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Evie Helen Jan 2
My cognitive
Won’t make any
Because his
Rotted all of my
His self assured
Expired my
And no impotent,
Can unbalance this
I was inspired to write this one because there’s a song I like called cognitive dissonance and I wanted to see how many ‘ce’ words I could find to describe how I feel.
eleanor prince Jun 2023
some days I grieve alone
as sunshine sounds obscene
no help or match for rain
not caring where it goes
to leave a chequered scene

the clouds hide their intent
build-up to manic heights
and storms attack our land
to savage crumbling shores
and saturate the nights

I stare in broken starts
I've seen too much that stings
with stoic eyes some pray
and mop the mud-soaked rooms
we wish our homes had wings
i hold a shaky palmful of death
noting that it is surprisingly light

i swallow reflexively
feeling shocks through my hand

i could just do it
i could just do it right now and it would all be over

why don't i do it

my body, fighting to survive
my brain, begging to die
and i am no man's land
AE Dec 2020
In the fabric of time exists
moonlit seas of happenstance
and rose-scented memories
sewed in with golden beads
but it seems to me that life has found a way,
to sew in worn-out frayed threads,
that have lost their silky reflection

yet you,
with your resilient skin
found a way to make
embroidered mosaics of colour
out of the dissonance between good and bad
Kelly Mistry Oct 2020

Filling in the fissures that have opened up
Between us
Within us

Fissures can become canyons
Sometimes suddenly
With a great roar of sound and cloud of dust
Sometimes gradually
Worn away by a river of neglect and dismissal

Both sides carry these fissures within
Wounds that can fester

How do we close these gaps?
Between us
Within us

First both must see
Desire to heal

But there are no guarantees

Rebuilding relationships
Righting wrongs
Seeking and offering forgiveness

None of this can be done alone
Without community
In a vacuum

Sometimes the fissures become scars
Calcified and brittle
Painful when poked but otherwise unnoticed

The wound may heal over
But the fissure may never
Kelly Mistry Aug 2020
As I approach the edge
Of awareness
Danger flashes!
A veil of flame
You risk burning fingers here

Crushed by the weight of the past

Once invisible worlds that shimmer
Just out of focus
Beyond the veil

What draws me near?
Why do I risk burning?

I have not always felt the lie so clearly
But as I learn and explore my world
The shallowness of my existence has been plumbed
Found wanting

It doesn’t match the world that others see

To see their worlds
I must
Walk through the fiery veil
        To connect
        To love
        To fit the pieces of their worlds and mine together

Now I pity those I was once like
Trapped in their small worlds
Blinded eyes
Plugged ears
Wrapped in cotton

They don’t know what they don’t know
But a part of me knew
A part of them knows
And mourns

For the world that waits for them
Beyond the veil
Thinking about how I, as a white person, have benefited from doing anti-racist work; a big thing is relieving the cognitive dissonance that comes from your perspective of the world being frequently in conflict with non-white people, especially distressing and confusing when its in conflict with friends and family
stargazer Apr 2020
i play a song
full of dissonant chords
but i won't stop
until the last note

because maybe
someone needs to hear a song
i can't hang on for me anymore.

but i'll hang on for you <3

Juhlhaus Oct 2019
At the brink of worlds I could
Hear hammer blows on coffin wood
Drink headline ink 'til doomsday falls
Taste newsprint paste on gray cell walls
Fissures deep in split flesh stung
With gritted teeth and muted tongue
Where endings chewed in unplacid fever
Slake only the fat of the world-eaters
All worlds end.
There is so little left,
And still much i need to question.
So untrusting of what i can see, hear or touch,
My senses fooled a thousand times and a thousand times again.

Hardened fortifications blossom,
Bringing perpetual reinforcement.
Working for at least a respite,
From coyote hordes outdoors.

Odysseus waits at the gates,
Educated eyes identify his horses,
Staring straight through the belly of the beasts,
Thwarting threats before they take to action.

King in the learned castle,
To never be fooled again.
Entrenched deep in his defences,
Securing solace through his reclusion.

it is lonely on your own

There is so little left,
This gives forth the question,
so untrusting of what i see, hear, touch but feel?
Perhaps the fraud is mine.

Cynical battlements sprout,
With spores of harsh repairs.
Crusading for disenchantment,
Cry wolf and call coyote.

Teach to never looked beyond the gates,
Focus attention in,
Cowered behind walls and towers,
Forever fearful to lower the bridges.

Lord of what little is leftover,
If any is left at all,
Prisoner to himself,
Until he allow himself to leave.
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