What have we here?

A shy boy who wouldn’t swing

When all the other monkeys played,

Who didn’t like to speak

In case the others laughed and brayed,

Who didn’t quite fit in

With the other boys in school,

And ducked and dived

And hid from sports

When he couldn’t grasp the rules.

The boy who missed the girls

While he hid within his room,

And couldn’t speak when they were there

In case they spoke his doom

And wished and dreamed

For something more

Than others would assume.

The boy within the man

Who argued to the end;

The man of right and wrong

Who fought the standard trend,

And stood up for

The little things

That no others would defend.

The sad pathetic loser,

The one who had no friends,

Fought the fight for all of us

While we scrabbled to ascend,

And, at the last, the misanthrope,

When he could do no more,

He stood beside his principles

That he learned so hard before.

He watched the so-called good

Sell out their souls for lies,

Either to themselves

Or the devil in disguise.

He stood for truth and honesty,

And was typically despised,

But now he’s gone,

We’re all alone;

Slaves we realise.

The clock is filled with mockery
As its ticks and tocks
Ring in my ears for centuries
I watch the sun slowly set
Knowing it will rise once again
Having lost the uncertainty
That ensured my happiness' existence
For those whom I
Once shared life with
Have long left this world
And I will never know their fate
I will never experience
What galvanizes my curiosity the most
For we have
Unintentionally ended our lives
By disabling their ability to end
Causing a truly perpetual imperial affliction
As wishing for more
And for less simultaneously
Often causes
My eternal regret
Is that of greed
And disregard
For immortal consequences

Ello, Enlightenment.
Yet we meet again,
Your elusiveness is profound.
Because, I haven’t found,
How to hold on to thee.
Shall I sit underneath a tree?
No, I will just be.
In tune with nature,
Like the bees.
In my future,
What changes things? Powerfully,
I think, that it is me.

Self-centeredism is the past,
Forget your sins.
Commit good only, please.
Freeze time. Forward-backward,
Not an option, but now we are here.
Forget time, unleash your nowness.
We are here as sentient beings.
Can you change anything?
Be that which you are,
But don’t be the same as you were.

Growth comes from you,
Inside your mind.
It’s a choice, so choose first;
That which is better.
Don’t settle like the dirt under your feet.
Push forward and see the beautiful
Being that you can be,
that you are to me.

By: GeoEthE
Georges Ethan Eloquin
Good Environmental Ethics
Great Energy Everywhere

what are we doing here?
who are we?
could it be mere animals of evolution,
or something more?

consciousness,
thought simply resultant biomechanics
instinct propelling us forward on
rails laid by the genetic makeup of mankind
common sense or even decency
impossible to intercede impossible to
pry wheel of raging cart from track

dominance destruction greed consumption
a white knuckle ride
maniac grin adorning psychotic visage
speed bumps people, morals and expression
all for the powerful's possession
riding the narrow rails of instinct's destiny
until
wall struck impossible to penetrate
regardless weight of gold and accumulation
from society's centre outward the world to explode
choking to death on our own exhalation
drowning in the sea of our own consumption

the absence of empty filling this suit
hope that there might be another way
another path or at least reason
a hand better suited the lost to guide
to veer us from this path—
this societal suicide

a means to explain inner inclination
my inside bigger than the outside
spirit locked within a jar
a vessel
contained dimension not fitting this dimension
ethereal hands pressing against its walls
screaming internal
I want out
freedom home
though the path to which
the unknown
terrifying to the core
this longing
to be somewhere, but
knowing I shouldn't be in a hurry to go
spoken not by word but emotion

I would not tempt with trick of parlour
too insignificant to make demand
in bed, eyes closed
feeling connection to foreign land
speaking inside my mind
not alone in the dark
yet there lay no one next me
is that you,
scratching at the wall of recessed psyche?
behind, hiding passage to infinite knowledge
awareness obscured from consciousness' sight
for a time
for my existence as a man
until the end
until those final frightful moments
then
when hope and terror stand as equals opposing
might I finally realize spirit's truth,
or cease altogether—never to know

If I offer my      kindness,

                      Accept    it.
          ­         Embrace    it.
             Take care of    it.

If      you      don't, someone else will.

Your mind is an abyss sated with emptiness,spore of an ink-jet,
the heart is erupting with repugnant repulsiveness.
Your conscience ravage by your impulsive act.
You indulge in savagery shackled by misery creativity is a mystery .

You diverged from an honest life and now you're perjuring in art you dark-prowlers.
Converged with parasites marauding, Proud-Writers.

Cursed with uncertainty you're embracing lies, in the realm of thieves there's a decaying crown.

Disoriented poem
                                 True nonsense
               But by definition
Does it have purpose
              Tell me for certain
                                 Is it a worthless fraud
                                       Composed of senses’ shells
                                                         Concealing life without the law
                                                             ­                Law of a motive,
                                             One’s reason and justification
                            Now fragmented with a poem
             But is the poem illustration
Symbolic, emblematic,
             Is their truth in its act
                            Of destruction, any thinking?
                                             Shall it raze the moral ground?
                                                         ­  Or far more quickly
                                                         ­                  Blight us all?
                                                            ­                          All in this state, this
                                                            ­                                               fluster,
                                                        ­                                      This plight,
                                                         ­                     All in this way
                                                             ­  That we’re departing