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Kyle Kulseth Jun 27
The last rays of sunlight were purple
on the day the last fat cat died.
     From the street corners
     we saw them chasing
               their tails,
                        bailing water
          that was rising high.

                    It could never
                      last forever,
               whatever they said--
        --Could we ever have prepared
                     for that Fall?
                Call the Springtime.
          No Rewind of Our Discontent.
                  Meant to seize this
          while their machines stalled.

Look alive. Stay with me...

I wanna be there
          when the missiles drop.
Wanna be there when the pavement cracks
and scoop up the last embers of this city
          while you hold my hand.
I wanna be there
          when illusions fail.
Wanna be there when their smirks turn sour.
When the last of all the fat cats starves.
When they see the passing of their hour.

Look alive. Stay with me...

The last rays of sunlight were splitting
off Their glass towers' cracking panes.
     From the bus stops we
     saw them--their faces
               went grey,
                        flailing Dollars
          could not pad their pains.

                     It could never
                      hold forever,
               this Center they bought.
             But they never did prepare
                        for the end.
                Call the Springtime.
          No Rewind of Our Discontent.
                  Meant to shout it
               but the message sent.

Look alive. Stay with me...

I wanna be there
          when the pavement cracks.
Wanna be there when logistics fail.
And two-step on the cinders of this **** heap
           while the masters wail.
I wanna be there
           when their money burns.
Wanna be there when their neckties squeeze.
When the last of all their bonds will merge
When the fat cats die upon their knees.

Wanna be there when the missiles drop
And scoop up the last embers of this city
               while you hold my hand.

                         Look alive...
Not TOO bad, I don't think for a first piece in a LONG ol' time.
Eva Jun 13
I've fallen before...
Fell into the coldness of a winter night,
and sunk into the chilling shadows of the moon.
I've tripped on the stutter of my words,
and let myself collapse into gloom.
Yet-
I've never fallen in love before.
Never melted in the tenderness of one's heart...
Or drowned in the eyes of love.
I've never understood the feeling...
of how it is
to truly fall.
Erian Rose May 21
Her fears couldn't catch up to
the warm cinders collapsing in darkness
wildfire coursing through her veins
-Goat Apr 28
Nowadays everybody seem lost in their mobiles
Seeing the ones they’re yet to befriend as hostiles
Neglecting what used to be human values
We now even forget about our own statues

Too scared to exchange words with strangers at the park
We forget that nature too used leave a memorable mark
We seem to forget about the world around us, for in our hands we hold an omnipotent device
-carpe diem
Maja Apr 19
A relationship built on lies is bound to collapse.
A lie may travel the world before the truth has even put its shoes on,
but the truth will eventually get on a plane and catch up.
It's inevitable. No matter how long it may take.
Trust is important.
Don't betray it.
Poetic T Apr 12
We thought  we were the rise and fall of the world,
           could we have been more wrong..

I remember an old proverb,


"Control is foolish without batteries,
   because once they run out.

                        Your stuck on
                         one channel,
watching
                 a singular view unchanging
,

Could we mould the world,
like a pottery class we're moulding it  
         thinking we could
            paint it,
kiln it,

and it was perfection..

But we had a malevolent arrogance,
thinking we were saintly,
       all though we thought we were saints.

So boastful of our accomplishments,
           we never looked at the singular crack.
Barley visible to the eye, but there never the less.

After a while we ignored it, as we never
                                                       expected
Our work to falter..

I remember a proverb that paid heed to this.

Discontinuity may be a scratch,
            visually constrained

but protracted in depth. malevolent

Beneath will never show the truth till

                            it collapses within its self
..

Wordy I know, but a truth of now.
         Never paying attention to the scratch
but not seeing the fracture just waiting for that
                                            singular weight to
descend us to the now. So many cracks in the world.

Now no matter our skill the world is just putty,
   remoulding itself with every new day..

A sunrise of reflection,
            Dusk hiding the truth of our folly.

We now live in this new world of our undoing..
           The poetry wheel is fragmentary,
the vase now floating, shifting in the well
we used to mould it with.

And we stare at the
                             sunrise seeing our
vindictive creation...

We are the evil of this world, a creation of arrogance.
Romaisa Abbas Mar 11
Alright, so.
So, does your stance ever break?
Does it ever feel like, there's more to exchange
Than it is, for the while, to take?
Do you then take the leap of faith?
Do you endanger your mind to a strange tenet?
Do you then swither and hesitate,
Get taken aback by doubt nonetheless?
Why on earth did you ever break yourself?
Was it worth it?
I prefer a 🄿🄰🅄🅂🄴 instead.


1. When the exhaustion, confusions, and second-thoughts flood in, close your eyes. Take all your time.

2. Calm the erratic chaos. And allow yourself to 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 the change, if you must.
Maja Mar 10
Don't worry.
I collapse.

It’s alright.
My voice cracks.

I'm okay.
Another tear shapes.

It’s fine.
My heart breaks.
In silence.
Kivanc Nov 2019
Mourning has started since you'd gone
I don't know what to do
In the middle of the people
Losing yourself is too easy
Everything and nothing is same
Everyone I talk remembered me you
What is the question I have to answer
To do not lose you
I'm talking myself so deeply
Maybe I have schizophrenia
My standing against the emotions
Is collapsed in front of you
Oh my impossible love
I'm dying
I want you to be with me again
But I know we can't get together
People won't let us to do
So please go where you want
Please go
I don't want to remember you anymore
Tommy Randell Oct 2019
My guitar is a cyclops with a one-eyed stare
Across the room there leant on a wall
Her heart is a cushion left crushed on the chair
The telephone trembles waiting for a call

The mirror is a mystery of several dimensions
A graphic example of what paranoia can achieve
A well stocked bookcase has the best of intentions
Sundry vinyl dreamings sleeping in their sleeves

The picture frame on the floor is a well into sadness
It's broken glass the echo of something undone
Her face in pieces a confetti of madness
A proof two lives can never become one

At carpet level I can feel the house breathe
I am clinging to it like an Iguana on high alert
I can't hear what the World is trying to tell me
But despite words to the contrary the drugs do work
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