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In half is what I am
They don't know because they can't
I don't blame them
But maybe I should
For every time they think they would
Every time they think they could

Just like the number 3,033
The brain cannot see
Cannot be in the place of me

In half is what I am
Broken, unbroken
Trying what I can
Trying to make them see
Trying to fight the side,
I don't want to be
Trying all I can to just let it be
My very first poem. I wrote this to put words onto how I feel about how I am. The number 3,033 is inspired by the larger number comprehension theory, where it's said that the brain can't fully comprehend nor visualize numbers above the thousands and so forth
neth jones Jul 10
fiber optics  carry the politics
   over the border
the cultural wave  became a thirst
   so empty so plenty
so dumped in the plumb sea
   waste polices and what memory
the plump of luxury  we'd wed previous
   hard to flee ourselves
with our self discipline   a worrying absentee
08/07/25
No nettles within the gardens,
No ¹needles within the haystacks.

Who made for them new navels
And showered with salted-wine what would not leave us.

Who thrushed through every grain of every chaff,
Picking out & crushing that which was rotten.


We who made the meadows free!


Who liberated they who were encased in ²amber;
Rain, Lightning, Thunder.

Who slayed the ³Fearsome Hydra.
Slew the ⁴Slithering Gorgon.

They who silenced the speaking weeds
And the whispering flagons.
Companions of the ⁵Dragon.

Who caused the Titans to bleed.
Who stitched the wound,
Who cauterized it,
Who bandaged it.

The first of us to understand,
What was the seed.
1 - Pine needles, pine snakes.

2 - Those who evolved or changed.

3 - Parasites, disease, pestilence, sickness, et cetera.

4 - "Satyrs of Cybele" - Ignorance & arrogance, especially that of which is brought on by things like psychotropics.

5 - Electric, in the context of thought and expression by that of the body's muscles. Science. Communication or illustration of one's consciousness.
Zywa May 19
You know the feeling

of not belonging, being --


different, a guest.
Novel "Twee vrouwen" ("Twice a Woman", 1975, Harry Mulisch)

Collection "Thinkles Lusionless"
Reece Apr 13
As we walked through the wood,
I found myself oddly stood,
Amidst my peers and fellow friends,
As we searched to find an end,
For we believed we could.

There was a fork in the road,
Two paths diverged, their end unknown.
My peers and friends took the right,
While I stood, paralyzed in fright,
Not knowing where to go.

As they walked down their trail,
I hoped and prayed that they’d prevail,
But feeling called to look around,
I focused on the ground,
And studied, and eventaully prevailed.

The one to the left,
Had been more unkempt.
The right was more ideal,
Even though they hurt their heels,
They charged forward without regret.

However, deep in my soul,
I felt called, the origin unknown,
To walk the path that no one dared,
Not necessarily because they were scared,
But because the right had been controlled.

So, gathering my wits,
I took a step, with no intention to quit,
And walked down the path to my left,
A warm feeling spreading in my chest,
A sense of pride, I must admit.

The road I travel on,
Not many dare to step upon,
But those who do are,
Chosen by the stars,
To walk the road I travel on.
A shorter, not-so-subtle nod toward "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.
In the boastful, casual manner you portray,
You betray your actual lack of ruthlessness.

The act is a fun game,
But the consequences are heavy.

If no one buys what you're selling,
Suffice to say you're starving.
If it causes greater harm or grief,
Suffice to say you're swinging.

For others yet are playing,
But play not.

For behind many faces hide wide smiles,
By many frames are different the pictures.
For the floors all are dusted.

Be ruthless in gentleness & kindness.
From the minute you blast off,
You get blasted off
From this plane of existence.
Try to run,
We've already fixed the coordinates
And we're coming for the restoration.
Try to hide,
You will find no refugee
Under any rock or in any log.
The lock's come off,
Here comes Pandora!
If neoliberalism urges caution
To our humanitarian approaches
But causes legislative bloat
And fosters lethargy,
Then neo-conservatism presses observance
To the safeguarding of our rights
But causes judicial confusion
And breeds separation.

Between us & I,
Between collective & individual.
So much joy amid the animosity,
So many cliques amid the niches.

Sadly concentrated & widespread-
What once was Orthodox is again
Within the eyes of most of man.

Such twists of countenances,
Such distortions of their own doctrines.

What scripture is not perverted?
What documents are not violated?

What laziness by the righteous
In eye of such cutthroat ruthlessness,
For the extent of the lack of justice
There is not nearly equal ire.

Get out & do something,
Stand up for what you believe in,
Lest you're unable.

Keep calm & carry on,
Be civil & observe decorum!
Keep calm & carry on,
Be dutiful & raise the standard!

There's barbarians on the border,
We're facing invasion
And enemies from within!
False citizens who lifted the gates;
Members of the house & senate,
District & magistrate.

The foreign threats grow,
We're completely surrounded
By enemies along our walls!
Backstabbing friends conspiring against us;
Those honored to be called partners & allies,
Apparatchik & Goldfasanen.

There's a war being waged
By the likes of values, beliefs-
Through our culture!
Capricious celebutantes with secret agendas;
Members of the paparazzi & cinema,
Big shot bankers & developers.

Every discussion is a battle,
For the extremists are everywhere,
By wealthy like terrorists!
Tyrannous minorities with their backdoor deals;
Those revered of the fraternal & esoteric,
Seedy elites & naive henchmen.

So much most repulsive, henious,
By perpetrators most traitorous.
Josephine Wild Sep 2023
I am just me.
A single being.
A beginning and an end.

I am just me.
An individual.
My character and personality and morality belong to myself.

I am just me.
A human alone.
My heart is mine alone to own.

I am just me.
A person all my own.
My worth terminates in myself alone.
Feeling the sense of self during meditation. It’s just me and nothing else matters.
Meandering Words Jan 2023
only two dancers
remain standing
shuffling
   and swaying
under syncopated lights
held by
an unspoken law
an apparently unavoidable
trait of human nature
that forces them
to continue despite
such terrible choices
of song
and persistence
each was merely
a "friend
   of the bride"
moving in different circles
prior to this
their dancefloor meeting
unfortunately
neither can now
abandon the other
to dance alone
to risk being seen
as the cause
for bringing this
near-sacred ritual
to an end
these residual bodies
left with no choice
but to mirror
each movement
match every sidestep
echo every clap
with rhythm
   or without
it will not matter
so long as this
transient solidarity
of misplaced confidence
and forced smiles
continues into
the next song
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