Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kate Lion Apr 2015
what does your hand reach for
away from the power source?
why do you reach away from that which will heal and help you?
fame in the west
false sense of security and peace in the north
greed fuels the reach for the east
down south you will find heartbreak and misery
don't overextend yourself
give yourself a backache from reaching for a happiness that will never come
instead, turn inward for a moment
reach for the light that is within you
give the richest parts of yourself away
and there you will find true happiness.
Visit https://instagram.com/poetickate/ to see the picture I drew that inspired this poem.  <3
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
There are two kinds of people in this world.
The ones who are quite important and win,
Then there are the rest of us who fail,
Who lament, who need "Dad's" lessons,
Followers who never were worth "a cent."
Who am I? I'm nobody, but in my dreams
I can do magic, I can fly, I'm wise and useful,
To the rest of the world this unsung hero is a zero
To be completely honest, realistic and truthful.
I know...I'm probably ironically the only IDIOT here who can fail at a poem about being "a failure..." SIGH...
Homunculus Apr 2015
Making magic make believe, while
Simple subtle lies deceive,
We have no fear; we shed no tears,
We've got our fingers in our ears
We've got our hands over our eyes
Trapped in our dreams of
Bright blue skies, where
All is well, ignoring hell,
Protected by that magic spell,
That shields us from the truth of
Things, and brings peace to our minds,
"Well, I can't see it, so it isn't there,"
"It's not my problem, so why care? "
OH! WOE IS YOU!
OH! WOE IS YOU!
Your understanding,
Blunt and crude,
My dear, you are
The ******* child, of
Wicked fortune's
Twisted smile,
Your heart, it wants  of
Will and wile,
Your mind, it lacks of
Skill and guile,
Your spirit, rendered
Infantile, impotent and
Indolent, my dear,
You are no innocent,
You are as guilty as they,
Your apathy has trapped you,
As your powers, they decay,
Now, you must break the spell, and
Wake your eyes,
Unplug your ears, and
Hear the cries, of
Retribution, on the wind,
That begs us all to join.
For a better understanding of the intended meaning of this piece, also read my "one note song"
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
Small people aren't measured
By their height;
That's not right!
We dread
The small-minded;
The bigots,
The ones of two minds -
The one they share,
And one they hide behind.
One face we see,
The one to please.
One hand held out,
Unembossed,
The other unseen,
Fingers crossed.
They're high in stature,
But small,
In matters.
epictails Apr 2015
A mist withers our eyes
From a destructive what is
Cloaked by the manipulation of fear
The obsessive consumption of greed
The yield of inequality
Blessing the treacherous snake
that is society
Protecting the overbearing tower of hierarchy

We are the rising hope
and the colossal downfall
Of an era so entrenched with fools' promises
and wicked minds
It is not anymore righting a wrong
so much as righting a system of wrong
Once a system of good
Which should have foretold better times
Meant to have put everything in place
But has left in its wake
A black hole that took everything
Right in all of us
In everything worth believing, worth hoping
The kind of thoughts and poems that come to me while I'm in the shower
Tiptoeing across my bed, fluffy ribbons and bushels of fuzz,
whispering across my windowsill, fresh crevices , fingernails a buzz,

cotton rows of crimson, creeping through the sheets,
fire crusts my crimson crop, burning at a thousand heats,

Further up above my head, there are workings on the walls,
those were hard to make, they caused cracks, down my fingernails to fall,

All around this tiny room, like tallies for a score,
Down now, we can look to, see the new ones on the floor,

That one is from yesterday, and that one a few more morns,

Waltzing, wiping, crawling, wheezing,
I'm very thirsty now.

Hands feel nice, the dips I made,
in walls, floor, bedpost too,

Scratches here today in wood,
tomorrow made in you.
Written offbeat in order to make it take an uneasy vibe.
Brian Payamps Apr 2015
The world is an addiction
Eyes filled with vanity
Wonder if it's green like envy
Wonder if it all spring from the same seed
See one with it and you have to get it
By any means, necessary
Even running at them at a red light
Close to a district
But how we split a watch three way
Guess two must have to die today
The world is an addiction
Selling ***
We want to see more violence
More brutality even the headlights on our cars getting meaner
Is this what the media is teaching us?
In 30 second intervals feeding us
That poison
The world is an addiction
But where to find rehab
Is it with in a church
For even pastor Mason wants his dough and he doesn't pray for a dollar
So I come to my knees and ask for forgiveness
For the Versace and Dolce and Gabbana
Everything I don't need while there are kids who don't eat
I was like them, hungry  
guess that's why I buy things
The world is an addiction
It flows through my veins like heroine, it goes up my nose like *******, inhaled it through my mouth like drough, smoke it of a pipe like Crack
For I desire everything I don't have
The world is my addiction
I seem to want all that I can't have since having all I have is not enough.
Mike Essig Apr 2015
They swim the cesspit
of greed and usury
mouths wide open
hungry always
for more
and deserving it,
too.

~ mce
epictails Apr 2015
He who breathes in asphyxiating the breathless
has raised himself to the point of a blind Nirvana
He who drinks the tears of the grieving
has seen his rotting reflection in the gravest depths
He who bleeds the dying dry
has given life to an endless lifetimes of hatred
He who grows fat with the sweat of others
has smiled through bones breaking, dreams shattering
He who has seen this all and chose to do nothing
Will eat all the lies
Swallow them as truths
That slowly eats him up instead
Until everyone in this **** world
Eats and becomes eaten
after a week of inactivity
Next page