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Graeme Feb 1
Perhaps, once, across vast and prosperous lands of abundance, inhabitants of many great civilizations thrived and cared for the earth they called their own. This was the way. Then, though, cloaked in black and filth, the slim faced invaders emerged from their firm ships, this shifted. The new status quo was to comply with theirs. How dare they punish progress? This would have been preferable had the inhabitants of the land had a choice, at least, but they did not. The foreigners knew this, and strategically sickened their people with disease—how could it have been an accident?—***** them and their land, and plunged their prosperity into the dark. As the years passed, only tales of the past, the former nature of this land, were what remained. Forests fell. The ways and the winds changed. Forts flourished. The foreigners’ descendants believed they needed to form a more perfect union on their land, yet one only they could enjoy. Just like those before, these people reshaped the land they claimed was for community and fueled an empire of capital accumulation and individuality. How could we not? As the centuries counted away from that fateful fall, the agenda of ****** the land and its people and reaping the benefits remained, overtaking that of old. The natives made attempts to stop it, and lessons they were taught. How dare they punish progress? Some listened, realizing the natives deserved rights, so the new status quo was to comply and grant them compensation and rights. Molded by its newest wielders as the seats of the world, it was a model to aspire to. This was the way. Now, across vast and prosperous lands, great civilizations live in abundance with all the things they own. Perhaps.
Written on 2024-11-12.

This is a prose poem written for an English class on creative writing during our poetry unit when we were instructed to write one. Our prompt was to write a single paragraph poem inspired by one we read in class that day. Version 1.0 was written solely with the intent of chronicling the events that occurred across North America over the past few hundred years since the arrival of the Pilgrims from Europe, but this version applies more broadly, depicting core similarities between events that occurred to all areas colonized by European colonial powers. I attempted to give the speaker a neutral perspective, merely observing and commenting on what happened than criticizing and/or glorifying a particular side. I tried to holistically encapsulate the goals of both sides, too, demonstrating how they are near complete opposites in concept. For instance, more capitalist societies egocentrically using the land to yield maximum profit contrasts more socialist societies respecting the land in a more ecocentric manner.

Additionally, when vaguely described in practice, they seem eerily similar. The end is supposed to mirror the beginning as well. More specifically, the tone of the poem is supposed to shift from acceptance to resistance, then back to acceptance one more, as well as from natural to artificial to natural again. A shift from a land that claims people to people that claim land also occurs, signifying the shift from indigenous to European power. The “[p]erhaps” at the beginning signifies the fact that these are stories being told from the perspective of the people at the end of the story—hence why only the final sentence is in the present tense—and that they can’t be certain. It was done to further the mirroring motif included throughout the poem.

The theme of Version 1 was nature, but this version’s theme is progress and its subjectivity depending on which side of conflict is being asked. This highlights that both sides are equally valid, even though they see one another and their ideologies as lesser, even bad.
Francie Lynch Dec 2024
What flies higher and faster than an eagle;
Moves in underwater distances greater than a whale,
And quicker than a shark;
On land, makes the chetah look immobile;
Can burrow deeper, and more effectively than a mole;
Is more powerful than elephant, rhino;
Has a higher perspective than a giraffe;
Presents with more audacity than a monkey;
Yet has the discerning powers of a gnat,
And the future longevity of a fruit fly?
Emma Dec 2024
Silent ruins stand,
Ghosts of a lost world whisper,
Dust cloaks barren dreams.
Graff1980 Nov 2023
I know I won’t be here forever,
and I am just wasting away,
watching politician playing their games,
play acting outrage while preventing change.

There is a no place for my face
that shifts and distorts from the pain
that I am forced to witness over and over again.

I’m not the cleverest
but stating facts makes me feel like
I’m trying to scale Mt. Everest
while screaming against the bitterest winds,
like I am going to have to watch all of my friends
slip off the top and drop nonstop
until our whole civilization ends.

I’m just dressing my heartbreak up in
stark sparkling words meant to
amuse and enlighten all of you,
until the same fate catches up to me to,
and my legacy disintegrates
with the rest of the human race.
Man Aug 2023
Conflagration,
Conflict & confusion.
Consternation,
What comes, and has been.
Condemnation,
Of fact, and of fiction.
Comatose.
One world, many nations
arsonpoet Dec 2022
how is it that i feel this strange way, even though i choose to ignore it, to brush it aside like noise coming from a construction site.
what is this uneasiness, the shaking of my body at the hands of winter?
do i simply choose to ignore it because i consider it insignificant or is it simply that am not brave enough to face the consequences of such thoughts?
these thoughts that are harder to understand than reaching the reefs of the sea.
i occasionally let the sun burn my skin, and let the rain drench my body hoping i would find answers in suffering,
but all it has taught me is too wiser in taking decisions, as i am confronted with a cold later.
how is it that we could be like liquid, formless and shapeless, sinking deeper and understanding every molecule of our existence?
how is it that we align ourselves with the secrets we hold that we ourselves, are not even aware of?
maybe we have always been like this, forbidden from knowing some parts about ourselves.
yet we think we know the world more, when the secrets within us are lost in the dunes of the desert.
this desert doesn’t really have an oasis, because the water dried up a long time ago, when humans didn’t even begin to question themselves.
to be like liquid now, to be free and yet know our deepest selves, maybe all we need is a little rain in this desert?
but the coast is far, and the winds only carry sand silt.
i wonder if this is how a civilization dies.
on understanding the deeper meaning of one's existence and the reason behind their desires.
Golden colours by the river, old and grey 
they sparkle over each side of Bamiyan Valley

Shines and smiles of caves annihilate them
Prior to Monk XuanZang to fabled silk road.
You heard the fire and bombs in the veins of heart’s purr.

They are all stones; one big, another smaller.
It was a Sunday, a pray day and you heard the egos of
screams:  morals! Your eyes and lips ampersand

Dusts and sands persist over 1700 years of Dynasties.
Sculptures of love vanished at Bamiyan valley

Was this loves outcome then, these stones made, red materials                                                 
Addressed with an order of elimination that fires so blindingly?
“Not in vain, not in vain, Shall I look for you again”
The voice of XuanZang transformed his precepts are sound,
“An infinite…XYZ”  with the veins of our eternal love.

Their eyelids say.
The Bamiyan Buddhas appear to have been the work of the Gandhara civilization, showing some Greco-Roman artistic influence in the clinging drape of the robes. Small niches around the statues hosted pilgrims and monks; many of them feature brightly-painted wall and ceiling art illustrating scenes from the life and teachings of the Buddha.
Moss M Jacques Jun 2021
I don't have to do this
But I can't let this escape me.
We don't cave in
And look for a hideaway
We don't capitulate
And let things fade away.
We renew our spirit,
We renew ourselves,
We renew our world.
We rekindle our inalienable desire
To leave free
And to maintain our freedom
Wherever we set foot
And against all odds.
When and where
It is unavoidable
we answer the call to safeguard
Our humanity,
Protect children and women
And fight for peace.
We push all limits to establish civilizations
In the most uncharted territories;
We ***** cities, towns, and states,
We build countries
Across wilderness and unruly seas;
We proudly raise our flags,
Symbol of the greatness of the human mind.
I don't have to do this
But I can't let this escape me.
It must be said in unison:
Let's make poetry great again.
Norman Crane May 2021
what if people had hearts,
and cared for one another deeply,
everyone doing his part
to improve his neighbour's condition completely,
without reward or remuneration,
only love for the entire human population?

what if cows had wings,
and buzzed above abattoirs like bees,
*******—as nectar—the skins
off the bodies of humans, fallen to their knees,
in repentance and commiseration
with the suffering of all living things?
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