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With tests there's right and wrong

I loved getting the right answer

But the real world doesn't work that way
Usually no clear answers.

But I still find myself searching
High and low
for the perfect life circumstance
that will make my heart glow

That will leave me content
Restore my joyful self
Instill feelings of hope
Fill my soul with wealth

But it's a faulty search tactic.

Life is never perfect
It can't fully be controlled
Has its ups and downs
As we continue to get old

For a perfectionist like me
This is hard to accept
If I work a bit harder
I'll never be inept

But this means perpetual dissatisfaction.
Only seeing the bad
The world's falling apart
and everyone's mad

I wish I didn't struggle with my mental health
Or think about this so much
I wish I didn't deeply care
About the world's struggles and such

I must believe I can find joy
Contentment and purpose too
To appreciate things for what they are
Hope and positivity to imbue
Kyle T Oct 8
Fluorescent uplit lights
Throws no shadows
Shows no life
No vestiges therein

Monitors' frontward glow
Radiates no future, no past
Well lit death
No matrix destination

The rows and cubes behold
A conformed neatness
An oppression
A regime built against creation

The soul flutters above
Unseen but seeming
To hold life
The inexorable dullness of life
Had to write this while sitting in my office trying to find the beauty in modern things.
He recited:
"No punishment bigger than life
What's the crime
Not known
Death is its destination
There's no other path
Whereabouts of Causer of troubles not known
Life now tell where to go
Couldn't get poison in the market"
My dear friend
If you've a mindset
Life is the biggest punishment
No one can help you
Then you be thankful to God
The destination of life is death
Otherwise you would be
Under biggest punishment eternally
You couldn't get poison from the market to end your life
For whereabouts not known of Causer of all troubles
I thank God other alternatives didn't come to your mind
Where not even a single penny is required
If ever in future such a thought overwhelms your mind
Please take help of suicide helpline
Dear friend life is not a punishment
per se
It's a mixture of pain and happiness
Pain to educate
Educate to learn happiness
Your life is the result of enjoyment of two people
Had it been the biggest punishment
People would have stopped procreating
Please understand it
and take care!
Of late, I have seen celebrities, administrators, retired top police officers who excelled in life commit suicide during challenging times of corona. Projecting negative image of life may give solace to a poet. But it may encourage or trigger others to end their life.
MY POEM IS DIRECTED TOWARDS POETS WHO HAVE NO REAL LIFE ISSUES, BUT PROJECT LIFE AS USELESS TO LOOT WAH-WAH
Norman Crane Oct 2
If I grew wings
would you stab them
with pins
and add me
to your collection?

If I grew fins
would your interest
in me
culminate in a classroom
dissection?

If I grew muscle
would a vivisection
suffice
or would you first crush my strength
within an iron vise?
Inspired by Sandra Wyllie's poem If I Grew Wings ( https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4059625/if-i-grew-wings/ ), whose title and idea I shamelessly stole because I thought it was interesting how two minds could take those starting points and go in completely different directions!
Norman Crane Sep 23
Bodies jostle toward the heatsource,
Foot stomp, elbowed in the rib,
Muttering voices hoarse, exhale mists
That swirl like deadmen's ashes in the wind.
Pale lumina saturates the cinder skies,
Under which the aged remember
The suns of former lives,
Their memories the glowing solitary embers
Of a world we've left behind.
Ahead, a mother veils her babe with rags
From a passer-by's ravenous gaze.
A man automatously drags
A rattle-bag of assorted human remains,
Leaving trails in the dirt,
Leaving trails in the dirt.
We have splintered apart the frame
Of this landscape of hellpain,
Against smokestack sequoias and asphalt seas,
We stumble toward the crematoria.
My God, the coldness hurts!
As upon the canvas of this frozen Earth
We enact the terminus of human innovation,
The burning of every breath,
The engineered suicide of civilization.
Out, out, brief candle,
said Macbeth.
Into the cull chamber I step,
Hoping there at least I will find warmth,
In death.
Ces Sep 1
I force a smile to
Regain a sense of normality
Curled lips that
Mask the rawness
Of this aching
Emptiness.

No longer am I enamored
With lovely, naive fantasies:
This blank stare into the abyss
Born out of revolt
Against the lie
That happiness is everyone's
Lot in life.

Fortune is a whimsical god
And living is an unpredictable
Farce between birth and death
Such randomness,  brutality
Victimizes those born
Of sound body
But with a fragile mind
And a crumbling sanity.

Reflections of gloom
Are all that keeps me company
This unbearable pessimism
In this tiny room
Yet I cannot stop my inquiries:
My explorations of truth
No matter how wretched it might be
At its very root.
Roro Aug 28
When life is all about fixing whats wrong

Then everything right, good, and strong

Won't stay, pass by, or come along.
Norman Crane Aug 27
He brought spiders to the schoolyard
      to crush them
He attended Julliard
      to learn Bach's partitas for violin
He pays women to undress for him
      and beats them
Knowing culture is a game
      we play
The boy and the man are the same
      composition
Performed in various ways
      the notes stubbornly remain
What's born cannot be changed
      one musical phrase
Nurture is Nature's
Dais
Her pantry is starting to look bare
once full and abundant, back wall now visible

She rues what is missing
selection not yet bland, but it is becoming dire

Her weary eyes notice a jar
Not the largest by size, but it has a presensce

She checks the label
a ‘humanity-mix’, estimated 7 billion pieces

Her mind tries to focus
the dates can’t be made out, what do they say?

She realises it’s not that important
it may not have reached expiration,
but it is certainly past the best-before-date
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