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Bella Isaacs Feb 2023
The anger's in my cheeks
The words aren't in my mouth
I know like I have for weeks
Everything's only going south
If I stay to hear you say
Another word of your fanatic way
You cannot be wrong, sir
Your stance is on fleek
Your shoulders are strong, sir
But your logic is weak
And I know the ins and the outs and the world
And I'm sitting and spitting with my fists curled
Oh yes, oh yes, you have got the answer
But haven't you heard, you're not the new cancer?
I'm mincing my tongue, you're not mincing yours
And I know that my knowledge is worth just two straws
Wise men ask the fool
And they all sit and drool
But I burn in my anger
At how you don't know hunger.
A very, very frustrating philosophy discussion group session inspired this one.
Rick Warr Oct 2020
it’s on the rise

so they said to me ...
can you believe it?
so i told them ...
the nerve!
***?
***!
what are they thinking?
some people!

We are the reasonable ones
but They
are idiotic, stupid bogans
greedy arrogant money-grabbing capitalists
or non believing infidels

we are quick to form our clubs
our churches of belief
secure our self-righteousness
fomenting hate for others

we reinforce our togetherness
with short hash-tagged rants
we are bonded in our contempt
for those other miscreants

we forget our humanity
and squabble over scraps
while our planet dies
we draw territorial maps

we reinforce our borders
forgetting what our wars have done
to our fellow humans
what has our fighting won?

self interest media
helps to congeal
a fake ****** mess
a long long way from real

so spare the indignation
open minds and hearts
it’s only what we gave
that’s remembered when we pass
noticing seemingly more self righteous indignation in the streets
She will be tough
Whenever she is spoken to
In the wrong way
She will tell you what she wants
And she'll tell you right away
She will breathe because she can
Not because she needs to
Her heart is solid brick
With not a care in the world
But don't let her indignation fool you
She cares more than you could know
Her feelings have been muddled
By so many years of pain
What if instead of crying,
She just made it rain?
She will step outside into the scorching sun
Let her hair flow
In the dying wind
Don't be bothered to save her
Because she's only ever saved herself
Indignation is dangerous
Unless you're smart enough
Yet another description in my book!
Dolly Balou Dec 2017
What is fair?
It is a simple question.
I never really knew what was fair and what wasn't.

Do what you are told.

As a child one continues on, no matter the circumstances.
Do they question the fairness of what they're exposed?

No.

It is only upon reflection that one feels the indignation that they endured.
More often than not, the suffering at the hands of another.

Is this fair?

Pent up anger, so suppressed it causes physical disease.
Passive annoyance, felt, but never spoken.

What is one to do when this is their reality?

How can one unleash the pain of indignation?

Who determines what is fair and unjust?

These are questions which are difficult to answer, therefore, remain rhetorical.

For sometimes an answer in the spoken form, is never enough.
Nor is an apology.
mj Jun 2016
i can feel my soul rotting out
you’re sitting there, i can taste your
smoke
the bitterness of words on your
breath,
massless
meaningless
i breathe them in anyway.
i know you can’t take anything seriously;
maybe it’s just that you can’t take the
right
things seriously.
you look at me like i’m a
child
(why won’t you meet my eyes)
and you talk like the world is yours
to explain to me,
a little too loud and
a little too long and
a little too much like
you think you’re telling me things i don’t know
(could you even--?)
you think i speak when i’m spoken to,
i think i speak when i’m listened to;
because if you were
right
maybe fewer of these conversations
would be about you
and i wouldn’t be left to wonder if you like me
for the things i do say,
or just for the things i
don’t,
while i’m silently absorbed in
sitting here
listening
nodding
smiling
a word for every thirty of yours,
oh, wow
and
how nice
like clockwork until I’m just
crazy
with
listening,
counting down the seconds until your
impromptu sermon
(beacon of self-righteousness)
ends,
and finally
i can remember the sound of my own
voice,
snatched away in the wind
stirred up by your beating
wings,
but maybe carried off to someplace
where i can actually be
heard.
wrote this at 1AM after getting home from a party where I endured a little too much cigar-breath mansplaining.
Homunculus Sep 2015
Today's lesson's theme is political repression, through
Media deception, how men behind the curtain,
Treat the truth with an aggression, displacing crucial issues, by
Societal regression, material fixation, obsession with ***, and
Through years of inspection, I've learned to detest them,
My mind reels in anguish, I battle my depression, 'cause
When I look around, do you know what I see?
A bunch of petty *******, that makes no sense to me, and
I can't help but feel, that it's not meant to be, see
These many different reasons, why I'm stressed mentally?
Cause if we'd all get together, and behave sensibly, then
We'd throw these crooked bankers in the penitentiary, but
Instead, it's L.B. he was down on the block, the
Cops stopped him and found a crack rock in his sock,
Now he's locked upstate on a 5 year bid, though
His crime can't hold a candle to what Wall Street did
Wait... did I say 'did'? I did?... I meant does
Modify the tense to present; that's an is, not was
'Cause those ******* empty suits stay all day on a buzz, from
Champagne, *******, and the high class ******, then
In board room meetings, while behind closed doors,
They all gamble on the future of entire generations,
Make austerity and poverty, with wage stagnation, and
Stack private prison profits, selling mass incarceration,
Take steps at every turn to undermine our population,
These are ravings from a psyche with a short supply of patience.
I'm a little bit curious, why you aren't furious, and
Sometimes, I wonder, as they pillage and they plunder,
Where we're all gonna live when the world's torn asunder, and
I wait for the day the giant wakes from its slumber, and
The voice of the people, shakes the earth like thunder, to
Shatter shackled chains, and alleviate the pain, but
I guess my final question must be: do I wait in vain?
yup
Aditya Shankar Apr 2015
Imagine being a trapped fly
Resigning to a trapped life.
Your limbs flail about in despair
Your wings buzz in a futile escape attempt.
Indignation at first, that rapidly fades
Into confusion, anxiety, fear clutching your insides
Till you lose all hope, silently wait to die
And you realise
It's the same scared light you see in man's eyes.
Imagine...being a trapped fly
Resigning to a trapped life.
L Nov 2014
...
When we met,
I learnt that there were a hundred ways to rhyme "I love you".
I've realized now that there are a lot more ways to rewrite indignation.

— The End —