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Chandra S Nov 27
You asked:
"How you came to your dead end?"

How did I?
Perhaps too much of chasing butterflies,
or maybe running barefoot in hot, avid pursuit
of those looping, berserk kites

adrift like airborne serpents

in delirious evening skies.

Then there were those chimeric rainbows -
sedately fantastic illusions of dream jobs,
and loving homes with ambrosial glows.

They all eventually led to the same prosaic end,
for, any-which-way, all roads wound up
at appropriately conventional
and consequently beaten bend.

Till the chase went on, it was the same old story -
All fulfilled ambition promptly subject to
increasingly falling marginal utility.

After all of it was said and done,
every little crown lost and won,
the agony of the question still remained
no last words arose,
to which to exclaim and say Yay!

Life had me in its hook. See:?
while this is what it meant to be free: !

Fossilized in my den, I stared wistfully
at life's irrevocable loose ends
and this is how my friend
I arrived at my proverbial dead ends.
Inspired by the question in a poem by Inner Incognito at


Sad you are?
Join the club!
I think you'll find there's plenty of

like headed minds and wandered souls
On the path to pay the toll
But like all paths we're headed down
If stayed the course you'll come around
So pick a seat and tell us friend

How you came to your dead end.

© Inner Incognito, 2019
Joseph Rice Sep 19
Rorschach sounds test door lock found
watching ninetofivers run the hamster wheel.
I could complain
that would be sane, right?

Efficacy of coffee in drawing truth from words
belies belief belittling lies obvious strength.
Who are you to say “light"?
Just another dark eyed zombie echoing societal platitudes.

The days ways say stay to
the ***** of the broke brained overweight.
Hunger in the eyes sunder intelligent minds
beneath the crushing hand of expectation.

Buy me a sliver of happiness
Or was it
Cry me a river of helplessness
Memory fails snails snotting up rails
that funny ******* find with palm’s hand.
Andrew Harris Apr 10
Sometimes I wonder how we do sleep
Serving the dodgy companies we keep
All kicking and scrounging for the very first place
Dictionary definition of a rat race
Pay off those losers we elect to lead
Stealing from the mouths that we're meant to feed
Enslaving the very clothes upon my back
I feel the sting but I hear no crack, no crack

-John Butler
Lyric excerpt from Revolution by John Butler trio
I believe that far to often we do strive for first place at expense of others
Abigail Rose Mar 9
I never asked to join the rat race.
But being a cognizant participant of the
perpetual scramble
I've noticed
it seems
we're always neck-and-neck,
it's me!
No, *******--
it's you--you're winning--oh,
wait--it's me again!
him, me, you...
Is this a marathon we're supposed to sprint?
Are  humans even capable of doing that?
Or... hamsters?
I slow down and become a fat ******* lump,
moving slowly, and yet somehow,
there you are beside me still.
There is our row of hamsters wheels,
and here is our imaginary race
to a finish that exists in an industrial dream.
The soul resides in the breath
we can never catch
as we are racing--
I'm winning!
You, me, you, him, her, me... again.
And again.
And again.
For efficiency's sake
we race in a row.
I need a ******* break.
Frank Ruland Sep 2014
Ladies and gents, pull up a chair
Rat Race is the name of the game
and the rules are that no one cares

Get ahead just however you will--
lie, push, steal, plead, manipulate--
just make sure you get your fill.

And I don't care just what you take,
but don't you dare get in my way or
your feelings I might just have to break.

The money, the ***, the ego, the high;
baby, go and pick your poison and
maybe our stars might just coincide.

In here, things are neither up or down;
life is but a messy melting ***
where it all just get turned around.

Heaven? Hell? I just want what's mine.
I'll get it whatever way I please and
when I go to bed I'll sleep just fine.
Irate Watcher Aug 2014
The most beautiful hour in L.A.
is 3 A.M., when,
of lavender
peep through
wooden blinds,
lulling restless minds
laid on Egyptian
Cotton candy
clouds amuse me.
Because as I close my eyes,
I realize,
that here,
there is no starry night
because this beautiful haze
is light pollution.

But pollutions' hue calms
a city mind.
Like sirens quell
eager ears,
And liquor tickles
tantalized tongues,
And words flow
from numb knuckles,
And insomnia wets
drying eyes,
am struck,
that this lavender haze
helps me see
that too much
is always what I need.
Irate Watcher Aug 2014
Coffee or tea
perks me.
Too much!
Wine time.
Wind down.
Morning time
is round the clock.

Coffee or tea
perks me.
Too much!
Wine time.
Morning time
is round the clock.

Round the clock
Round clock.

Too much!
Wine down clock.
Amy Jun 2014
In a queue for the tube a man is on fire
flames climb up his collar
as he waits for his train.
But he stands unaware
of the smoke filled air
instead he checks his melting watch
and impatiently taps his burning foot
ignited by angst over his delayed route.

The woman by his side tries to tell him to cool down
tries to tell him he's burning
but she can't, she's drowning.
Water soaks up her suit
and seeps through her skin
so that she's coughing and spluttering
and sinking from within.

Two colleagues across the platform pay careful attention
to this storm and from it form conversation,
they judge the gentleman's irritation
and questions the woman's suffocation
but fail to notice the cause of each other's frustration.

Only the driver as his train pulls in closer,
witnesses one co-worker being blown over
whilst a rat races furtively up the other one's leg.
mandy rigby Jun 2014
some of the time
I cannot think straight
and to others I cannot relate

all the times I've almost gone under
heard the lightning strike
the roar of the thunder

I've felt vulnerable and under attack
I've made mistakes that I cannot take back

in desperate times,
I've almost drowned
caught up in the rat race
overwhelmed by the sound

(c) msrigs edited 26.06 2014
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