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It feels like the anesthetic is wearing off

This circus of machines

From coin-operated hostility

To wholesale apathy refineries

They tell us it's winter down in the subdermal

They tell us the foundation has grown weak

Dislocation is a incoming storm

Mirrors are distorted screens

Placeholders really

In a city without children

Even the statues weep

Snow upon the ground that was once blood

Now an empire without heirs

Even the trees hate us

Star pupils, interstellar eyes,

gazing across the frozen nebula

at stick figures in radiation suits,

lovers intertwined with reactant valves,

planted into unearthly soil,

a distant light from over our shoulder,

the good comet returns,

there might be an escape pod

for intangibles after all,

and once inside, images of moonbase love

and alien encounters,

that neither mocks the comically misjudged

visions of yellowed science fiction,

nor longs for some utopian future,

an environment that begs escapism

without denying humanity
We are all seeds
tiny grains of sand
lost on a desert wind
or so I understand,
on a hot afternoon
under a clear african sky
we blew into existence
God alone knows why
Man Mar 8
We have so few words for peace,
And far too many for war.
Symbolically, and literal.
Does everyone just hate each other?
I don't, I look at us like siblings;
A family of the same species
Contending with the forces of the cosmos
With the aid of all that is natural.
Man Mar 6
If I can not foster respect from you
In action and in word;
If nothing is ever good enough for you
My respect, you haven't earned.
If you cannot accept me as I am,
You are the problem.
Because I am only human
Malia Feb 29
This is humanity.
It’s flying and falling and
When your heart swells
Like the sun emerging
From the sea.

This is humanity.
Looking at all the faces
And seeing behind their eyes.

I whisper,
𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Carlo C Gomez Feb 25
Life is war,
my hands are hypnagogic,
so far from refuge.

The purgatory salesman,
an enemy with antlers,
speaks in hostile slogans:
create, destroy, rebuild, repeat.

My friend coma,
blunted and paranoid,
has lost her vital signs.

But Television says differently,
calls this an elegant demise,
you touch the screen
like you're touching God.

The immortal world
I'm hoping to collide with
is beautiful and closed to resistance.

But there are cracks in everything,
the snowglobe army
granular and brittle,
the constant uncertainty
of your universe
becomes a hiding game.

Take me with you
my halation angel,
to migration salvation.

We made our history
into mythology,
a mass of disconnected facts,
the stars may be dead,
yet, we're here
and we've stopped time.

Tonight I'm breaking
through the gates,
tonight I can see around corners,
suddenly, forever makes sense.
Nishu Mathur Feb 19
Though we can't change the order of things
Nor make some moments better
Nor alter what fate brings -
We can be there for one another

Though we can't stop the sun from burning
Nor the ice from layering rivers
Nor stop the tides from turning -
We can be there for each other

Though we can't wipe away all tears
Nor ease the many brows of grief
Nor remove the shadows of fear -
We can be there together

Though we can't hold the dusk at bay
As darkness begins to fill the sky
We can still brighten the grey -
When there with one another

And when the snow streams for a mile
When the scent of flowers fills the air
We can hold hands and smile -
When there with one another
Man Jan 26
What galavants as another,
Stuck out
Always staring in?
What sparks,
What smothers?
To capture a view,
Only to envision?
Walks the tightrope of light;
Cleaving night, like rays of a beam?
Put together by others,
Yet lacks a seam?
Has power, that
Blossoms only as a flower?
Looks upon the empty,
To see something?

Who knows nothing?
in the park, the homeless stamp their feet in the cold

as the snow drifts down through the city

onto leafless trees, painting winter branches

white and still and voiceless
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