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Reem Jan 15
dear you human,
whatever kind of human
you may be.
(literally whatever kind)

i begin with i imagine a world,
a world where we have mastered and taught the art of thinking and the art of feeling.

the kind of world that enables a journey to explore the oneself in,
it's time we begin to look for something inside.

to go to a time of reflection and creation,
let's go back to the time we spoke to eachother in poetry,
the time we thought what we felt and felt what we thought,
a time we cared about all.

let's go back to the time that uniqueness vividly excited us,
a time we all understood that to be good is to do good
and to do good is to think and therefore feel good.

and if a time of such never existed let's create it together,
collectively as one using the whole of our unique individuality.

because today we live in a world, in an environment created using the collective unique individual thinking and feeling of generations that so much hated the oneself that they were subconsciously and significantly able to avoid the practice as whole.

p.s. harmonic oneness
think and feel please
i wake up
put on the mask
it's me
decorated with
a slight smile,
mona lisa style
i look into my own eyes
"hi mirror me"
a handsome *******
looking back at me
two of me
we dance like it's
the end of the ******* world
it might as well be
i don't care
if they hate me
i have myself and he has me
a pair of handsome *******
dancing without a ****
masked freaks
distorted mirror images
so to speak
from "side effects" ©2021
Aerien Nov 2020
patchwork girl dreaming
piecing together the scraps of silk
frayed ribbons of broiderie anglais
the tears of velvet darker than midnight
squares of sackcloth hessian made to scrape
against skin both thick and paperthin

patchwork girl sewn together
with a golden thread and a needle finer than hate
embroidered edges with floss spun by spiders
from clouds of dreams, flower thoughts, starwonders
and fragile pockets of maybe hidden beneath morning dew
stitches all lose, then too pulled too tight

she is together
she is all fallen apart
the soft shape of a doll
the tender shape of a girl

hold her, not an armful of scraps
     but something precious, one of a kind
          couture
Jeroen Janssen Apr 2020
Born as one, will die alone, but what may come in time?
A loner for eternity, perhaps a clever mind
Might turn into a brilliant thinker or a thoughtful soul
We watch the journey of lonely men until they fade and go

At best a man is on his own, where he can touch the sky
For what he wants to be in life, he’ll find the wings to fly
To wisdom and awareness
To love and even happiness

But what if the herd closes in, guided by one mind
It shares a common cause not slightly challenged or refined
Just follow the leader
Reckless, the screamer

Common sense is greater good but only if a sense
Is powered by a single mind and not by all his friends
Cleverness is quickly lost in expanding crowd
Sadly, most common senses are those that are most loud

The power of the masses should never be denied
Shouting in a crowd is bliss, but please don’t lose your mind
You’re still an individual
Please, be the individual
Any comments on the English grammar or flaws in using this language, please submit it.
riccardo cravero Dec 2019
Life is a game
An odd one,
Elastic rules,
Different editions,
Some slight variations
Here and there
In packaging and content.

It is a game
In which nobody wins
And nobody loses
But everyone
Is nonetheless a player.

Yeah, you have
To think of life as a game:
Nor because it is always fun
Or because you can
Score some points.
Forget the scores, forget the rules.
Those are the ways
To try to stop playing.

But life is a game
That you can play
Observing what happens to you
And push yourself
A bit further
Than you were before.
Try not to be ahead of others
Or ahead of your time
Or ahead of whatever
Someone thinks you should accomplish:
Be ahead of yourself
From time to time
You will find yourself
A better player
At your own game.
aurora kastanias May 2017
Seclusion leads to wonder
Forgetting the sound of my voice,
As speaking loses purpose
And observation becomes my only drive.

A square with benches surrounded by trees
Pebbles clattering as kids would climb on
The mighty statue of an ancient judge.
A spot I made my own.

Random people passing by, few
Take shelter from chaos and heat,
Absorbed in their own minds
A frantic world seemingly leading to madness.

A ***** smelly sashaying woman seats on a bench,
Places her ******* garbage bags next to her
While rambling incomprehensible words of anger.
‘That’s where solitude leads you!’ I presumptuously think.

A slender tall middle-age man, just as ***** and smelly,
Comes up to her shouting she does not care enough
About him. She refuses to talk and walks away.
‘No matter who you are, feelings are always the same!’

A man in his sixties and a young sunny girl
Take their place on the bench, chatting away.
He narrates experiences she enchantedly absorbs,
‘A beautiful father and daughter scene’ I naively assume.

As they smile tenderly, his hand swiftly glides under her skirt,
She approaches him to kiss his ears and neck.
Such warmth, delicacy and joy heat my heart
Wondering what the judge might have to say.

As I take notes of my observations I raise my eyes,
A lonely loud sobbing kid is now sat on the bench.
His mother crossly approaches to scold him,
‘Another disrespectful brat’ I shamefully determine.

Once he finishes beating his feet on the ground
He looks up at the lady seeking an embrace. He gets consolation
For losing a toy, his departed father had carved a little while ago.
‘We all miss our father at some point.’

Those benches have been my parlour for many years,
Random people passing by, absorbed in their own minds
A frantic world seemingly leading to madness,
Until the day I realised I was one of them.

All these people populate my being,
They are the reason why I sense and live
In harmonic peace, feeling the inevitable unity
With a universe inhabited by such extraordinary yet

Fragile creatures.
Nerve Oct 2016
I kept it to myself after you
Heard about the suicide of Lou
Making fun of him was all I used to do
I felt bad about myself & needed someone new
So I told some kid to step off
Remembered his name was Phillip and he had a nasty cough
recognized years ago he hadn't been so soft
but it didn't matter so I left the loft
Decided to put the ***** side on freeze
But never actually gotta chance to seize
see right after that tease
He never showed again you see
Gossip traveled over that he had disease
Convinced Everything I said turned lethal
Low esteem so I popped a pill
My parents made me work a lil
Never moved out of my parents until
They found me getting a refill
I blanked forward staring at the windowsill
Perhaps my brain was always ill
They said that I'm unacceptable
If I worked more they let me stay till
I was clean and could pay my own bills
Fast forward-
The story goes onward
in my head I always knew I had killed
Some pathetic actions made my heart filled
Learning the hard way's proof you did some evil.
(This was fictional)
Ryan Cheng Mar 2016
Stillness
A cocoon of mundanity
Built on concrete
And
The fossils of butterflies past

Driven by Benjamin
The cycle goes
Fermented hopes and dreams
Within a membrane of glass

But on the ground
Is where you'll see
All caterpillars may have the chance
To fly free
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