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Pablo Saborío Nov 2018
I understand.
That you are frustrated.
Alone like a dot.
In the puzzle of your routine.
I know.
How thoughts can become clocks.
The terrifying performance of repeat.
I share it.
Your idea of total estrangement.
Blonde avenues without a silver soul.
I believe you.
Those sharp ideas to break free.
To be ruled by pure impulse.
I’ve got your back.
That plan to draw meaning.
To assist others to pleasure.
I realize that too.
That you’re at the edge of the night.
That you’ve got goosebumps as stars on your skin.
I do not deny it.
The vastness of every unused minute.
Cold, the cold bored instant.
I share your opposition.
To the lake of doubt that drowns the hope.
To the ache of death that drives the howl.
I understand.
How small a part of life can sting.
I know.
That you are frustrated.
Alone like a dot  .
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
With its parched dreams,
beneath the zizzing sands,
the river waits for a surging swell
to take it to the labyrinths of a
new consciousness.

You choose your own course
when you crash into the
chasms of meaninglessness.

You hibernate to the still zone
trancing between words
when words fail to contain you.

As you flow through me,
you become the sacrarium
in the labyrinths of my consciousness
for me to diffuse in your soul’s stillness.
thelemonpolice Aug 2018
I gave myself an F
I've never had an F in anything
a straight-A student they said
But I was just a stressed student
Stressed a lot
Stressed at home because
Enough work is never enough
To get that "A"
Stressed at school because
They never taught enough
To get that "A"
Stressed at lunch because
I have nothing to say
To people who get A's easily
Other than how I'm struggling
To cope with this overwhelming fear
That I won't get an "A".
And the overwhelming desire I have
To get that "A".
And the painful knowledge that
I could be having fun and I'm wasting my youth and perhaps my entire life worrying about a letter on a piece of paper
As if I'm only worth a bit of ink on paper
As if life is graded
Because although I have A's
If I were to grade my life
I would give myself an "F"
an old poem I wrote during school exams... inspired by the poem in the perks of being a wallflower
MicMag Jul 2018

I fall
Into a bottomless pit

Of despair

Other times

It's a bottomless chasm
The intense realization of utter insignificance is profoundly distressing and in occasional brief moments infinitely insurmountable.
Dylan McFadden Mar 2018
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering

He danced upon his days
Like waves,
Without a ripple
In the end…

‘Cause times when he
Would come too close –
Feet nearly touching

He’d hide away
Into his dream
And scream
Without a sound
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering

He felt no wonder
About his life;
Nothing felt

‘Cause nothing could
Command his heart
Or pull him down
To stand

So ‘ever he just
Drifted there
In fog and
Foreign land
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering

He settled for a
Fairytale, but
Woke up feeling

‘Cause deep down in
The darkest depths –
An abyss of Truth

He knew that there was More
Than this:
The ever-expanding
But…weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
I like going up to 9th level of the parking deck across from where I live.
I always take the stairs so my blood is buzzing slightly at the top.
My favorite is when it’s windy; the wind mixes up the sounds and smells and dirt below and sends it far away, cleansing the air.
I like looking down at the road that I walk on everyday, with the perspective of a bird, rather than a person.
Watching from above, far enough away that I can no longer hear the people's footfalls, mindless chatter, raucous laughter, see their expressions, their clothing brands, their incessant cell phones.

Watching them take infinitesimal steps across the street or cars take a corner too sharply just to save half a second reminds me that I too am an ant.

Going nowhere.

Doing nothing of importance.

Fluttering from one place to another with the weight of a jury on my shoulders. Believing that my footsteps echo across the world, shaking the ground beneath everyone's feet to cause earthquakes, when in fact, they are almost inaudible.

I know it's time to go when the lights turn on, reminding me that I can only stay removed from society for a short while. Thoreau returned to civilization, the Pevensies left Narnia, Caesar went back to Rome.

A butterfly lay dead in the stairwell as I hurried down. I wondered how it had gotten stuck inside and how long it had flapped in anguish before it fell from the air to rest on the ground until the wind blew it away.
Josh Jul 2017
Another 20p in the jukebox
Another has-been song
The bar is full of people
Each one moving along
They exist, satisfied
In their own small bubble
Each person is alone
This is what we call a life
This is all we've ever known
Josh Jul 2017
Four shots of ***
Then I write
Grandiose, I soliloquise
And my pen tracks across the page
Talking of being forgotten
As they themselves shall be
Then, my mind afire, and exhausted
I collapse, into the oblivion of sleep
This is but practice for death
I wake, and the process begins anew
Josh Jul 2017
I came, or was ******
Into the world
A half formed thing
I have limped through life
The waters of the universe
Slip through my fingers
I cannot cup my left hand
To catch the falling stars
Nor have I, all my brain
With which to comprehend
The nothing, that is our existence
I have existed, set back
Striving, for chances
To be, the same
I have thrown away
Gold gilt books, of wisdom
And sweet fruits of life
To follow others, to rot
And ruination, to be in company
To feel normal, and be not alone
Josh Jul 2017
I am a chance
Standing on the back of great improbability
Formed by sheer coincidence
And the random vastness of the universe
Yet I am supposed to
In meaning, purpose, no
How may I?
My very essence
What mystics call a soul
Is but the product
Of a million, random
Bizzare happenings
That impressed themselves
Forcefully upon my psyche
How then, if this, is 'life'
May I believe
In meaning, or purpose
How, I wonder
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