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Man Feb 13
In between the lines
There's the hint at some opinion
And not just pictures you hang crooked
On flimsy nails you drive.
I'd rather keep the vocabulary
Short & simple,
If there's more from it
Who might be reached
Or that might be derived.

I know you think you're something
Just as much as I,
I know I think you're something
Just as much as I.

If you can't see, you can have mine;
I've already given up on one eye.
If you can't sense it,
I can go on deprived.
To me it makes no difference,
I'm only trying to help.
Come what may, I'll survive.
Graeme Feb 1
I eagerly await another day of attempting to meet new people.
Students amble through our campus, up and down the hill,
Listening to music, staring at the ground, or caught up in their head,
Past a new potential friend: me.

I’ve got my friends, ones of the highest quality,
In the city, just half an hour north of me.
I don’t see them much, though, and I have no way to leave.
We can’t speak much, either; they’ve got jobs and loves and lives.

So, to maximize my social potential, I put myself to work.
I’ve mastered the art and science alike of socializing;
“Use this register”; “smile at this distance”; “speak to listen, don’t wait to talk”.
Studying it all extensively to figure out what’s best.

They’re everywhere, I hear, in the dozens, maybe hundreds.
Folks just like me: trying to overcome the awkward and build a bond.
So where are they all, and why do my paintings remain unseen?
Why do my endless chemistry attempts produce no reaction?

Well, a girl said “hello” in the stairwell as I headed for my dorm.
She smiled, seeming to be one of few to acknowledge my attempts.
Just a friendly gesture, sure, yet I think of it often, her unaware of its value.
I cross paths with many daily, yet I’ve seen no interaction like it since.

I let my confidence carry me toward new opportunities and situations I desire,
Yet, whenever I go to approach them, something nags at me.
A hand that pulls me back; a wall that stops me in my tracks.
It’s Anxiety, and he’s back, worse than ever.

Within this conundrum lies a great irony; a twist that tears at my conscience.
The closer I get to making friends, the tighter Anxiety’s grasp grips me.
“No, what if your words are taken wrong?”. “The bond won’t last.” “...But your eating…”
The reward, even if achieved, seems not to be without caveats, he claims.

He’s right; at a distance, I am safe; nobody can see me struggle to eat,
Yet this sentences me to suffer the animosity of my esophagus in solitude.
I am shielded from criticism, watchful eyes, and the projections of my mind,
Yet I am my most isolated in the most social of the places I’ve ever lived.

So, I eagerly await that new day of attempting to meet new people.
Fellow loners who walk ‘cross pathways, through buildings, and to their dorms.
Cradling their digital safety net in-hand, perhaps fearing what I fear,
Past their new potential friend.
Finished on 2023-09-24.

From my first day at a new university until the end of September 2023, I had very few people to talk to at school, and I did everything I could to fix that. As I did, though, anxiety started to keep me from doing it, and fighting it was a battle in itself. This chronicles how it felt, roughly in chronological order throughout the weeks. Real feelings and anecdotes from my first few weeks are baked in.
Lizzie Bevis Jan 16
When my imagination ignites a wildfire,
you commit my words to the pyre,
but, with every smouldering ember
my vision grows;
Breaking the boundaries
that you imposed,
and within the remnants of my creation,
I openly disregard your blatant damnation.

©️Lizzie Bevis
midnight blue Oct 2024
Haunting me every second
Holding me captive every minute
Caging me every hour
If only I could control my thoughts

Criticizing me every second
Scolding me every minute
Hating me every hour
If only I can minimize my thoughts

Overthinking every second
Keeping me awake every minute
Replaying my mistakes every hour
If only I can shut off my thoughts
I was inspired to write this poem by another poem from a book I read called “Every Last Word” but I wrote about overthinking and negative thinking. Something that I feel like never ends sometimes.
KarmaPolice Sep 2024
You took a sip of my pain,
And mocked your fellow man.
Take the whole bottle-
Let's see if your
Still standing

Man

By Darren Wall ©
Man Jun 2024
Duhhh, brown desert people bad
Durrrrrr, God is wrong

Duhhh, white devils are back
Durrrrrr, people should worship Allah

Don't tell me you people still believe this ****,
I couldn't even imagine being so superstitious.

I wish we could all agree this was myth,
Just something to instill some morals and values to our kids

Duhhh, you sneeze?
Gahhhhhh, bless you
Man May 2024
I have never met a more complacent lot,
Than those of my compatriots;
Never have citizens been more obedient,
Than those of my immediates.
Forget spilled tea, today it's
Watered down coffee.
Biscuits cut with sawdust
Out from smaller & smaller molds,
Eating whatever fed us.
Cause we all know hunger

Believing any narrative pushed so long as it's prevailing;
The populace obsessed with popularity.

It's a headache & a headrush in the states,
Cool if you make the breaks
But that's like hitting the ******* lottery.
You gotta ask, what gives?
What does it take
To get a fair chance to stake a claim
In a country full of people who don't give a ****?
What sense does it even make
To try,
When no one in charge does?

For my own lot, & life -
Whether tis here or afar
Pagan Paul Aug 2023
Have you noticed they are at it again?
Idiocy, insults, back biting and *******.
Infancy in a petulant mood shouting
'cant cook, won't cook, shan't cook'.

And the recipe :-

Take one ex-minister (slightly embittered).
Fold through with a poison pen (neither retractable nor redactable).
Add a pinch or two of smouldering resentment.
Allow to stew and ferment for about 12 weeks.
Then warm through with  an almond glaze of scorn
and liberally spread over several pages of resignation.
Finally wrap in a filou of vellum, and seal.

An ideal meal if you feel that your line manager
really needs a punch filled packed lunch.
And don't forget to garnish and serve with leaks
to the press and media.
Enjoy your meal Prime Minister!

Warning: This recipe contains home truths, scathing criticism,
ambition, nuts, betrayal, regret and crocodile tears.
Ref: Nadine Dorries who finally got around to resigning from the govt. after saying she would many weeks ago. Her resignation letter is scathing of her Tory colleagues and the PM, with a few hometruths being flung at them from her. Its refreshing to hear a politician say the truth, even if born from spite and resentment.
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