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Flatfielder Nov 2020
A recall to the past
Presently I am good
Comfortable with a toothache
Abolished lives' lows
Shuddered when realized
Have you been opportunistic
Or just had dumb luck
When you avoided
Other's miseries
Did you take more
Than you received
A loner in his thinking
Always was
What is left
No return
Accept it
There will be an end
Write as near_lane7 on mirakee , FB and
In a chapbook , not finished yet
Sabika H Nov 2020
Behold my careful stride,
I decide.
I decide.

I test the winds
and waters,
I decide
the fate of of the dwellers.

Carried by an external force,
I decide my inner course.
Sohini Sep 2020
Two good, close
Separated by the
Existence of humans.
For they are
Misunderstood by
The species
They originally
Existed for.

Called themselves
Tried extensively to
Establish their individualism,
Yet holding hands to
Become mutually inclusive.

For they were
Lines drawn, fades.
Misunderstood by
Mutually inclusivity
As one.

Silly of the two friends,
Had no idea
Humans have failed
Humans for
The longest imaginable
For they were
Just mere Intangible,
Failing them is
And will remain
An easy possibility.
The confusion between Objectivity and Subjectivity and the fading lines between the two and the confused humans about how to separate the two, made me think and that's how I created this piece.
Nicolas Ashbaugh Jul 2020
I was born different
I believe in science
Yet is it defiance?
Some call it angst
I say it’s strength

You can be different
Your parents can have opinions
Yes you’ve lived in their dominion
But you can do what you want
Don’t let them give you a haunt

I can have a distinct thought
Because I am not their bot
Religion, career, goals
Afterlife, love, friends, souls

I am strong in the way I speak
I am proud that I am unique
No one can put words in my mouth
For example, North, West, East, South

I can make this a short poem
I can make the rhyme scheme open
I can make stanzas parallel
Or make this syllable swell

Or this poem could be longer
Making my words even stronger
This poem has no distinct sound
But isn’t that what makes it pound

Five, five, four, four, four, four
Maybe this stanza will have even more

Is it wrong to take from myself?
Stealing straight from my bookshelf
“Got to think, got to focus”
“Or my life will go unnoticed”
I think it is mostly alright
It’s fine if I take what I write

So what is this poem’s message?
It seems pulled out of a wreckage
Words mismatched, lines have been detached
The focus scratched, but the theme patched?

Here it is
Was no quiz
It can be hard
Life can be scarred
Yes, you were born rare
Show it if you dare
Discussions and recitations can be found on my YouTube channel Vindex's Vids
-Goat Apr 2020
Nowadays everybody seem lost in their mobiles
Seeing the ones they’re yet to befriend as hostiles
Neglecting what used to be human values
We now even forget about our own statues

Too scared to exchange words with strangers at the park
We forget that nature too used leave a memorable mark
We seem to forget about the world around us, for in our hands we hold an omnipotent device
-carpe diem
Utahi Kamu Apr 2020
Ladies and Gentlemen and dear Children,
How does a fool **** himself:

Oh he eats the heads of its own men
And his own mouth with an amen
Poetic T Oct 2019
Normality tries to hinder influence
          of my cognitive


But elastic banded restraints
   keep stretching me to my
Then I'm restrained before my

   I try to move along but
I'm always behind where I took
                                  my first step.

My thoughts sharpened,
           and I collected every barded
emotion to stretch that restraint.

Taking that step I used my unblunted
and instead of being withdrawn.

              I took my real step for the first


normality was restraining and I took
       my individualism and broke free

from the expected norm...

   Who wants to be normal in a world
           of clones.
I'm the original me,  
       A coherence of self that's now
         non hindered by others normality.
Sciresen Sep 2019
We bask in the burning sun no longer shadowed by trees or softened by layers of cloud and dust. We relish the heat and gloat of our strength.

"I can bare the sun."

"Look how weak its rays dart forth."

The palm tree dries its delicate arms, and the willow falls with a final exhalation.

Man doth need no shade, for a strong man weathers the sun. A great mountain boasts before the wailing shimmer, and the roses soak up the heat at their leisure.

"I am my own person."
"I am strong and independent."
"I don't need anyone."

But the roses cry without the rain, and the mountain crumbles before the trembling earth below.

The sun withers them all alike. It burns the fields and torches cities. It churns and wails and scorches the lilies.

Oh man. Poor man. How do you plead? For you built no well you lonely sinner. You lie in pain, but you cut down your shade.

You need the sun. You need the rain. You need the shelter, the friend, and the pain.

The rose was born for your pleasure and the sun to keep you warm.

So, sob in the rain, but the palm was born for shelter. Burn in the heat, but the willow reaches out.
As an American, I know who deeply ingrained independence is in our culture. We live and breath for the strongest individualism. We uphold the self-made man. We praise the single mother who made it all on her own. And these are wonderful success stories, but they should bring us to tears!

As an American who travels a lot and has lived in multiple communal cultural contexts, I understand the need for one another. I understand the baffled looks when I explain Americans habits to pay each other back to the cent. I understand the pain in my friend's hearts when they hear me talk about the beauty of a strong and independent American. They hurt. They see pain for me. They see immense loss for my American brothers and sisters. How could anyone want to be so independent?

As a guy who met a girl, who thought he loved a girl, who was told by this girl after dating for some time that she was "just too independent - always having one foot in and one foot out - afraid of commitment - wanting to make her own way in life..." I understand the pain too.

I am the willow of this story. Millions of people in Asian and African cultures would see themselves as the willow in this story. And my poem is to Western culture. More specifically, to America. Most specifically, to you.
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