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Shame Feb 28
How many minutes
will I live through this mess?
It's a grim question
unanswered as of yet.
How many sleepless nights
will I begrudgingly survive?

Way to go, me. Sad brain.
Pontificate suicide.
She's the ***** beast
with the pike teeth,
picking up on the vein.
She will not leave. She, Me.
Forever & I.
Shame Feb 26
How am I
still walking
still breathing
thoughts & feelings?
How am I
still drinking
still eating
in the earth's stomach?
Feeding myself to feed you.

Feeding myself to feed you.

. . .

Wet fingertip offered to the wind itself,
summon me personal heaven,
please, summon me
personal heaven.

Flat foot big toe tapping out the pulse
of the bare ground on concrete,
asking heaven of
the soil. Pleading.

Feeding myself to feed you.
Happily happening,
as but a terrible chance.

Happily happening.
There may be those who have more than you
However only in material value
They might possess a bigger bank balance
Drive a better car
Live in a luxury mansion adorned in splendour
Wear attire bearing famous names
But they will never be as free as you
Even if you were a bird in a cage
You'd still be freer than they are
Because you hold freedom of mind
Written by Sean Achilleos 24 January 2019©
Sean Achilleos' Music is available on the following platforms:
Amazon, Apple Music, iTunes, Deezer, Google Play, Pandora, Saavn, SoundCloud, Spotify, Tidal, YouTube, Jango Radio, Nicovideo (Japan), IQIYI (China) and YOUKU (China)

Sean Achilleos' Book 'An Affair with Life' is obtainable from the following platforms:
Smashwords, Amazon, Wordery, Kobo, Exclusive Books, Takealot, HelloPoetry, Loot, Overdrive, Bokus, Barnes and Noble
IncholPoem Jan 14
Maternal and  material

Material  needed

    for factory  and
    human life's
lifelong  requirement
for   material.

  For matte  to  be
or  the  empty innovativeness
                   of  mind
  required  material.

For  apparel  business
               first  basic  thing  was  

Also  for  love

   attraction  and  sentiment
are  two  material.

A  childless wife's
sister's  solid
material  is
her  maternal.

Which may  not
    out  the  hope  for  the
wife  is  only  for her

A  daughter's relation
      with  wifeless  foreigner
ma  turn  into  maternal.

A  sister's  relation
with  her  brother's  boyfriend
will  turn  into maternal.
A ringing in my ear
The soft cry of children
My innocence slaughtered
Where did time go

I lay here awake
Aware of the mess
Who dragged me from my bed?
My fists are cut and ******
And the bottle lay empty
Another night out?
Butchered tree in my pocket
There’s more to it than this

An endless road lie yonder
The heat waves friendly
I see you but hear nothing
I don’t wave back

Another left behind
Learning new ways to walk
Have we forgotten how to live?
Worshiping false idols
Media is a speedy vehicle
Inebriated driver behind the wheel
The minds of the masses
A thirst never quenched

I laugh as I know
And wander off the road
I think I found a new place to go
The land of maize
But I’m not lost

I have no place to be
Do you?

The new place one finds amidst the chaos of society can either be physical or mental
Cam May 2018
To those days of thinking,
where something on our mind
just makes us stand,
and stare.
Where we feel lonely and empty,
yet surrounded,
by the furniture,
the walls and the clutter,
the clutter we continue to procrastinate about,
“I’ll get it later,” repeating to ourselves,
The mess grows more everyday.
She is broken,
heart broken,
she recently got the news on note,
the note she holds at the tips of her fingers
says written in black ink,
“move out, it’s over.”
She had just woken up,
to a lonely bed and a lonely house.
She slips on her yellow and blue stripped underwear
and white collared shirt before
she approaches what was once the living room
full of furniture and decorations,
What is now filled with her belongings.
Clothes, paintings, pictures,
all scattered,
in and pouring out the brown-worn out boxes.
It is quiet and still
like the painting left hung on the ***** wall,
she stands,
and thinks.
this is material thoughts. a poem based off of one of my favorite artist, sangram majumdar’s paintings, “Material Thoughts”
Bharti Singh May 2018
Yesterday, less was more and merry
Today, more is less and dreary
Tomorrow, happiness will be history
Jonathan Nouse Apr 2018
Hes got the car.
Hes got the bike.
He can give you every little thing
That you love to think you like.

But theres something he can't give
Something I'll forever provide
Can he grant you true happiness?
Cause thats a thing I have supplied.

The smile on your face
Is nothing more than a mask.
To hide your sadness within
And its more than an easy task.

He can provide you a house
But never provide a home.
It will make your heart heavy.
And make your heart roam.

Can you find yourself happy
Knowing the honest truth?
That youll be forever truly sad
Without someone to grant you youth.

They say home is where the heart is
And i bet youre feeling homeless
Because the roof you live under
Is making you feel heartless.

But thats okay.
Im homeless too
Because my heart desires one thing
And that one thing
is You.
Honest truth about my situation
WeFeelFine Feb 2018
Perhaps my expectations for you
are impossible.
Perhaps you are blind to the desire
in my eye.
Maybe you are deaf to the disappointment
in my sigh.
Maybe your budget isn't
so suasible.

If you would read my body,
Look into my mind,
We would be great
And all would be fine.
Though it probably should be,
It just isn't enough
To say that you're mine,
I need material stuff.

Roses of red,
I prefer blue.

And the finest of chocolate,
A large teddy bear, too.

Shower me with the money you've spent,
It's not a big deal,
Only a present.

I promise not to be greedy,
Or selfish,
Or stale.

I won't raise my expectations even further on the scale.

But you must keep me happy,
Satisfied in every way.
You can't do that for me?

Well what else can I say...

I promise I loved you,
In good times and bad.
And I will always reminisce
The times that we've had.

Oh, I will miss you.
I promise, I will.
But your wallet has emptied.
And my love has gone still.
Valentines Day with a Gold Digger.
Nylee Feb 2018
If you call tomorrow
The day of love
Its okay to forget
  there is love
all the other days
Because no one celebrates
those remaining days
  as commercial and material as
one-two does tomorrow.
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