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Deep May 5
The 'gyre' hints arrival-
Twenty centuries making room
For a new epoch,
I’m modern bird now,
I may sound haphazard, troublesome and brooding
unimportant topic for hours,
It's up to you to lend ear or not;

I was winged rooster confined to land only,
Now I’ve become 'hawk', with knowledge of flight
perhaps power too,
Seeing the world from far above
Envisioned me a seer sight;
I see the world functioning; the lowliest on top,
the best in daze, and mediocre relishing mediocrity,
One or two good men wasting
life in poetry; Of which none cares.
Oblivious armed men guards the periphery;
At centre white termites gnaws the Door.

At this height, all seems different,
I can’t relate with my earlier self;
My knowledge seems nothing but
A stack of white paper, ink fallen here and there;
nothing more.
When I became 'conscious'-
My dreams stopped being dreams—
My thoughts were invaded daily—
Life evolved in million years—
'God is dead', universe all *****.
We’re the supreme and Satan both;
Busy in triumphing Nature.
Merging all— Immolated my beliefs.

We’ve progressed too much, portends
the trembling of earth
And smoke eclipsing the sun.
Death I breathe,
War looms over,
Life is traded in forfeited currency.

I see the world functioning,
I know one or two tricks too to cheat,
To assault, to ****, to loot.
I can foresee the end—
Its good to die starving then
To fly in proximity of land.
gyre; comes from WB Yeats,
Hawk; Ted Hughes (Hawk Roosting)
Freud's term - Conscious, Nietzsche's quote 'God is dead'
Just Ivan May 3
I crave her affable personality,
& the words well crafted in her heart.

Share with me and end my unbounded ennui!

Forever yours, a banal nobody.
In hopes of getting past hello.
maria k May 2
when life seems smothered in beauty
such beauty disappears
when laughter pierces the glass of night
it leads to sorrow
when the aroma of pie swirls through the room
a fire waits to consume
seeing the glass half empty may not be the best idea
I wanted to be heard, but never said anything.
Ed C Apr 13
I feel like a clown
makeup running down
my face, from the rain,
the pain of feeling clouds
blocking my sunshine dreams
ha ha haaa.....
Royce Apr 5
The years have dripped away, I went from 20 to 28
In the blink of an eye, and found myself nowhere.

Back then I worked the warehouses, busting my ***, for a payday
Talking to myself, half crazy, “Don’t worry, you’ll soon be an emperor,
Just a little while longer.”
While the guy next to me has been at it for over 30 years,

Soon to retire on nothing.

Coming and going, watching his co-workers retire, die, get fired,
Make supervisor, go crazy, or just not show up for their shift;
Having moved on to something else.

After my shift, I learned to drink,
And allowed myself to be broken by love
And learned that being alone
Is good for the living.

Sipping a can of beer in the sun,
Cigarette in hand, and beat up from the shift,
I thought I would be young forever.

But someday soon I WILL DIE,
There isn’t any other way.

Yet the never-ending cycle of repetitive lifting continues,
And no matter what they say, no educational institution
Is going to save me.
The time clocks I’ve punched in and out of for years,
Are laughing at me, mocking me,
“All hail the emperor,” they snarl,
As I come and go.
Ray Dunn Apr 5
Optimism, a fun game
for children and the bored.
I keep my goals tame,
while I shake in the cold.

Afternoon… night.
My goal only for life.
A future of delight,
good job and good wife

See, “I am no pessimist”,
that, while brushing a future away.
Forever claiming I’m a realist—
we know all good things never stay

Don’t get hopes high,  
and there you will never feel surprise
A sonnet for day four
jsb Mar 30
I thought it was the weather
but in the sun, I feel the same
I thought it was my hormones
But the menstrual cycle is only part of my pain
I thought it was my location
But when I move, it follows
and when I try to change
I always revert back to my ways
Maybe it's just me
And I will never change
Tripping over my own feet
Until I can't get up again
Aspen Welsch Mar 16
I know what you’re all about because you’ve told me.

You’re against using medicine and chemicals.
Unless I put them in my body and they become the permission slip for you to *** inside me.
Somehow this feminism pill that is supposed to liberate me is really liberating your ****.

You’re against plastic surgery.
Until I need it to fix this unbroken vessel which you can’t help but make comments about while we stand ***** and on exhibit in the shower.

You’re against hurting women.
Unless it involves “hog-tying me and carrying me around like a brief case.”
Then it’s just **** and what you’re into.
I guess I should work on finding the pleasure in that.

You’re against me using a ******* chef’s knife to cut pizza rather than a pizza cutter.
Until it becomes an opportunity to tell me I’m doing it wrong.
I’m going to dull the knife you are so cunningly waiting to shove in my back.

You’re against giving in to unhappiness.
Unless it’s an excuse for you to ignore me.
I forgot I already reached my frown quota and you were given the free infinity pass at birth.

You’re against eating meat.
Unless it’s human meat because you aren’t above cannibalism. How many of us have you chewed up and **** out, anyway? I am just one more unassuming girl to be preyed upon.

You’re against pessimism.
Until it’s your life, your opinion, your need to rain on everyone’s parade. You say I don’t see the silver lining in the clouds, but it’s because I’m consumed by your storm. The entire sky is overcast and I can’t, or won’t, be the rainbow every single time.

What is a rainbow anyway?
Depending upon which way you look, it vanishes into nothing. Beautiful, but transparent and fleeting. I give you pleasure for a moment and then I am forgotten.
I am a refraction.
A bending light.
Invisibility spreading it’s legs wide open to give you a smile in fabulous color.

You shout these qualities in your autobiography like I’m supposed to give you some type of award.
The reality is that being in a relationship with you means constantly teetering on the balancing beam of a double-edged sword.
The only thing you’re really against is me.

On day 1 you told me you were an *******.
And I thought you were just exaggerating.
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