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David Bojay May 2015
http://noheartonlymind.com/store/

I came out with a little pdf file book that costs $8, I'm saving up for college and I figured I'd sell 60 poems and some art work to spread my thoughts and ideas.
Mr Silence May 2015
I see the immoral convictions in front of me
do I dear to believe them to be true to me?
This false fantasy has to be inception of mine
or ‘tis just a state of one’s mind to dine...
Anywho, anyhow.
Why does one condone, what is not true
to whom we are to be the truth
but falsely fantasy is also expected of thee.
For we are fools of the school’s tools
the system is rig of this tools
from the schools to the fools;
because we are merely but a rabbit,
hiding from the snake's taste for bait.
Weak and feeble we are!
‘Tis to be true for the youth
and generations come to pass
for we will stay
the way
‘tis.
An old poem I wrote awhile back. Still, working to find some inspiration in work with a little more passion.
Amitav Radiance May 2015
In a café
Rich aroma of
Coffee brew
Morning welcome
Happy faces
Flitting newspaper pages
Reads the world story
Over aromatic coffee
Discuss local happenings
Perfect blend of
World with the neighborhood
Over cups of coffee
Animated discussions
Some ideas may
Change the world
Microcosm will fit
Perfectly in the macrocosm
Small world
Can make a difference
Carly Laskowski May 2015
it seems mundane.
everyday is the same thing. the same schedule.
one would think it would be easier that way. . .
however, I find it absolutely oppressive,
following the same routine all the time.

I want something different, something new.
I want to see the world and explore other cultures.
I want to learn more languages and study foreign art and literature.
I want everyday to be an adventure. . .
not the equivalent of the day before.
May 22, 2015.
Mandee Patterson May 2015
No one person's personality is unique in any way.

If you've at some time been exposed to a television set, a film, a piece of music, a book, a magazine, or people in a closed environment, then you are not in any way, shape, or form an original person.


We are all just composites of the things we've come in contact with during our lives, we pick up the things we think we want, or need and apply them to ourselves, and sometimes it's a sham, and sometimes it feels real.

The only way to be original is to be put out of society the moment you're born, but even then you may take on the characteristics of the wildlife you come in contact with... so apparently you're ****** no matter what.

I suppose what makes a person unique is the way they mash up all the **** that they've been exposed to,
whether they do it in a somewhat original fashion, or if they do it in a way that is similar to those around them.

Societies fear those who do not take the path of least resistance, and those are the people we call "unique", "different", "ugly", "weird", "stupid", "genius", "freak", "amazing", "loser".

They're the attention getters, and those who seek to get attention.

The ones that take the easy road to be accepted, they're the one's outshined,
and they have to get revenge some way, why not talk ****?

I can say though, that I feel real, I don't feel like I'm putting up a front for anyone.
Most days I like who I am, most days I lie, most days I'm honest.

*Circa 2009
Emily L May 2015
I thought...
I would be a scholar.
One who knows too much
about people and the world
but unfortunately,
I was cultured
to be a shock to the system.
So, take good notes.
Ignatius Hosiana May 2015
I want to trend
Not in modern but in the good ancient my friend
I want a candle; candles up an earthen chandelier
I'm tired of the tick tack of the modern switch
I want the moon and stars like life was earlier
I'm done with bulbs which when old start to twitch
I want a type writer to capture what I write in my book
I'm tired of computers where all I do's Facebook
I want to revert to the quiet life of my ancestors
I want the warmth of watching the stars
I want to eat beef steamed in Earthenware
Beef with the touch of smoke and of love and care
I'm tired of the modern meat whose source is never clear
I want a meal served hot on her knees complemented by millet beer
I want a home, a real home with an artful grass thatched house
A traditional home with a hound for me and a cat in case of any Mouse
I'm fed up of the modern roofs which roast as if we're pork
I want an affair that's free of silly social media talk
I want a place she and I can have peaceful evening walks
And her eyes not having to watch out for cars
I want someone simple enough to pride in her scars
Open and proud of her weaknesses,one laughter sincerely chokes
I want someone whose thighs will be warm hidden
Someone who won't dare do the forbidden
Not one who'll go at dusk and return at dawn
I want not a queen for that will make me her pawn
Someone who'll give me a massage,not send me to the parlors
One who's content and natural, not painted in colors
Who’ll together with me do laundry, not a laundry machine
I want someone who'll be contented with the little beard on my chin
I want a life like that of my grand father
Small family, moderate success, a wife who isn't a bother
I want a simple life that will give even my enemies peace
I want Africa; I want a bit of my heritage, just a piece
I want that life frozen in sphinx and sculpture
I want to busk in the glory of African culture
lekhram meena Apr 2015
Why do I need a vile to hide my face
when my emotions are not my own
nobody have any idea about them no can trace
because they're never ever shown

for years I've suffering these blindfolded visuals
I can't figure the importance of my looks and beauty
locked behind the doors of tradition and rituals
in the name of good moral character and duty

still I wear that vile everyday
and my voice is also limited to whispers only
now that vile is whole world to me
because I have learned to live it lonely
They were THOSE people.
those people with their rolled up button-down shirts and blue jeans,
who wore leather lace up shoes that were
too casual for dressy,
but too dressy for casual.
they were those people who referenced music that was
too obscure to be mainstream,
but too mainstream to be obscure.

They were alternative society

It was those peoples,
who thought themselves unlimited in their box of elitism.

They may have been the foam atop the espresso,
but they never could taste the drink.
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