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Nolan Willett Apr 2019
A resurgent nihilistic philosophy
A second lost generation
Disillusioned with the being of nations
Lost in their own antipathy
Confused by new sensations

A political theorist I am not
I like to wander in hills and clouds
And pick out kindred spirits in crowds
A thousand wasted battles fought
A thousand raggedy burial shrouds

The bohemians revel in their nonsense
Shall I my conceits and imaginations forsake?
Maybe a decent Lawyer I would make?
What is real and what is performance?
Which side of me shall I deem fake?

To which should I my attentions give
My unceasing love for liberty,
or a discontented bourgeoisie?
Material things I need to live
Yet still I am most lifted by poetry
Alek Mielnikow Apr 2019
She adorns her face with platinum
piercings, and her azure hair peeks
out of her indigo hoodie. Her
ragged, cinereous jeans reveal
scabbed and bruised knees, and
they’re tucked into jet black
biker boots strapped to her feet.

Without hesitation, she crosses the street.

Tires screech and car horns beep and drivers
scream obscenities that ornament the air
with scorn. Yet like a red belonging in folklore,
she slights their violent contempt.

She tipples from the burn of
self-destruction, and savors the
flavor of rebellion, a savor so
sweet it overwhelms her senses
and compels her to behave reckless.

And as I pass, I throw up my best fist
of anarchy. I wish I was free like this.

Though it takes a tinge of toughness
to stare into the nihilistic abyss,
it takes courage to have fun in it.


-
Aleksander Mielnikow
True story!


red [noun] - one who advocates the violent overthrow of an existing social or political order

tipples [verb] - to drink liquor especially by habit or to excess, OR, to drink (liquor) especially continuously in small amounts

burn [noun] - a channel of water that can vary in size from a stream to a river


azure - #007fff
indigo - #4b0082
cinereous - #98817b


If you liked this, check out "Dancing Alone" and "Tonight's The Night"
Chris Mar 2019
Flatline
__
Empty space.
Nichts.
Kurac moj.
Nothing.
People who think that the stars talk are dumb. Deal with it.
Over Mar 2019
What would happen
If a giant eye suddenly
existed in the sky
Watched us through its
bottomless iris?

What would happen
If the same giant eye
Suddenly started melting
And rained its moist mucus
On our frail beings?

What would happen
If eyes sprouted
From the mucus that
watered our body?

The eyes
Would serve as a crime
Against nature
But who are we
To define nature
What is nature to begin with?

What would happen
If the world changed
Beyond our control?

Nothing

We either die
Or we co-exist
Ali Ashraf Mar 2019
I have travelled a thousand miles
covered myself in thousand styles
kissed the sand and touched the wind
loved and been loved akin
embraced the good and yes, I've sinned
lost sometimes and sometimes I win

one thing I've learned from the journeys made
by becoming a jack of all trades
by having scars of journey on my skin
by letting new experiences in
yes, I've learned this thing for sure
nothing is worth living for

© Ali Ashraf
I am just sad
misha Mar 2019
My dreams floated into the sky
and then fell down into eternity,
like snow falling into the sea,
making her shiver at the horror of it all.

Half forgotten reveries swirl through my mind
and stars burst on my skin,
extinguished by the wind and the water
as I try to forget and remember at the same time

Maybe someone else will be there
to catch those fell fantasies in their hands
as they stream from the moon and into the sea
and she will shiver as my thoughts seep into her blood

Falling backwards into the sky,
We both have the same revelation.
No matter how lucid we are-
Nothing we do matters because we’re all going to die.

In both our moments of clarity,
We wept for the achievements of all of humanity,
To be erased with one stroke of wings,
Extinguished with one mighty claw’s swipe.

Falling into the sky like lanterns
Are our collective hopes, dreams and fears.
But mine has gone dark.
The gentle moon and the dying sea no longer sing of oblivion.
Arisa Mar 2019
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."
Arisa Mar 2019
I missed the bus seconds after the last passenger boarded.

Now I sit here alone,
Waiting for another vessel
To drag me to my destination.

The air is cold,
And my heart is still thumping away
Due to physical exertion to reach the thing I missed -
But like everything else,
My hopes,
My dreams,
They're too far to reach.

I don't know how to end this
But mention the tiny speckle of headlights
And the roar of the large vehicle in the distance.
So now I think:
'There's always another bus.'
One of my meh poems.
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