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Ian Johan-Gomez Mar 2016
I feel a grim satisfaction as mud splatters on my white shoes.
What an appropriate metaphor for early adulthood.

My problems are not my own.
The sociological imagination has never
seemed so applicable.
We’ve all been dosed up
On dashes of passion,
splashes of intelligence
and just enough anxiety and depression
to approach existential nihilism and
We’re fed these lies of individuality but
We Know
we are only products of our youth and culture,
ones of many in the long production line
We claim
We are Art,
but We Feel
we’re just generated from streams of code,
prepared to fight to the death for
some algorithm that doesn’t even matter
And so I protest
I can’t just be a number
I am flesh and blood,
my knees are buckling under the
weight of this artificial perfection.
I’m not just a number,
My eyes are staring at the
the marks that
determine my worth, knowing
success is my only option
i am not just a number
My sanity is sinking and
drowning and
constantly fighting to stay afloat
But I am not just a number. -
My mind tells me I’m not making it--
How are these other people making it?
I’m determining my worth
on sets of standards that are as worthy as dust
And it is with these standards i am told
I am just a number.

I feel like
I can no longer speak
because I’ve been
shouting
at the top of my lungs
I AM NOT JUST A NUMBER

But my voice
is too quiet
And the world
is too loud.

I’m so tired of trying to be heard.
Yet these words still sound better
when I scream them,
not just scrawl them down
on scraps of paper.


for someone so happy
I'm so very angry.
for someone so happy
I'm so very sad.
E H Edwards Aug 24
I am from a book,
From LeapPads and iPhones.
I am from the green high house
Rebuilt.
It felt alive.
I am from the grass,
The sunflower,
Looming, yellow.
I'm from the big dinners and bigger hearts,
From ****** and Brock,
And Sally and Bill.
I'm from teachers and artists,
From smelling pines and eating peas.
I'm from Catholics of England and Italy,
From soup and Shepard's pie.
I'm from Nana's lap,
The words of my mother
Next to the lake.
I am from my family
Kagami Jul 30
Dependency. A cruel fate for a young millennial.
In this country, karma means nothing
Ethics are fiction, as I've found out.
Relying on the manipulative rich man.
He's different for everyone.
Where do you get your checks from?
Ken Pepiton Jun 6
Axt would I, I sed yah soyam

Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me

nights like these past 7043,

Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood

So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too ****, U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind

field of unthinkable things,
back then

we have whiteout but it doesn't work here

My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets

and Fords.

This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan

Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores

Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see

everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]

lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.

I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,

I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed culty.

no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.

I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha

The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act

that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP

but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.

There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,

proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor

Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held

long long long before war was imagined, honor was.

A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?

Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,

Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff

He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."

From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>

Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit

I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as

next, twixt being and being possible,

realize

we do change things, in time, which,

if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind

mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead

be

--so there's been music all along
life's the song

skip a decade, like skippin' a grade

grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12

If I had a Hammer time, one message

one valiant try to be will smith,

Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch

Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.

If I had a hammer was the prayer,

MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin

Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust

dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory

of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****

This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio

When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from

deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…

What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)

I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,

realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.

I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan

O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?

We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby

so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin

This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place

at the center of you'n'all you know, your bubble but

--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is

beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old *** ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'

on the corner with the hourus girl's

Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or

a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's  
verdamte dead cat?

Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend

simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,

which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which

loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
****** Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH!

Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need

to, eventually, know all things.

Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'

Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,

He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-****** he,
bombin' invadin; he, was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined

Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.

Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else

Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.

BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't

yer killin me and I know where the next story started,

you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way

I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.

Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see

POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place,
as far as we know,

since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.

If you want my future, then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin

what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?

Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me

beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee

Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.

Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle

I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,

I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and
the meaning of every mystery unknown to man

eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE
the every mystery unknown to man

lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies

I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know

You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,

words are what we make things from.

Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me, drownd me
in just if I'd love linked

to the money machine of your dreams

had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,

I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.
I wandered into a sattelite radio 90's A-Z, kinda like those histories of philosophies old people listen to when they're ******. Oh, the moonshine experiment worked, FYI
It’s a postcard relationship
Just a snapshot really
Recognisable as the place
doesn’t really truly look like it
Wasn’t quite what was promised
Never growing to that imperfect domestic familiarity
Remaining pristine never getting beaten battered edges
Not sealed by the mundane
No deeper than a veneer
It’s an image of where you have been
A marker but little else
Do you ever truly know the person?
Can you be known ?
It doesn’t work out

So you visit somewhere new
You flick through the gift shop
And spin the postcard rack
You pick the next card to send
Lovely time, lovely weather
The perfect image that never seems quite right
And move on
Arisa Mar 11
When the smallest thing happens to me, I think:

"take my life away
just do it
i don't wanna be here anymore
like seriously,what the ****
kms."
Amanda Feb 17
Like a broken iPod
We cannot quite mend
I see only cliffs
Around every turn and bend
This is a stupid little bit I wrote back in high school... When iPods were still cool.
nja Jan 27
**** it.
(just do it)
****. Me.
U ****** her.
**** U!
******* everything *****, ****.
- A millennial's poem.
Annika J Dec 2018
Parents
Front seat
Complaining
They think I can't hear them
But I can
"Too expensive"
"Didn't want"
"Technology addiction"

Siblings
In the back
With the
New tech
Sometimes fighting
Grateful
But are they
Addicted?

Me
In the middle

Is it good
Is it bad
How far to go
Who to side with

Sitting in the crossfire
Between X and Z
Borderline Millennial
Without an army
sara May 2014
You cover yourself in a thousand tattoos
and then claim you're afraid of commitment
but they're there to stay, they're not going away
and you see the word 'love' as no different

once it's been said there's no taking it back
so you must be completely certain
that you'll feel the same way, the day after today
when you can't hide behind bedroom curtains

you ask to go slow
and say you'll let her know
when you're ready to for this to progress
you don't want any labels
just to someone to cradle
as you both quickly begin to undress

drinking and smoking to take off the edge
moaning and groaning whilst lost in the bed
your breathing is heavy, your back is all scratched
this is the life of *"no strings attached"
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