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austin Oct 2019
I'm not sure if the sun came up
I haven't seen it shine
There's something wrong, I think I'm stuck
I'm running out of time

I'm not sure if I'm still awake
I think I might have drowned
There's nothing here, it feels so fake
I think I'm falling down
It's your problem when you disregard God's voice, not mine.

No matter how you "perceive" it, the reality of the state of those suffering whom you callously disregard, saying "all is well" in your unloving indifference, remains unchanged.
Justin Aptaker Aug 2019
do you like to worship yourself
better than worshiping anyone else?
do you look at any glass
except the ones that show yourself?

haven't you heard?
the towers have fallen!
haven't you heard
That towers can fall?

and then, just when
I thought I had seen it all...

i found myself sitting in a different
                                     room
  it looked like a palace
                         but it was a tomb
  like a bleeding, barren womb
  like a child born far too soon
       and it was dark
       and i was scared
       and adults were gathered in a far-off room

and there were things in there with me
that the adults couldn't see
and they were dark and they were small
with the sharpest little teeth

I'VE LOST SOMETHING
something's been taken!
they tore something out of me
     i knew the moment
     i awoke
     and saw the daylight flee

do you paint pictures of food
to donate to starving children?
do you max out your credit card
to profit off God's business?

the towers
shining like mirrors
we see our reflection
   then all is just shattered
   then all that once mattered
   is a column of smoke in the wind
        and angels descend
        from mansions pretend
        to caverns below
        where old Titans stow
                  away
     awaiting the day
      that Chaos will arrive
      their savior
and swallow Earth and its deepest recesses
and them along with it all
   and Vishnu sleeps
   on the endless serpent
Written ca. 2011
F A Pacelli Jul 2019
the less we desire
the richer we are
but what is a life
lacking in desire?
must we become robots
to be enlightened?
or is there a place between
obsession and indifference
where happiness flourishes?
Nikita Jun 2019
When the sun rolls her eyes
A soft whisper reminds him
You’re home free once you lay inside

Barbed wires and lilac thieves
He's cloaked from head to toe
The Promised Land saws at his knees

Raising her head, she cries
Only not for stars or dreams
But to fill as though she is ten, not five

It’s the destination, not the journey they say
Preaching as though you don’t have soil to stay

Listening into the black and white picture screen
Ripples draped in red
They are not called she, he, only thing

Stripped of
Care
Consideration
Left less than animals

Tell me again why you believe this man covered in cloth
Is any less than the man who hides behind a rock
'A refugee is someone who has been forced to flee his or her country because of persecution, war or violence. A refugee has a well-founded fear of persecution for reasons of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership in a particular social group. Most likely, they cannot return home or are afraid to do so.'

https://www.unrefugees.org/refugee-facts/what-is-a-refugee/
Annie May 2019
this is all that i am
falling
rising
a fluctuating being

strange to even say
that i have been waiting
and i waited -

but why must I hide
all that i feel
all that i am?

for i know
nothing’s changing
except me
longing
sinking
a fluctuating being
Not unlike the monster for which it was named,
With debaucherous whims that divide foreign lands;
Here at the briny, gilded portal to our home now stands
A hollow woman with a torch, whose warmth
Has become faded and disheartening, and her name
Mother of Philistines. From her once guiding hand
Emerges world-wide distaste; deranged eyes ransack
The smog-filled harbor that dystopias fame.
“Keep, other lands, your progressive pomp!” shrieks she
With welded lips. “Take our tired, our poor,
Our huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of our teeming shore.
Take these, the homeless, tempest-tost from me,
Lift your lamp as a guide and take them all!”
An adaptation of "A New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus, the poem inscribed at the base of America's Statue of Liberty.
Rise and shine, time to cruise away
Rushing out in the dollar's name
As your life is used in vane
For poor commerce's sake
It doesn't matter if you're baked
Or if tragedy gives you a teary shake
You better not be late
Or you’ll eat from an empty plate
And starve until heaven's gate
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