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Justin Racine Sep 23
All Philosophy Is


                                But Can You Grow Anything


      A Little

Someone asked me
"What does happiness feel like?"
and it took me a while
to answer.

then I said,
"I'm not sure but
I hope happiness feels
like what a fat kid feels
when eating cake"
Mrs Anybody Jul 17
i hid
my true
and laughter

but your
playful comment
******* hurt
also check out my other poems! :)
Achick Jul 3
Fool me once shame on you
Don’t you dare think I’ll let you fool me twice?
Okay, that was the last time
But you won’t fool me for a third time!
Now I feel dumb
The universe chimes in playing a song
Oops!! I did it again!!
Now the universe has jokes
Alright mighty adversary,
You won’t fool me again
I swear that was the last time!
My head held low in shame
I’m done playing this game
Stupid jack in the box
Gets me every time
I just wanted to write something funny
Lela May 7
I am so mad that I have to live in a world where
**** jokes are funny
catcalling is normal
touching with no permission is not a big deal
and where boys complain that they have to ask for consent
But feminism is bad, right?
DEW May 3
A gauntlet, of sorts...
The proverbial frog in the ***, I was.
The temperature of life went from heaven to hell,
and I boiled and drowned in the hate I thought was love.

Question one: who prepared the broth?
Answer: Me...

Stuck in the endless quackery of bottomless insanity.
Tasting the brutal shenanigans of deviant savagery.
I came upon the realization that *** was a tapestry,
that I've been weaving since I was in nappies and won't give up gladly,
but I obsess over the embroidery and the glistening femininity,
what I now know to be delusions of romance and calamity.

Question two: who proved to be unwilling to love in the end?
Answer: Me...

Last question you knave, you hopeless bumpkin.
You wayward host of tasteless pumpkins.
My tactless whims for stagefright dumplings.
Deflated effigies of, "Oh... sweet nothings."
Darling, you crazy, you an expert on bluffings,
Teetering on the cliff, with your pinstriped stuffing.
I carry my shorts on the inside, on the outside I'm long,
Word play is horse ****, but if you understand me, you're wrong.

Question three: who sold their soul for entertainment in the end?
Answer: We...
It's nice to write another one of my nonsense, satirical poems again.
I gave a slight social-critic edge to it, but in reality I tried to focus on my own failings in life, my own troubles. Yet we do not live in a vacuum.
We all share the same mistakes, troubles, guilts and dreams.
So this poem tries to encapsulate that into the idea of taking an exam at the end of one's life to atone for all the ******* we've put ourselves through in this world.
Taking responsibility for what we do/have done in this world is the first step toward solving our issues, yet imagine only taking responsibility at the end of all things when nothing can be done but pay penance. A sad thing indeed...
Ryan May 3
Some blokes are full of Dad jokes,

They have a wealth of these and are delivered with the corny expertise that only a Dad has.

They get a grin on their face as they lean forward like they’re about to say something profound.

“I used to be addicted to the Hokey Pokey, but I turned myself around.”

“What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground Beef.”

“I hate Russian Dolls, they’re so full of themselves.”

“Apparently, pet birds are popular this Christmas, they’re flying off the shelves.”

Passed down from Grandads to fathers,

One-liners for us to consume,

It’s the closest thing some have to a family heirloom.

“What did the first African phone user say? Kenya hear me now?”

“A cat's favourite Queen song? Don’t stop meow.”

When reversing his car, “This takes me back.”

Wedding speech, “It’s been an emotional day, even the cakes in tiers.”

There've been so many down the years,

Yes, they’re cringy but we should enjoy them while we can,

You never know what's in store, and they’ll be a time when we’d love to hear them just once more.
Beginner who is looking for some opinions and constructive feedback.
IMCQ May 2
It can be done.
A poem without heartache.
I can fill it with hopefulness and desire.
The void isn't there if I fill it with life.
The rain doesn't fall unless I will it to.
If words can hurt, words can heal.
If I close my eyes I wont see I'm alone.
I'll try again tomorrow.
I've been challenging myself to write at least one poem/short story/script a day during quarantine. This was my tongue-in-cheek response to my best friend, who said to try to write something hopeful and happy for a change.

Dear Math,

Solve your own

I am not a

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