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Parker Vance Feb 23
The word of God
Is neon now-
It screams odious
Love to the silent
Collection of limbs
Beneath it.

Falls in irradiated
Waves, reaches the
Sedate, the wanderers
Of Asphalt Nightmares,
At last.

They can hardly hear it
Over the mumble of voices.
They shift, leave by way
Of saturated, naked streets
In weariness.

The new God is
Neon- but all the same
Unheard; It's violent lights
Looking to the morally
Righteous; finds
No one.
Joseph Sopholaus Dec 2020
Sine arte
A satire against modernity in the arts

O modern beast our captive arts release,
The laws of Nature wished your reign to cease.
What beauties does this modern art restores
By turning vestals young to Russian ******.
How strange the painter draws his new reforms 5
Reducing Nature’s shapes to foggy forms.
All, I may add, by rambling thoughts conceived
If Nature’s order’s razed the goal’s achieved.
‘‘What then?’’ A tasteless judge if dared to ask,
To which the answer wears pretentious mask: 10
‘‘Dear Sir! ’Tis art, all ***** mere symbols made,
And *****, though crude, denotes the father’s shade’’
Go Man admire the fruits of twisted state,
Interpret ***** as something deeply great.
Let ***** Cupid stab his precious heart 15
To make our poesy more interesting art.
Let Cyrus wreck the might of Shakespeare’s throne,
And use her tongue to lick his hallowed stone.
Thus, give the verses blank to frenzied beasts,
Or let Rihanna burn Miltonic seats. 20
A simple critic might her craft enjoy,
But witty minds oft do their gift employ.
New Cornus comes with broken tools to teach
Yet none can bear to hear postmoderns preach.
They mumble days upon the wage and race 25
For them the world’s a strife, that is the case.
Ujjal Mandal Oct 2020
Ujjal Mandal, India

The Hollow man makes most noise
Of ignorance than wisdom
Like frenzied clouds
In the sky.
Kyle T Oct 2020
Will there be a time when
All this technology ends

When the screens go down
We all mute the sound

Will we return to a time
Not forged in financial design

When the ROI and the GDP
Big money banks we no longer see

Or the interest rates and credit lines
Hidden fees and holdback fines

And tell them, when I turn my shoulders to the night,
I sent you to discuss the market's yield's human right
It was better when it was better.
Maria Mitea Sep 2020
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
Give me the buy,
In your fancy store,
Give me the buy,
I can be mooor
I can make it feel mooor,
Poor craving soul.
Wants to buy,

I want to buy in your store,
Something mooor,
Give me mooor,
mooor, mooor, mooor,
buy and buy, mooor,
I can be mooor,
I can make it feel mooor,
So much hope
For my soul,

Something to like,
the next moment
I don’t throw it away,
Looking to buy
For my craving soul
I don’t know,
Somebody help me!
Get out my soul!
Out from your store!

Close the store door!
For my craving soul,
I’ll pay you,
Just close that door!
For this craving Soul
I don’t know,
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
I don’t know.
Inspired from a shopping trip I had yesterday at Winners store. The avid shoppers inspired this writing. There was a song rolling “ Give me more Happiness .“ I ended up with this poem in my pocket and more money for me ... 🧚‍♀️.
Logic to the dissonant, confetti into flames
watch it turn to ash.
The disquieted don’t want comfort,
they want to protect their definition of purity
and simply, for the complexities of the universe
to serve them solely.

Dissatisfaction becomes identity,
a vice to sate,
just one more redemptive hit
and they’ll sleep
dreaming of their idyllic reconstruction of reality.

Everyone’s a visionary
blind to the piteous state
of their mass-conformist unity fantasy,
forgetting that autonomy isn’t only in the mind of the beholder.
Ces Jul 2020
Pondering existence itself:
mere deadweight for "success"
this narrative of the times
must be upheld as sacred

The religion of modernity is that
of willful blindness taken
as a virtue

or so we are led to believe:

that it is the mark of a healthy man
to never use his brain!
Kagey Sage Jul 2020
This body's not eternal
and this mind just might be along with it
soul just might decay with the brain
Sparks of life become ash
and fertilize the lake and sands
where my last wish will flow
by who knows who will be
the last of my loved ones
You're my purest afterlife hope

I sit here in uncomfortable indecision
feeling every itch and twitch, T.V. off
trying to listen to the cellular hum
to reach peace of mind
give in to the fractals and functions
and blaze when it gets too bad

It's the present we forget
I'm always in-between doing this or that
waiting for inspiration
waiting for the stars to align
when my shuttle works fine
Jana Pelzom Jul 2020
The Internet is a scary place,
There are drug deals;
Illegal *** tapes;
Some crazy cults that send you (if you fall)
hair twine and bloodied Voodoo dolls;
Dead bodies out for auctions
(Who knows how they died);
Do not forget
The slavery rings that still exist,
And a bidder that sits on their cell
now called a room,
But these are mostly unknown.
People complain of **** sites
Though don’t educate otherwise,
They instead protest *******
and some, showcasing of certain arts;
Isn’t it terrifying?
There’s more degradation on YouTube
Compared to the Red,
That goes by unchecked;
There’s little children worried
why they’re not as skinny
Or worse yet why there are not enough likes.
I think I’m lucky,
I am not as affected,
Yet here I had sat,
Thinking what would these blurred faces like;
Is it a good story;
Or a catchy rhyme;
How can I make them smile?
No! Stop and think!
Now I Know the internet is scary,
I forget as I’m looking away
The noose is hung around my neck;
I’m caught like a fish by the Net
Or a fly stuck in this Mysterious Web.
WWW (world wide web). “www” in Japanese texting culture is how we showcase that we are laughing, an English equivalent of hahaha or the Thai 555 or the Spanish jajaja
www ©️2020 Jana Pelzom
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