Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Marla Apr 1
Our existence
Feeds off of an energy
Bound to no knowing of being.

Your splendor
Heeds you a warning
That you should mind fleeting.

We all belong
To a massive cause
With time itself within reach of us.

So keep your pace
And devote yourself
To finding peace in purpose.
Sparrow Mar 6
Wait not for dawn
Wait not for the first bird's song
Wait not for the trees and their leaves
Wait not for the dew on their skin
Wait not for the rays of the Sun
Wait not for them to kiss the Earth
Wait not for the woken faces
Wait not for their curious gazes

Honor the wishes of a dying night,
and a dying heart,
and retreat
For ever were you
another species
Conciliation was
never meant to be..

..easy
I just want to leave. Never say goodbye. Never turn back.
I know not where to. But I know I want to.
Thera Lance Jan 30
The Home Owners Association
Came by again today
With open glares at
The green crawling across my chestnut walls,
Blocking out my view of
Their pale tan plaster and
Baby blue curtains.

Fees clutched in hand
Eviction notices in their prayers,
They march up to a house,
Existing outside of their domain,
Bought by a grandfather
And never sold to no developer.

I watch with arms crossed
As they step past tomato plants
Whose fathers I planted with mine long ago.

Pleasantries exchanged
Mean nothing combined with
Cold eyes on me as
I politely tell them that their nobility
Has no jurisdiction.

Later when,
One let’s his dog dig up
Pieces of my lawn-less garden,
I stare from my curtain of leaves
At exposed roots,
The veins of a child’s loss reaching into air.

Tears will do no more than moisten the corners
As I walk outside
Camera in hand
Staring at a man
Who slowly droops
While shame dribbles back into his eyes.

Nothing is said,
Even when he turns and quietly walks away,
Leash held slack in hand
And dog loyally trailing behind.
A combination of fiction, news stories, and the real life daily dealings when confronting Surburbia.
Alexander Foe Nov 2018
Sometimes I trust my instinct,
but it tells me to do things in ways
that no one dares
It can implore me there,
to take paths no one walks

I fear the fresh footsteps I make
on the new brick road
I'm a social animal, a human;
doing what others do seems the right
thing to do

Once you're a bit different, society condemns
They raise an eyebrow, they don't give
their consent;
But I've seen great people do great things
Because they had faith in their instincts.

They have the drive to keep going,
To try and even fail.
I'd very much like to do the same,
At least I have real
control over my own doings.

If I succeed, I have only my instincts to celebrate.
If I fail, I have only my flaws to blame.
Everything under my possession,
Ne te quaesiveris extra, as they say
It's your life to do, your life to bear.
The real subjectivity of life is overwhelming;
Prospective consumes our frontal cortex
But there is no escape from this vacuum seal.
We see the faces of our own delight,
The know how of the here and now,
But we are too blind to look past our own perspectives.
Even when we fathom the hearts of others,
Our understandings are predisposed  to our own Identity.
Objectivity is a fleeting notion of reality, of truth
and its as though the ground we hold so dearly
Is constantly fleeing from our grasp.
Today we call this individualism,
a disconnect between one's self and society.
But I so selfishly and foolishly believe
that this chasm stems from being lied to so often.
Am I lying to myself or am I being lied to I do no know,
but it is important to understand that it does not matter
that nothing matters, because everything exists in my field of view.
The only question remains: am I correct
Or has the devil made me a fool?
But  this does not confirm nihilism
only hints at its initial potential.
Yet there are common truths that are irrefutable
no matter who you are, real or not:
The reality is the here and now,
No matter what ghosts or demons there may be.
They affect the consciousness constantly
indifferently to whether or not they are fraudulent or true.
And my experiences are true, the emotions are radical,
and even if everyone I know is a figment and interpretation,
they still hold a grasp onto my withering heart.
Wanderings
Lucy Wooding Jul 2018
What are you living for?

To operate like a minuscule cog in the gargantuan wheel of capitalism?
Like a mindless hamster slaving away 5 days a week.

Or to learn from vacuous minded socialites
That a woman’s empowerment begins with flaunting skin
Accumulating confidence through social media validation.

Are you living for a beige existence?
Where you station yourself in your birth town for the next 50 years
Wedding the first man who shows interest and bearing his children at the age of 21.

Are you tirelessly working to pay for that one bedroom flat
Situated in an overcrowded concrete jungle?
Social fulfilment sapped from your clutches.

Or for that luxury recliner
Which will take 10 years to pay off?

Are you living in ignorance?
Suppressing the knowledge that civil wars and mass genocides are manifesting every second
Yet you choose not to help fellow mortals?

Are you taking orders, or questioning instigators of austerity?
Fulfilling the anarchist rhetoric, demonstrating that you are not a doormat?

But really, what are you living for?
Next page