flat as the Earth was once believed
that has been deliberately splintered, into neat little windows.

I will take you all back to the first time your womb-woven eyes
relayed indiscriminate shapes in an indiscriminate sight.
A sheer, prime view; the world unbroken
anew.

Following this split, second which we all share
our unique minds, in circumstance’s snare
design our own personal universes, parallel from one another’s.

Look up now and picture what you see
(despite all its details) as an indivisible screen.
If everyone next to you saw the same thing,
you would never want for understanding.
The first line is supposed to be a single, complete line ending with 'what we all see'. Hello Poetry can't format this correctly.
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