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Mr Trismegistus Dec 2016
I asked the man of the Light
How the dead do tread;
He looked at me with empathy,
And this is what he said:

Earth’s little offspring,
Back to earth they ran;
But of that born in heaven,
*To heaven returns again.
-credit to Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations for the italicized words
JR Rhine Oct 2016
We're bored like monks
in the margins
of ancient scripture.

We want to leave behind lazy hieroglyphs
and accidental red herrings
feigning illumination

rendered by the deviousness of time
in its enclave,
running a brush of flaky gold paint
over delicate decadence
and sprinkling dust like a fairy--

we are to believe it is all
some ancient treasure.

We prance in the ether of the material world
in junkyards where we sift through the wreckage
coddling memories like drying uteruses,
realizing our generation will not leave behind artifacts
worthy of nostalgia's ensconcing embrace.

With that realization we weep and

We continue to dig.
a common practice is subscribed to at the place
why on earth they do it defies one's mind space
over an extended period one has seen their escapade
which has the appearance of a staged parade

each person clocks in with something to show
then they'll remove it off the submission's row
how fascinating for one to amusingly sight
it'll happen both by morning and beneath lamp light  

just a few minutes ago one saw this very thing
being openly displayed inside the writer's ring
a piece was put up for everyone's eyes to review
without any notice the work vanished from view

on not being able to find its new dwelling spot
one wondered about this their most interesting plot
a mere peek a boo is all they'll let you see
before they erase what was in their lines lee

you've got to be quick to read the material
if you are not you'll miss the fast paced serial
one knows the capers that they do imbibe in
that's why one watches with the broadest grin
Poetic T Oct 2016
Humanity is losing its infinite
wisdom of recognition.

The penny were losing is more
precious than any material.

We are defeated in the essence
of our humanity that is dwindling.

"Our humanity is that which echoes on our being,
*"The substance that makes us more than not,
athena Oct 2016
you were shrieking about your problems
your teeth were all about this material world
everything was all about you
because that's how you wanted it
you loved yourself
and only yourself

you were spitting money of all currencies and kind
you adore them like how i adore humankind
you boast loudly about the material things you own
you loved your things so much, you turned into one
and you think people would actually love you

boisterous laughs were hidden behind the old brick wall
the you i used to know were a pigment of the past
you are now pitch-black, self centered and selfish

the pit can simply be covered with mud or a beautiful plant
but you dig deeper and fall and ask for succor
because that's what you crave for after all
-because money, that's all you have.
GaryFairy May 2016
what others see as treasure
i wish not to obtain
if you point out an asset
i don't see any gain
i won't go to any measures
my goal is to sustain
i don't have many belongings
but i don't have any chains
where others find pleasure
material mundane
in a world so flamboyant
all i need is plain
Madeline Rook May 2016
When I realised he wasn’t come back my world changed
Everything stopped
Nothing made sense anymore
My phone remained silent for days

When I realised he wasn’t coming back nothing made sense
Everything was him
Nothing was as good as him
No one could compare to him

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I stopped
I stopped caring
I stopped focusing
I just wanted him to say hey one more time

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I craved him
I craved his touch
I craved his kisses
I craved him

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I cried
Cried because he mattered to me
Cried because no one else had mattered like that before
Cried because I’d never felt heartbreak before

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I stayed who I was
I stayed true to my beliefs
That I do not need a man to make me who I am
Put his memory to the side of my mind

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I relaxed
I knew now that I only had to worry about but me
I lived for me and no one else
I was free

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I missed him
Maybe he’s gone now
Maybe he won’t come back
But I miss our memories

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I wrote
Wrote poetry and stories
Maybe he’s gone now
But **** he makes for good material
Unreal Society Mar 2016
Stuck inside the maze of life, were material value keeps the people slaved. You get so caught up with the distractions around, you fail to realize the price you pay.

It's time to disconnect the computer wires and step outside the captive frame. To no longer be dependent on, the software society's programmed in your brain.

I know the plan the hidden hand, keeps in play to keep us slaves. Keep the people dumb and in constant fear, they are easier to control this way.

The plan calls for mindless drones with mounting debt, so you continue to work and pay interest for the rest of your life. Living pay check to pay debt, in a vicious cycle until you die.

Credit is a weapon used in the separation of the masses. The goal is to collapse the middle class forcing them to join the poor. They give out loans and extend out credit, so people can live a life they can't afford.

Make no mistakes about the truth. From birth your programmed and trained to live this way. It's sad to say a credit score determines your wealth now a day.
Poem By: KLOYAL Est 03-2016
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