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Man Feb 15
I don't know what you were doing,
But you look like a dog
That just stole the roast
From right off the table!
Actually, I know it,
I'm just giving it a better face.

In that mercy, is it grace?
Is it blessing? Are you saved?

Anchors like weights,
Writs from writers acting
Behind the curtains.
I fear they don't even know it's a play,
But they're aware there's stakes.
Whatever press representative
That today flirt nationally
Are riddled with stains.
Very few apart from the alternative,
Though they have well suffered
By those who are dependents.

Who is guilty? Who is judging?
About the news or the common mentality of the day?
sell me
sell me
sell me something sweet
sell me something x
and i'll lap it up
like i've never tasted something
sweeter than-
and i'll get drunk
on it
vomiting something deep
wishing to be in
never to be parted with
and i'll get drunk
and ***** it-

sell me something x
sell me something ***
sell me something less
sell me something next
and i'll lap it up
like i've never tasted
like i've never dreamt-
and i'll get drunk
on it
watching what little i have in me
swimming away
in a pool of me
swimming away
in a pool of me
swimming away
in a pool of me.
Anais Vionet Jan 20
Yay!! There’s snow on Science Hill.
Finally - snow, I love it. Cold, I love it.

Science says men evolved from apes.
Maybe I evolved from polar bears
or those abominable snow people
—yeti—that no one can photograph.

You can’t just reject that outright,
say the odds are minuscule,
just because it’s new and edgy.
I mean, where’s your science—
your unbiased, clinical perspective?

We could end up in the National Geographic.
This kind of story is very much their aesthetic.
I can provide lots of material—I have baby photos
and I’m not uncomfortable about the pressure.

Maybe it’s time to put your voice out there.
The world always needs the comfort of new voices.
You could influence social media—everyone wants THAT.
This is a buffalo, a skibidi, blessing in disguise.
.
.
Songs for this:
Young And Dumb by The Bird and the Bee
Unlike me by Kate Havnevik
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 01/18/25:
minuscule = very small
Heidi Franke Dec 2024
Engrossed in
Electronic word game
Famed on phone

Ad delay my
Path to next level
Dropping my attention

Sudden rush of
Nothingness in
My blood

No screen time
Felt a bottomless
Bleak pit

I fell until
I measured my breath
Of existence leaving

All defined on
False electric bait
Clips of wins and loss

Almost threw up
In my felt emptiness
Messy messy power grab

Measure me alive
Today and Now
Not then or ever
Playing a number matching game on my phone. Engrossed daily in getting to higher levels. How far can I get? The further I get to the higher number the less I am attached to my self. Losing all definition. Realizing the power of myself I give away to a meaningless device.
Adam Kinsley Dec 2024
Antisocial mediums
Sacrifice to the brazen bull
All for one, and one more fleeting night
Light the Tinder up

Stalk me on TikTok
My eyes haven't Faced
A Book in my
Entire life

I Reddit on X
I'm addicted to ***
In an Instant:
My morals aren't worth a Gram

Before we Chat
Let me hide my real self
In a Snap:
I'm Linked In to this charade

I Draft a King's self portrait in my own perception
Jamie Foxx made me do it
To keep my mind off this:
I will lease another iPhone on credit...
Did I say "buy"? I meant, "trade in."
Safana Dec 2024
In the heart of nature’s grand design,
Lies a wisdom, ancient and divine.
From the whispering winds to the ocean’s tide,
Intelligence in every leaf, every stride.

Mountains stand tall, with secrets they keep,
Rivers carve paths, through valleys they sweep.
Nature adapts, evolves with grace,
A dance of life, in every place.

Artificial minds, we now create,
Learning from nature, we innovate.
Algorithms mimic the patterns we see,
In forests, in skies, in the deep blue sea.

Neural networks, like roots, they spread,
Seeking knowledge, where data is fed.
Machines now learn, adapt and grow,
Reflecting the intelligence nature bestows.

Yet, as we build this digital mind,
Let us remember to be kind.
For in nature’s wisdom, we find our guide,
To create with care, and not with pride.

Nature’s intelligence, a timeless art,
Guides our journey, as we start.
In every code, in every line,
Nature’s wisdom, forever shines.

Welcome to The Nature Being Intelligence Centre

By
Dr. Diviney
(Carol Natasha Diviney Ph.D.)
Nick Moore Oct 2020
The old world is crumbling,
fear not I
always gave me comfort
to look into the sky.

Many fear the chaos,
give freedom away,
believe whatever
the media say.

Remember that tower?
there is higher power,
God has struck the hour.
Let me send (d)ick picks
Let me send (d)ick picks
Let me send (d)ick picks

Or


Send me new(des)
Send me new(des)
Send me new(des)



Does this annoy you
If so report some who says this **** To you!
Anais Vionet Dec 2024
Our land of stars and stripes, now glows,
with screens that flicker in hallowed halls.
Entranced humans shuffle, with eyes fixed below,
on small gadgets that have us enthralled.

Should the Statue of Liberty, our symbolic girl,
be holding a smartphone up to the world?
While tweets fly like eagles and hashtags swirl,
foreign disinformation trends as fast as it’s purled.

In lunch halls, real conversations take rest,
as influence is sought—in hoity-toity, binary quest.
Friends are backdrops—originality in short supply
as likes and shares make our dopamine fly.

America’s zombies, though ******* drained,
shuffle endlessly on, with Wi-Fi stimulated brains.
Once the land of the free, we’re now the land of tech
with minds wrecked by truths unchecked.

As we rock and sway—the new robot way—
will our old, analog-republic simply fade away?
.
.
Songs for this:
Airhead by Thomas Dolby
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_01.mp3
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 12/04/24:
hoity-toity = snooty or pretentious
Erwinism Dec 2024
some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos.

i know you hate it, so i will make you remember.

how you lolled your tongue at the sight of garlic in your porridge when we’ve got nothing else to eat on a rainy day.

bowls of getting by squeezed out of tired pores, crated palms with puddles of a won day, same palms like coveted napkins on the lap of the rich wiping the long breath of hopelessness from your cheeks.

reed-thin body,
bones as if wafers,
yet we sprung forward.
not a care as we watched
the jowly cheeks of wanting
puff up.

how hand-me-down yesterdays were worn—a tradition tied around a last name like All Souls’ Day candles. they peer from behind the stars, thoughts of them sparkle, they are reminded of fights, they are reminded why they left in the first place, just in case boredom pays them a visit.

i’ve come to know, the most practical way to get a golden ticket to the land of happiness is to have it handy in my heart.

but you locked it up in a gilded cage and you chased a star not knowing it’s a sunset and it just kept dipping into peaks jutting out of nowhere, you had worn out your heels and you were left with nothing but midnight instead of holding on to your blanket and watch a new day spill out of the sky.

you were insane that way.

remember the shame how magic belts turned us red and purple and upright, and how we were the grinch who stole baby Jesus away from his nativity set and got caught and were taught grownups pick on kids who didn’t know better?

remember how mathematics predetermined our future as undisputed champs of failure courtesy of our clairvoyant aunts?

it mattered little—
inconsequential, so to speak.
we heaved our arms,
hoisted our dreams
onto our scrawny frames.
our bulging chests
were enough
for us to beat,
like bongos,
we fanned the flames
until they voices
throughout the milky way.
our mother
in her innocence believed
we were capable
of many a great things
between the better parts
of her mood swings.

we were mirrors more than we were humans portioned in parts bitter and beauty, we rummaged through every chance hoping we could unearth change, but we never did until it was too late.

yet, i always had your hand in mine. we dropped out of the line and strayed away from paths stamped with footprints of approval and wandered on roads no one can see but our hearts knew.

remember the day you let go so you could hold bottles thinking they were looking glasses, thinking they fermented clarity aged in oak barrels, and day after day you took a drop until you had an ocean dissolving you?

remember how i found real estate in the promises of a girl, how i grew a house there, but then, time mistook her for dorothy and blew her away like a tumble **** into the arms of another boy?

how i bawled out and how you had a ball at my expense, laughing at my silence at open mic night?

remember when we heard a drop of a needle the size of the moon hurtling down the earth when father sat up on his bed for the last time with his eyes open as if he saw an unseen door somewhere. somehow, we heard him skittering away while he left us a fertilizer for everyone to cry about?

remember how we forgot. we dreamt under the same roof before our feet carried us away.

into the mist went we,
threads began to fray,
we forgot.

i will make you remember,
before all that i am unravels.
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