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Michael McLean Jun 2020
monuments to light and sound
that glimmer off a thorny crown
and show us what

everything at
once I was, there was, we were, they had
thoughts and dreams that lit up
leaves of dappled light and what we thought they'd find
under our pillows after losing our teeth

the night creeps
the night creaks
but i'm asleep
Vexren4000 Apr 2017
Monuments of long gone eras,
Pyramids, the Sphinx, Egypt itself,
It's ivory grandeur ground away,
By desert dust,
The hanging gardens of Babylon
Whispered of in fables lost to the ages,
Its location muddied and forgotten,
Atlantis most likely swallowed by the sea,
Barbarians burned the Library of Alexandria,
To dominate and control,
Ancient Wonders of the human race,
Of nature and of man,
Faded into the earth's crust,
Lost to the ages,
And to humanity.

Sethnicity Nov 2016
I'm merely a poet
But you may think me a rapper if I didn't note it
I'm made in moments
I design the riots these words are my pilots
I fly them into structures that lack cognitive diets
I'm like cons stuck to your Feel it Try it Cry it
When you're cursing in the car
seeing red
grab a cigarette
light it
I am here to recreate
the con template
make more meaning behind your quite riot
when you remember how to be great
swinging from swings
singing songs of King Kong
monkeys playing on strings
When mondays were not monotony
growing older into neoteny
has this gotten to thee?
You take it in threes,
Speeding tickets, Deadlines, and Rotten Trees
keep on keeping on
vote on voting on
Can't change the country without cash, fears, or blood
Que Sera, Sera humans ride the carousel of DUH!

I should Detain my thoughts many deem insane
let them germinate with time attain more circular grain
I'm ready for hand over hate for a steady gain
I'm ready for self worth over wealth a cure for the pain
I could light myself on fire and yes one man can
How long can we malnourish the heart and ******* the brain?

y'all don't wanna be free
just wanna get poor quick
Sell your soul on FB
a phat horse chewing the bit
while you eat the virus
that makes you sick!
"I am not a rapper"
but I can wrap it up in a split

"It's Just US for tray bomb"
if not miseducated in Lit
"Eyed Diabolical, My necklace stripped"  
You can steal this message in a bottle
as I bleed out this ****!
I'm merely a poet But you may think me a rapper if I didn't note it!
Just my observation of Monuments and Movements and Revolutions people all over are crying out for change. All I ask is that you consider the whole when you wanna act out. Knowledge is power and power decays until the powers in the hands of the people who change.
The last lines are phonetically subliminal... "ie "(It's Justice for Trayvon) (If I was seen as notorious, My neck lays.. Drip
{killed with my throat slit})
JGuberman Aug 2016
The young seeds unsown
buried beneath
long forgotten granite reasons
a waste of stone
and otherwise arable soil
which now lies fallow and barren
like the ancient womb
from which they were given way
unsafely into the world
of parks and laughter
of tears and monumental alibis
for another's selfish desire
to raise a flag upon a distant hill
and bury beneath it
like supporting struts
the very bones of our future.
after Academy Hill, Stratford
Ishita Mar 2015
Where words fly
But carving exists
I am too ancient to be new
I am glued to the truth
Not to any falsehoods
I carry the same precision,the same hue
Dig out my birth and you'll see me same
Lying motionless,fighting the time change
My shadow hasn't changed
Nor it has tried to run away
To the mere fact of being new
Where only illusions exist
I display the glory,the mighty wins
While people try to absorb me during their blinks
And now the time plays havoc
Tyrannous is he
But I stand-motionless
Dead but alive,
Alive, for the truth I display
Scratched are my walls
By the new lovers
Broken are my idols
By the gruesome manipulators
But I stand-motionless
Steady but lively
Fighting all foes
I'll be me,the old me
Cause I'm mellow
While new is hollow
And by each passing day
People flock to see me
Full of brimming curiosity
"Ah,what a beauty" they say.
Hiraeth Sep 2014
The cottage is old and the garden trees have overgrown,
The long missed smells of mother’s food…
Oh, what joy to eventually come home!

Shrill morning breaks to the call of crows
As the sun rises from behind prison walls.
A reminder yet again, Light alights in sleeping hours,
Daylight brings hell, the unvoiced tortured wails
Which cry out for the Light.
But it plays tantalizing games at night
And leaves the mornings in the hand of the jailor.
No friend, no foe, no merchant nor sailor
Will ever come to see…
We’re alone in our six square feet cells
Us, and the haunting drum roll of the surrounding sea.
Written in 2011, upon visiting the Cellular Jail in the Andaman Islands.

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