luis 13h

is poetry really something you think about

like, can this be considered poetry?
me, here

sitting at a computer screen
typing words ever so

conversationally

this reads less like a poem
and more like a speech
or perhaps, like a friend
telling you their day over coffee
and I bet right now you can smell the roasted beans
the air, thick with the smell of caffeine, whipped cream,
possibly a cigar or two

and you hear the voice of your best friend
who's telling you about their day

how they had it rough that day
Ben from accounting really knew how to ruin a day, let me tell you
or perhaps,
someone just spilled coffee all over their notes while they were studying

and as much as fifty apologies can mend a relationship,
fifty apologies can't dry up your english notes

can we really consider this kind of stuff poetry?
it's completely free-form
against the norm,
little to no rhyme or structure
no substance whatsoever

just a mindless person rambling about things that seem ever so slightly relatable

is this really poetry?

probably not.

i literally spent all of 0 minutes thinking about this please don't enjoy

When I depart the realm
of the terrestrial,
for the splendour of the celestial,
do not bury my remains in the
valley of the kings,
for robbers would move my
bones in search of gold rings.
I detest sharing the glory of
the blue-bloods with them
in death.
But I would like my molded
clay buried in the worm
infested earth,
where it would nourish both
worm and field,
and help moisture give life
to mother earth's withered
yield.

Philosophy about death

Finding true kindness
is the hidden temple
it's an undecipherable world within the words
of true believers;
the passionate philosophers
of an older age.

These philanthropic peoples
they had a sense of purity
that could reckon with the likes of god--
not an almighty being beyond our recognition
but those deities standing on all but mighty pedestals.

They were able to rampart the tides
of none the likes of celestial beings
instead they tore into the minds
of lesser possibilities
that were yet a greater conquest to take.

What I speak is they were trying to figure out
you and me you and I
the feats of our brains
and the limitations as such.

With this they probably found
the same thing out as I have with everyone I touch.
Girls and Boys hold egos
that kind words are more than enough.

Our egos were the limitation.  And they are truly what hold people back from being how they want to really be.
Jas 2d

My mind is an aviary of insane birds that I wish to fly alongside
Rather than feeling the freedom of their insanity
Through means of loneliness under an ever expanding ceiling.

Ref.: Theatetus, Plato

I was walking down a hallway, when a head rush overtook me. blindly ambling forward, the walls, floor, and ceiling lurched in on me.

I was struck by the absurd notion that human beings must be enclosed within these confined spaces. it parallels the idea of the lines, spaces, and boxes that society draws upon and around us that we must remain in.

man is not free.

yet this contradicts the statement made by Jean Paul Sartre, explaining that “man is condemned to be free.” how can this be? we attempt to free our minds, and yet we remain in the enclosures we physically and mentally draw around ourselves.

the walls seemed like they were closing in, and it reminded me terribly of a time that I knew I was losing my mind.

the concept of space and the universe was slipping away from me; before becoming vastly distorted, lacking all meaning. it was like slipping away into the infinite black abyss once more.

all of these thoughts and feelings rushed over me at once: some verbal, most instinctual. unspoken. primitive, as if this knowledge lived within us, residing in our bones since the dawn of mankind.

the entire experience lasted approximately four seconds. it made me nostalgic yet nauseous to remember that I once to lived my entire life in this state.

April 22nd, 2013 

I vaguely remember this experience.
it was just another flash of clarity among an ocean of monotony.

however, this was before I dove deeper into the works of Sarte.
Tina Jan 12

I came out with a little something
To tantalise the world with
I put on a magician cloak
And a top hat to top the world
There was that mind blowing show
At 7 pm each wednesday.
I sold people embroidered lies
And bought their colossal blunders
Yet, none could feed the hunger I carried
In the pit of my stomach
Or the thirst that would wipe out my barren eyes
Till some intruder having planned before
Broke in to the show, blasting the door
As audience fled, my cloak caught fire
The top hat descended like acid rain
corroding my magic into pieces of wood and wire
All gone and I stood watching
How my utmost dreams flew away .
Two tinsy droplets began dancing on my cheeks
The hunger that ached my stomach for weeks
Muttered: Voila!
And the intruder had left with nothing to say.

There is a space, hidden from the eye
Of all creatures residing Earth only I,
Cognise and call my own as I alone,
Walk its secret paths entangled
Meanders ascending towards thoughts.

A cave of shadows revealing its nature,
Where senses are dismissed for ideas
To sparkle intuitions of reality I grasp,
Eyes closed, ears shut, no fire burning
Behind me to project illusions before me.

Here, I defy the diktat of physical condition,
Truths only true to animalistic interpretations,
Inebriated by the spirit of greater verities
A place as immense as the Universe,
Concealed within me pigeonholed Mind.

On a special place

Published yearly reports on global
development, equality and happiness
introduce, reflections of governance,
economy, wealth and well-being

uneven distribution.

Policies, discrepancies, resolutions,
conflicting interests of individuals
and groups interacting on grounds
of power asymmetries leading to failure.

Bargains amongst elites and greater
citizen engagement only keys, to success
defying rise of authoritarian populism,
a recurring nightmare from the past

century, overturning concepts of human
rights protection, jeopardising freedom
impeding equity and justice amongst,
populations untrusting rulers and neighbours.

Loss of faith in institutions, strain
on international cooperation, a species
struggling to live in society and peace.
Lifestyles devastating nature

while consumerism pollutes, air and waters,
toddlers playing with toys neglecting
consequences and repercussions ignoring,
to every effect there is indeed a cause.

Yet, Humanity is precisely that, a two
hundred thousand years old creeping toddler
learning how to walk. Improvements
cannot be overlooked or flouted,

self-commiseration and deploration the vice
of media-nurtured pessimism, populations
addicted to bad news. Guilty I say those indulging
in irrational despair accepting nothing

can be done and that humanity is doomed,
a cancer to our Earth undeserving anything good.

Yet, life expectancy reaches 71 from 32 in 1900,
child mortality halved since I was born, thirty
years for one point one billion people to move
out of extreme poverty, death penalty ruled

illegal in more than half of all countries,
crime rate falling as crime is recognised
as such and prosecuted, rape no longer
an offense against chastity or morality

but a crime against a Person, torture no longer
an acceptable feature of criminal justice,
as general consensus now deplores it,
our outrage proof of our progress, while

300, 000 more people gain access
to electricity each day, 120 democracies
among the world’s 193 countries,
up from just 40 in the seventies.

Looking for renewable energies,
carbon emissions from fossil fuels fail
to rise, new fields are explored, science
posing questions deemed heretic before.

And of course things could be better
and maybe problems could be solved
faster, but when we fail to see the progress
we make we begin, to stop trying.

And that my dearest friend would be,
the greatest natural disaster in history.
So assemble the broken pieces of your courage,
Turn off the news and make change happen.

Happy 2018.

On Humanity state of affairs
Tina Jan 10

Those derelict dead
ends of the soul
that bear mad
houses on their
shoulder,
All Nazis who came
back from the war,
the war that killed
sixty million cells
in their brains.
They came back for
love, put roses
into their guns and
shot like a madman.
There they dwell in
lonlely lonley
cells,
Within their own
boundries
Ceasing to feel
life pass through,
As the starving
walls hold out
their hands, for
the food that was
never given.
Tina RSH

Tina Jan 10

Let us get out of
this augmented
little world
Mankind was
solitary from the
word go
Creating a roughly
meaningless charm
It is meaning I
yearn to seize
beyond this verse,
more so
When words fail to
paint the void I
breathe
As I watch each
moment pass away
I sit grieving for
a year or two
Before there comes
the unexpected
sharp dismay
And subdued
undefined
melancholy.
There is air beyond
my lungs
And love in the alr
And infinity in
love.
And meaning in the
dreams man ceased
to follow.
Tina RSH

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