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How will we progress today?

Will we risk life attending Mosque,
Or have an affair with our spouse's boss?

Will we take the dog out for a walk,
Step on a landmine, use plastic straws?

Perhaps we'll play with our kids today,
Or call Amber Alert, wait scared, and pray?

Will we defy authority with a righteous tone,
Or leave our tail tucked, like a dog with his bone?

Will we gauge goods today for our Vegan menu,
Or show a distention as millions today do?

Will we drive around town for cheaper gas,
Or choose our pickings from picked-over trash?

Do you sling eggs and sausage for sub-minimum wages,
Or attend a visitation in a tortured MADD rage?

Will you tee off at eight, or do a spin class,
Or sit solitary watching the hourglass?

Did we place our script at the shiny drugstore,
Or wade across water to Jordan's fair shore?

Will we question the teacher at our kid's school,
Or play Avatar falling off our bar stool?

Did you set a reminder on your AI phone
For chicken delivery to your suburban home?

Will you lift copper tubing from construction sites,
Proclaiming your station in life gives you right?

Do I recline in my La-Z-Boy for a nap with a book,
Or teach someone to live with a line and a hook?

Will you take out your family,
Are you last on your list,
Will you reciprocate a handshake
Or raise a gloved fist?

Our words can't bind all our wounds,
Few are born with silver spoons,
We're not wrapped in silk cocoons.
A metamorphosis is coming
To this world of gloom,
A rousing group flight,
And it can't come too soon.
And I never even mentioned diseases.
Tyler Matthew Nov 2018
I just don't know how people do it.
Wake up and work for a living
just to pay hospital, insurance,
utility, student bills
like there's nothing to it,
and then go to bed
with no scary thoughts beating
like cold rain through their heads.
Every day is a struggle between
either myself and the world or
myself and time or
myself and myself,
and it takes every drop of will
that I have to not reach for
the bottle, the pipe, on the shelf.
I just don't know how people,
some people, most people, it seems,
can live any better than that.
Like the one percent sitting
on top of the world looking
down, hysterically laughing
at those who have to work,
who breaks their
backs and necks and minds
trying to make something last
longer than a few ******* days.
Sure, there's beauty in the world,
but you gotta pay to look at it.
And even then, you aren't allowed
to just grab it and take it,
put a sign on it and make it yours.
Someone's already claimed
all you hold dear.
You're just stuck borrowing.
Sincerely Em Sep 2018
Don’t share your love
Don’t pass out smiles
Don’t gaze upon
The passersby

The catastrophe
Of the love in me
Is my uncontrollable
Sincerely Em Sep 2018
Don't walk my garden
Don't pick my flowers
Don't pull my leaves
I own the trees

The pebbles you're walking on
The lake you're swimming in
The berries you're picking
They belong to me
Venus in Scorpio Sep 2018
I find myself wanting too much
To see the woman I love
To create work sent from above
To share the joy I have
To quell the anxiety I bear
To care
To matter somewhere
I don’t know why this happened to us
To grow up with expectations
They rule the divided nations of the mind
And I’m just a ***** to them
A prisoner of time
The active volcano of my soul is ready to blow
At any disturbance
I feel the urge to cry
let the ash rain from the sky
But It’s doesn’t seem ready yet,
it’s been a while since that last time
My mother read, disparaging aloud a compassionate letter my brother wrote to her about his longings for a better relationship,
I was twisted and hurt deeply by her maliciousness,
It caused me to rid myself, I ran to my room, and she came following in
I dropped to the floor in agony like a tragedy had just unfolded,
She held me as I screamed and cried "He doesn't have anyone"
Realized months later, neither do I
how bold it seemed to allow that pain possess me.
Am I just a ***** I thought
I think we can try our best to be tough and ignore the pain we suffer, Push It down
And now I’ve reached that point
where my heart can bleed no more
My soul can’t suffocate any longer
and there I’ll go pretending
Living inauthentic
Until I decide to stand up for my beliefs
I read once that the assertion of faith is only an indication of fear and I’m afraid of everything near
How underrated because it doesn’t help us survive,
I guess I’d be better off dead if any attempt to appear confident is just that
An attempt
Gray clouds consume me when I’m feeling down I cough them up and my lungs bleed deoxygenated blood

What if you have no one, nowhere to turn
No time to hurt because you’re inundated with work

I’m a fool for wanting, I have a disaster of emotion within me
Brandon Conway Jul 2018
Logged out again, ugh, why?
An ad longer than the video.....sigh
Buffering....for the third time

Old man doing 30 in a 35

My cheeseburger is missing cheese
Can you just make it right, please!?
Taking too long at the check out line

Detour on I-85

The mail is late again
Wait, the package hasn’t even moved yet!?
Moving this slow should be a sin.

Check engine light, does it ever end?

Any spare change, please, my friend?
Pennies? What, you don’t have a dollar?
My family is starving, you have nothing to lend?

No parking to be found.

Such a long wait, better be someone dead
No doc, I didn’t come for a lecture on my pounds
Now shut up and feed me some meds.
Dan Beyer Jan 2018
Sorry, sorry, I’m late again!
Don’t you worry though,
I’ll do better next time
Because I told you so.

Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to stand you up!
I know this looks bad, but
I promise I’m not a schmuck.
I’ll make it happen, just you wait and see.
I won’t let you down again.
You can count on me.

Sorry, sorry, I promise I did try.
I know I said that last time.
I didn’t mean to lie.

Where you going baby?
We can still make this work.

Can you believe that ******* *****, calling me a ****!?
This is based on the entitlement I see in woman's messages from guys on any number of dating apps.
Scarlet McCall Nov 2017
We don’t have to be pretty for you.
We don’t have to fake it ‘til you’re through.
We don’t have to wear high heels.
We don’t have to give you giggles and squeals.
We don’t have to be “feminine.”
We don’t have to take it on the chin.
We don’t have to wear a low-cut dress.
We don’t have to forgive you when you confess.
We don’t have to wear short skirts.
We don’t have to smile when it hurts.
We don’t have to stop talking.
We don’t have to stay, if we want to be walking.
We don’t have to be entertaining,
and we’ve had enough of your blaming and shaming.
We’ve had enough of secrets and silence.
We’re calling you out on your threats and your violence.
I've been wanting to write something about the Weinstein et al revelations. The more I've been thinking about it the more I've realized that for a long time now I've had the growing sense that even when men are ok--or claim they're ok--with women as co-workers and even bosses and politicians, they still believe in their own  ****** prerogative and the notion that women are supposed to entertain them.
marta effe Sep 2017
Do You know
what Brexit is?

When I'm about to check-in
It seems to be some fun to wonder
Will we let you back in?

I've lost my accent
to the rainy days of summer here
Grown paler in the slanted rays of sunlight
I've cried
And slept
And loved on a double decker bus

But all you think -
You say:

You know,
England is my home
Ha! How small, this world!

Then, at the passport control,
If you ask me
'where'd'you go?'
I'll reply:
I'm going to yours.
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