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Chris Apr 16
Invader of war
At my doorstep
Knocking on thoughts
Now it's open
Please come in
Pillage, destroy
Whatever granny can provide.
Please let me know what this makes you think, I'm genuinely interested in knowing what you think.
Whether in the nation of imaginings
Or the state of reality
With each room you enter
Threshold you cross, door you open
You must leave what you think you know
Charlotte Atkins Oct 2019
I think I’m going to be sick,
Your contemptible *******-ish
Behaviour is rubbing off on me
Stealing pieces of me, elevating
Me to such a height that
When you inevitably drop me and
I shatter, my shrapnel showers down
Cuts and slashes, gashes and grazes
All those I ought to protect

No more will I be here for you to collect!
You may be mamma’s blue-eyed-boy
But remember pride comes before the fall
So be careful, the hurt hearts
You’ve abandoned means
Your record needs reconciling
James Rowley Jul 2019
Standing tall its rungs seemed so far apart then
The ladder peered down at my achievements with glee,
Realizing that I was nowhere near the standard of the men
That so easily surpassed this obstacle before me.
I tentatively touched the ladder, pleading for a strong foundation;
The steel rungs screamed back at me. Nonetheless I flailed forwards,
Gripping the battered beam without hesitation.
It told me of my critical mistake as it flung me westward,
And the jagged cliff loomed on as I was propelled ever closer
To the end of my hubris, that so set me on this path years ago.
happy Tuesday :}
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2019
Lear wanders in stormy open, bares warring elements,
The heavens blister, crackle, night is balmy shroud,
Wretched monarch babbles in sprinkles of wind cold,
Arguments lost by ones own pouring perturbations
And raining sky said 'nothing will come from nothing.'

Howl, howls into blackness treed in lightning splits,
His outcast soul, reels, fleshed, cut to smithereens,
Tang of salt burns on the bluffs and the sea rages,
So entire and ceremonious is Lear's fall meted out,
Air spoke, 'nothing from nothings ever yet was born.'

Sky proclaimed to man child King, here is a reckoning,                            
Each mad choice was self infliction, now wind flays
And sweet Cordelia lies in her innocent **** grave,
Sky, in thralls of thundering asks, 'what say thee now,
King of highborn follies, even purple heaths are rags,

Yet black and above you and night shades, whine,
Unworthy King, done in by compounded effects,
The might of maelstroms in low butterflies wings,
How now, bare trees, knifing reeds, skeletal flashes,
To rains of night are ever your lanyards my lord,'

Sad Lear so near oblivion fell mute, sky went on,
'Howl and cry mad King your reaper calls beyond,
The icy brisk heavens await to brusque you away,
Your slipshod kingdom was mere and fools' dream,
Howl, til howls abrupt abate, for nothing now comes.'
King Lear is a tragedy by William Shakespeare in which the titular character descends into madness after disposing of his estate between two of his three daughters based on their flattery, bringing tragic consequences for all. Based on the legend of Leir of Britain, a mythological pre-Roman Celtic king.
J Jun 2019

Next time I solipsisticly question my impact
Or dramatize or overreact
Remind me that due to tech lives can be lost
And hubris pays the ultimate cost.
In which I watch the first episode of Chernobyl and realize  at least I’m not sending people to their death via radiation poisoning.  Holy ******* ****.  And here I whine about usability.  It puts things in context for sure.
OpenWorldView May 2019
hubris not wisdom
is ruling the current world
it will end in tears
it always does
Iska Apr 2019
There once was a rock,
So bold and proud
But upon all others
He did scoff and frown.

He watched as the wistful wind
Tossed the waves up high
As the writhing sea
Draped in dazzling white
Frothed and danced in blissful delight.

He beheld the moon stained sand
As it churned and swept about
As the mighty wind blew the gulls throughout

The endless horizon
That crept to the sea.
Such beauty wasted,
For he truly believed
That none could ever be better then he.

“I am a pebble and I bow to none!”
Were the boastful words he cried to the Sun.
“Nothing could possibly change me!”
He declared to the Sea
“For I am eternal, while you all fade with time.”
He hollered to the Sand, with hubris filled pride.

“Then go forward, little pebble, and challenge the Tide.”
The whistling Wind whispered as they rolled him to the shore,
And the foolish pebble, need hear no more.

Flouncing, bouncing and pirouetting
The pebble lay upon the shore
when the Tide came to play
He told the Tide to “step aside,
For we are not the same.
I shall last forever,
whilst you are destined to fade away.”

The Tide surrounded him in a glittering host
he was then pushed and pulled throughout the coast
As the wild Waves rolled and bounced the pebble about
Before he was spat out once more on the sandy shore.

He cried out in pure rage.

So the Sand devoured him
And swallowed him whole
For how could he possibly not see
That he was not the only one
Blessed with the gift of immortality?

“Foolish pebble”
the Sand hissed in fury
“We are the dust of mountains.
We are the tellers of time
So tell me, little one,
how are you any better then I?”

The pebble stammered at a loss of words,
for such a thought had never occurred.
“As I thought.” The Sand sneered.
“How dare you be so quick to look down upon your peers.”

The poor pebble quivered as the sand spoke again
“If you wish to know eternity,
Look to the water,
towering over the waves.
Stands a Rock, older then both you and I.
Who knows? Perhaps she’s been there since the dawn of time..”

So the pebble turned again to the shore, peering over the waves
And what he beheld left him amazed.

The salt stained stone stood ageless.
Amongst the crashing of waves.
Breathing immortality, she gleamed in the sun.
The winds howled in rage
and the waves tossed their plumes
Demanding to be obeyed
But despite all of their efforts,
The Rock could not be swayed.

The pebble stood, humbled
And regret ensued.
Grief struck his core
and he was left quite confused.
When he heard a kind voice,
Both ancient and new.

“Hello, Little Pebble,
So battered and bruised.
Can’t you see?
The sand rubbed you smooth,
And the waves polished you anew.”

“I know your heart is heavy,
And filled with much regret.
So learn from your mistakes
And don’t you ever forget
That while you are simply a pebble
You glitter with gems from within
And once you embrace your potential,
Your eternity shall finally begin.”


{we are the tellers of time} is a line referring to the fact that hour glasses use sand to mark the passing of time.
For Grandma P.
Happy 71st birthday
Quivering, my hands try to hold
the thing most beyond man’s control.
My bloodshot eyes cannot behold
the weariness I can’t console.

My achy bones refuse to move
to encounter the vague unseen,
to meet what latent dreams disprove
in the fog of the in between.

I’ve not adjusted to the light.
I tried but my eyes weren’t prepared.
I want the end to be in sight—
the insight of which I am scared.

When will at last I be awake?
Is this the day I understand?
I stumble out into daybreak
to hold the future in my hand.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at
Victor D López Dec 2018
god is dead
he died of a bad review in The New York Times
that accused him of being
a fascist
and a *****

he is being replaced by a new
non-sectarian trinity
Me Myself and I
all of whom are
to **** god
and say
god is dead
god dead is
dead is god
is god dead

I think I have heard somebody suggest
(and therefore I have)
that the Department of Health is soon to issue
new and improved
free of charge  
to every adult
man and woman
sitting in front
of his/her
TV/Smart Phone/Game Console/Computer
waiting for
Slightly revised from the original in Of Pain and Ecstasy: Collected Poems
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