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Khoisan Jun 2022
trees are gone
entrance is covered
synthetic lawn,
eager beavers
remember a mother's scorn.
OpenWorldView Oct 2021
independent minds
and critical thinkers
led to the gallows
and burnt on stakes.

but without dissent,
valid or not,
there is no progress,
just stagnation.

life is too easy
and people complacent.
numbed by gimmicks
that steal our time.

a downward spiral
of mediocracy ensues.
all leading to a
tyranny of the few
and ****** revolutions
when their lies collapse.
Anisah Feb 2021
second-rate skies standing solitary
frozen in their own mediocracy
conforming to the wills of majority
because I'm bored out of my mind

fingers tracing the swirls on the ceiling
feels like gravity herself is competing
and all I'm doing is moving, listless
I guess I'm out of time

so maybe I'm a little distracted
like particles of light are refracted
perhaps just a little compacted
from the cages you call fine

living without joy is no policy
so they make it out of complacency
questioning the laws of morality
and answers by design

but I'm reading all the words that aren't written
and suddenly I'm willing to listen
the stardust we're made of will glissten
because freedom I will find.

- Anisah Mariah
Ming Jun 2020
How much you weigh
Is how much you stand up on
How much you are
The weight of your being
Without breath
Without movement
Planting one’s foot against
The ever moving conveyor
But without actually
I found Complacency
What does it mean to be complacent to you?
bcb Mar 2020
I believe there is a certain necessity for persistent re-evaluation of one's self. to allow the psyche to reassess and perceive one's personal growth. are we still exerting energy and resources towards what finds us that betterment upon our inner wealth? this should directly concur with pure candidness; one's ability to balance the acknowledgment of their faults with the appreciation of their prosperity. this aforementioned ideal of persistent re-evaluation corresponds with my argument that complacency is trifling in today's world. though, I mean to mention a prime difference between that of momentary complacency and perpetual complacency. momentary complacency is viable and is, in itself, essential. we must, at times, come to terms and concede for rejoice. perpetual complacency, however, proves to hinder our ability to constructively progress our state of well being. within this argument, my mind wonders to that of this near obsession with improvement and all of the flawed gimmicks that follow. how far can one go? nevertheless, I want to be better. I want to see better. I firmly believe that we could do better.

be well,
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
The language of Los Angeles
gets lost in translation.
Even the rain clouds
drop their contents
with an unfamiliar accent.
The peculiar way
she tilts her head,
the distinct way
she crosses her legs,
are every bit incorrect.
The uninvolved way
she sits, steps, speaks,
alludes to her lack
of the irrepressible nature
surrounding her day.
"The rest is rust
and stardust."

She is quite

There is no turning of the shadow
under a European sun.
The silence of her heart,
the stillness in her limbs,
is barren, muted,
her leaves brittle.
In the breezy part
of the afternoon,
her core lay hollow
and unfelt,
regardless of...
He wakes her,
demurely she makes
an effort at soixante-neuf,
arbitrarily she bends for him.
"Her dream-gray gaze
never flinches."

She is quite
Nothing wrong with being American, this just illustrates the differences in cultural behavior and belief systems.

Inspired by the poem "Wuthering Heights," by fellow HP writer B.
Dried sands of the usual
Lay endless across the horizon
With simple coarseness
And familiarity
This is the life I understand
From the thirst
To the hunger
From the burning heat
This pain was home

And there stands a place that is much more colorful
And what may be a mirage
Of a mind that craves escape
From a dull and painful trek
Felt more and more real

But why am I so uneasy
To drink from the water of the oasis
Is it that I fear that it is poison
Or is it that I fear it isn't
That the soothing
Cutting taste of something better
Might make me unhappy
With what my life has become
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
You save
all your sweetness
for one lousy special day each year

But then
hardly notice her
the other remaining 364 days

Tell me truly
how this is supposed
to ever preserve any kind of love
Jack Torrance Sep 2019
There used to be a fire,
that burned inside of me.
I never had to tend it,
it had always just burned free.

It roared so fiercely,
and burned so ******* bright.
It kept me moving forward,
and broke the darkness with its light.

Then something started changing,
and the light began to dim.
The flames began to lessen,
and they never grew again.

Every day that passed,
the fire was less and less.
And the darkness creeped in,
making my direction a guess.

Then one day it flickered,
guttered, and died.
The darkness consumed me,
and I grew cold inside.

Now I just stumble,
trying to relight my flame.
But I can’t see where I’m going,
all this black looks the same.

I just need a spark,
to rekindle my soul.
And if I can’t find it,
then I’ll never be whole.
A poem about the slow consumption of depression
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