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Sometimes I wonder if it's just from a lack of life experience. Easy for me to say though, since I'm not a poet, and I write nursery rhymes. A closed mind causes individual thought to bounce off of cranium walls, and when these confused thoughts do leave the body, they literally bounce around your living quarters and infect those that you love. So, if you blame writer's block on anything but yourself, you are just projecting more "confused" energy.

I picture a person just sitting there with a pen or phone, angry at the world that they are scared of. Maybe I am wrong, but it truly is related to laziness. These same people sometimes use that anger to inform others of how stupid they are. Never stopping to look at themselves.

I can't help but think that it's the ones who study, research, and live life more that get famous. These people with writer's block self publish, and yes, possibly end up with a book in the library...you know, the books that never get borrowed and look brand new, even when they're old.

You do know what a library is right? Well, grow some passion, and do some research. Walk a path that you normally wouldn't walk. After all, hasn't it all been said about poetry, poets, butterflies, writer's block?

I can't help but to think that some of these same people are like the haters that tried to run me off for years. Guilty conscious? Nope, guilty sub-conscious.

Don't worry, I have enough written to post 5 poems a day for 10 years. Maybe I will get a chance to post those someday. As for now, my mind is continually evolving, and searching...and finding. I just sit down and the *******(poetry) pours out of me. This is not poetry...true
These hits aren't aimed at anyone in particular...I just call *******, *******.
chicken Oct 7
Would he be there
without the private jets
without what he gets
without all of the coins and
wallet

Would he be there
without the vintage drinks
without the diamond clinks
without the invites, attendees and
selfies

Would he be there
without the late nights
without the hot lights
without red carpet fights, paparazzi,
backstage eyebrow tweeze

Would he be there
without hotter palm nights
without the lingerie
without the opportunity of neckin'
somebody else.
some people are in for the lifestyle and nothing else.
Ces Sep 2020
The Facebook zombie
Distorts its face:
Contorted, convulsing
A spasmodic smile.

Ignoring internal scars
Emotional wretchedness
Faking with gusto
What the good life is.

The Facebook zombie
Hunkers not for brains
But drools for likes
And virtual applause.

Like dazzling neon lights
Its ego shines bright
"I am the best"
"I am number one"
Says the connoisseur
Of filters and fakes!

The Facebook zombie lumbers
Towards the next bite
The next hit
Mindlessly raising its
Bony hands
As the camera sways
Finding the perfect angle.
Void Aug 2020
Every person she meets, she thinks they're fake.
They will only talk with her until it becomes a chore. They pretend to care, but then they treat her like an enemy.

She doubts her self worth
...
Her existence

She wonders if it is her fault that they treat her like garbage

Every person she meets
where are the times
when people could rely
     more or less
on what their leaders
     whom they had elected
spoke and did?

when there was yet no need
to fact-check every other sentence
of presidential self-appraisals
or denigrating tweets about opponents?

after three years of suffering
through all shenanigans of the most blatant kind
it seems that rudeness, ignorance, and lies
have quietly become accepted as new normal

we've learned that people we elected
     to fight for our cause
can say one thing
     and then the opposite
throw in a lie or two
and nobody complains
or votes them out of their coveted offices

in fact
thanks to the wonderful examples of our leaders
we now have learned to distrust everybody
even ourselves

eight billion plus of unreliables
Apropos the recent appalling B-movie production in the U.S. Senate re: impeachment of Donald J. Trump
Em MacKenzie Jul 2019
Stemming from an old familiar place
I plead insanity but not my case,
with red tinted sunglasses covering my face,
failing at trying to hide my shame.
With an abundance of up but lacking down
I’ve searched every street within this town,
I’ll rediscover peace but forget my own name.
I really need it, I’ve got to treat it
again.

No one could survive this,
I’ve got no touch like Midas,
and those same demons are at my door,
the one’s who let themselves in before.
No one could survive this,
I’ve got no will to fight it.
Why waste the strength holding it at bay,
when I can mimic that strength another day, even for show.

Step into character and out of skin,
showcase on the nose but I can’t seem to win.
I have no interest in their flashy jackpot prize,
It’s lacking clear blue skies and her warm eyes,
but I’ll shake hands and force another empty grin.
I really need it, but it’s not greed
it’s pretend.

No one could survive this,
blatant weakness but I hide it,
I’m a lone black sheep among the cattle,
even Peter Pan despised his shadow.
No one could survive this,
a DNR with a revive list,
and no one wants to leave but they never stay,
there’s no direction but they continue on their way, where do they go?

Do you really need this,
I’m willing to bleed for bliss
and transcend.
Do you really need this,
how often will you read this
till you wend?
Do you really need this,
or do you just want to believe this
will end?
aeth Mar 2019
i loved you
i thought we were friends
until i saw you
standing with her
the person who made
me feel so worthless.
you laughed at me,
i didn’t think much of it.
but the next day,
you kicked me when i tripped,
laughed when i cried
and took the person
i loved the most away
who are you?
The Knife In My Back ~ Alec Benjamin
Kate longshaw Feb 2019
The Beatles are your jam,
I like pink Floyd.
I see the music scam,
Controlled and devoid!
My idols, once much loved,
Such talent, what sounds!
Their ***** hands once gloved,
Their lows know no bounds.
How epically great they are.
How cool and unique,
Each one such a shining star.
Now I see how they're weak.
They'll no doubt be exceptions,
Won't follow the the rule,
Most built on deceptions,
I'll sing and dance like a fool!
Can't unhear such lyrics,
Nor forget their beats.
Won't break into hysteria,
Nor allow such defeats.
To whom would I get my groove on?
What song would I belt?
Ok so it's all just such a con,
Songs I've grown up with and felt...
RUBY STYLES Feb 2019
its weird to live
where past and future pulls you
in  its black hole
emptying every essence of you
like you are nothing.

its weird to live
where original
is covered with fakes
and being original are
labelled as freaks

its weird to live
where people look
at your mistakes
when the already have
loads of their own.

but its beautiful
to live in the world
where words help me
to escape my own truth
and find peace

its beautiful
that even though life
seems meaningless and purposeless
the meaning of some collective words
makes living purposeful.

RUBY..........
hey writers ........ i am a 17 years old mess and i need a help
AvengingPoet Jan 2019
The sounds of another toxic culture
Letting out their voices
In red and white hats
With ******* answers to ******* problems
That don’t exist but the man on the cold screen
Told em’ it was true
Well, my friend, they told you a lie

What’s real or fake
It’s hard to tell
When the businessman
On the television
And tablet screens
Demands once again:
“It’s fake news!”
And the uneducated eat it up
Ignoring the fact
It’s like eating a Big Mac
For breakfast and lunch and dinner
Clogging your brain with absolute junk

Another day
Ten thousand more buzzes on my phone
Of breaking news

Maybe I should just throw the **** thing in a ******* river
And meditate and medicate for as long as I can
God knows I’m tired
God knows I’m tired...

And the kids in the red and white hats
Are standing in the way
To keep on a legacy
With historical ignorance
That only says:
“I belong here. You don’t. Stay out.”

God knows I’m tired.
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