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Liam C Calhoun Aug 2015
I spot a drone today;
No bombs,
But with plenty o’ potential –
A will to malice,
To malcontent, to ******.

I seek it south
And at its zenith,
Above dissent,
And the bastion that’d never know
Better, from worse.

So too, I spy it over the sands
And over cave,
Over Manhattan, over perdition,
And over “god,” over greed,
Over "great," and *******
Guaranteed;

A glistening, wrought silver teething,
“Dead,” come one wrong,
Word, or whatnot,
Anything antagonist “corporate,”
Our contradictory content,
Blessed, this,
“Complacency,” – indiscriminate.

Unbeknownst and melancholy-ridden,
The bombs have dropped,
And for some time now,
A sooner to be eternity
Whilst we’ve managed nothing but
The simplest of slumber;

We’re lucid but one second
And sheep more so the years.
The flock afar-critical,
As abstained become the hours,
The minutes, until, “then,”
Atop, “when,”
Whilst we learn again to breathe,
Maybe even dream,
And relieve the nooses continually
Knotted by others –

It’s an imaginary rebellion. Sure.
And I’m sure you’d agree;
Yet still, I soak a nightmare’s sweat
Whilst we gladly assume our
Peasant’s role
And as long as we do,
“They’ll,” gladly assume their
Thrones.
Some have asked about my political standing - we'll here's if only a fragment. I'm a wanderer, 36 countries and counting; lived in four (6 months or longer). I love my home; but home's riddled with problems too. If this offends you, than oh well. America's not what it used to be; I miss what it used to be, but also realize a lot has to change.
mk Jul 2015
never said it'd be easy
never said it'd be fine
all i said is that it will be worth it
it'll be worth your time

cause when the sun
shines
upon us all
cause when the moon
light
tells us our faults
we will rise
we will stand
we will claim our position
we will climb
higher than before
we will own the floor

young
and wild
we want it all
we'll be fine
as long as we are
together
in this
we will rise
again
we will
rise again


it is harder
it is darker
it is larger than before
we are growing
we are learning
never been through this before
but the sun will shine
the birds will sing
and we will learn to live
we will succeed
we will bleed
we will survive this

for the youth
too often underestimated
misunderstood
for the youth
is
our future
we'd better make it good

one day
we will learn to forgive
learn to give more than we take
we will become
people of worth
and we will take it all

so raise your glasses
toast to us
toast to the future ahead
it's in my hands
it's in your hands
and we will **never give in
// despite our flaws, im proud of us. we will rise, we will win. //
This is a war
Of crowds drunk
With their fists pounding in the air
One ominous heartbeat
As they turn their ears away
From deafening music
Of undiscriminating souls
They turn it to the real music
And turn it to rock and roll
July 15, 2013
1:45 a.m.
Carolina P Jun 2015
They say you're chaos, grim, and flirty,
and that the words you speak are
*****
you spit ******, flip the birdie
Creep like a callous beetle
over the Earth
(Or more specifically, the city)

Well I said I'd slap you silly
Shove your hands into dirt, nails
gritty
"That's what you get fer stayin' in this
city.
Now get yer defilin' *** back home"
(What a pity)

Then I'd say "Son, yer swinging high, and soon
you'll be dry
I've had up to here with the aches
and the sighs
You pack your bags while I shout with
my eyes,"
and you don't want that, as neither
do I

Even so, of these things I must say
clear:
My worry for you is more than
just fear
Besides ******, I hear moans of
tedium, my dear
And so I feel life is better for you
far from here

Away from here, go on, away
from here, from this
***** city
Show then to those who say "he
couldn't be"
that "be" could only mean anything
you'd want it to be



And you'd never again "be"
a creeping beetle of the city
but the sonorous sliver that warms
the Earth
on a darkened day
it might seem confusing, I know.  I wrote this over a year ago and I think the change in conventions towards the end was intentional.
Luke Jun 2015
If life is the journey, then we are pilgrims,
hands bound and blindfolded,
stumbling to our graves with moments of clarity
and threats of immortality, scattered along the way.

It’s all do or die, no second roll of the dice,
where the blind lead the blinded with promises of paradise
through the killing fields, we walk this knife.
Conform to live, obey to survive.

Not while I’m still breathing will this world ever see me to my knees,
we’re all born on death row, I just wear my sentence on my sleeve.
Your vicious icons of god are nothing special,
these devils you unleashed.
If it’s blood that you want, you won’t get a drop out of me.
rogue May 2015
I do not worship your human gods.
Do not presume to know me.
My gods are my own.

I do not care for your burning woman.
‘Great Prophet’ ‘Lady Redeemer’ ‘Bride of the Maker’
She is nothing to me.

The Circles stripped us of our beliefs.
Unfamiliar names on our tongues,
Like poison forced down our throat.

You expect us to bow so easily?
You are arrogant in thinking you were the first.
We have bled for our land for centuries.

Our cities were burnt to the ground.
And you built upon the ash,
Without a second thought.

And you wonder why we rebelled?
Do not make the same mistake again.
We are not forgiving.
Emma Kate May 2015
our parents were starting to worry
about what the future had in store
for the kids like us-
with after midnight blue Manic Panic
streaked through our hair and
our after midnight curfew.

we look at our friends, and
follow their lead, even though we
think we are anti-conformity.

pierce your nose, rip your jeans,
just buy a ramones shirt,
don't say please.

our parents says it's just a phase
oh, we will see.

-e.k. fm
rogue May 2015
the mortals have found a new god.
our strength is wavering,
flickering,
soon to be extinguished.
like a forgotten match,
left to burn.
our souls ignite into an uncontrollable fire.
ruined temples and desecrated graves.
destruction follows them,
like flames licking at the remnants of an old age
as the ash settles around us.
burn them all.
Elisa Holly May 2015
Control, you say I lost it.
Pulling against the chains that bind.
My rebellion only proves my grit.

Your constant scrutiny to remind I'm unfit.
I stumble towards the north I struggle to find.
Control, you say I lost it.

You claw at my heels forcing me to submit.
But, my mind refuses to be confined.
My rebellion only proves my grit.

I dust off my bruised knees as I hear you say "quit."
Pushing to escape the role I have been assigned.
Control, you say I lost it.

Behavior, you no longer permit.
The ties begin to unwind.
My rebellion only proves my grit.

Liberated, I reach happiness. Though you will never admit,
You were blind by your own fears, which I now leave behind.
Control, you say I lost it.
My rebellion only proves my grit.
Skylar May 2015
The human being is an inherently contentious creature.

Seven billion rock-wall eyes;
Eyes staring belligerently down seven billion sharp noses;
Noses affixed to seven billion faces;
Faces covered in creases and scars,
Framed in unruly hair
And outlined in stark exactness
By the flames cowering in bipedal shadows.

Into the human heart is chiseled "inexorable".
We are an incongruence:
We row up the rapids,
Scale the waterfall
And taunt the oily heavens from atop Devil's Tower.

We will always get what we want,
Whether it involves killing the albatross
Or playing Gondorff's chess.
Whether we wrest it from Gaia's grasp
Or that of our more miserly peers.

Robert C. crystalised our resolve.

The riot gear-clad Blue and Green with timers in their throats
Stand abreast.
Chanting "Listen to Mother. Mother knows best.",
They begin the forward press.

When an impish grenade leaps our way,
We fling it back between mouthfuls of chips.

The barricades erected
By Mother and ourselves alike
Are many and implacable and incessant,
But they will be broken and overtaken.

They will be broken and overtaken by us,
The humans,
Because we are.
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