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Madison Sep 2018
She's an anarchist

But she still follows the rules

Of writing haiku.
Kellin Aug 2018
i seriously despise the man, would do just
about anything not to obey him, at
least if i thought i could get
away with it or even that
the sure consequences
would be sufferable.
but when daddy
decides to make
you suffer,
it’s more
than any-
one can
bear.
Julian Delia Aug 2018
Do you feel uncomfortable in your own skin?
Here's a tip, from kin-to-kin:
If you don't fit in, don't fit in.
Simply, be.
Sometimes the greatest act of rebellion is trusting your nature and holding on.
Madison Aug 2018
Revolution is

Five syllables of meaning

Life without restraint.
Maya Jul 2018
hollow shells.
am I talking about
kids
or
bullets?

trust no one

helicopters give them panic attacks.
am I talking about
kids
or
war veterans?

is there a difference these days?

this blood spatter on the walls
will keep getting painted over
anyway.

when we speak of courage,
we talk of those long dead.
the heroes
the martyrs
the saints.

but I've seen courage.
it's in the fight.
it's in the picket signs at marches
held up like pleas to the heavens.

it's in the kids who threw themselves in front of a gun
and lived.
dying bravely means
going
down
fighting.

fight until your lungs give out.
fight until your knuckles are ******.
fight until your knees are trembling.
and then,
keep fighting.
survivor's guilt.
Sharon Talbot Jul 2018
Dylan got it first, as he often did,
That American youth were ignorant kids,
Betrayed by the things our parents hid.
And we were insulted just a little bit
But we listened and took the plunge,
Determined to expunge
The poison and let out the Id.

It was up to us not heed the call up
And as one voice we stood up,
Saying, shouting NO!

Twenty or so legendary years for some;
While others sold out, we beat the drum.
Our peers oddly died around us but….
Even as we ‘felt those cold hands’ touch our skin,
As The Capitalists were closing in—
& Some of them were us…
We sounded the drum.

Later on some hippie-punks or is it the other way(?)
Sang about extraordinary girls & then took a fall.
Sometimes begged for Novocain
Which wouldn’t relieve psychic pain,
Like being Ramonely sedated in a concert hall.
Nobody knew what to do with them.
Except to give them fame.

(It was just as bad for them as for the Clash)…
Hell, they almost invented the mash-up.
And too many anti-hippie punks
Loaded on cheap ****** or always drunk,
Claimed all those heroes had sold out.
But Ziggy would’ve known Ash from Ash.

Then came their Blood on the Tracks;
They finally saw what Dylan saw,
Or, if they saw it before,
They got some Real Emotion back.

Nothing has changed and everything has changed,
Said The Heathen…and he should know.

But how do we see, stuck here ‘so far below’,
Not remotely in the know;
They might be on an intergalactic trip
Or as in “A.I”, nothing more than a binary blip?
But encased in virtual ice, how can we live?
Until the end…and even then…
As John wrote, we only get the love we give.
This is my homage to a generation, and the ones after it, who rock and rebel, who never give up, with some cheeky references for fun. I imagine Green Day meeting Dylan in a darkened pub, as he did the Beatles so many years before...exchanging views and if we're lucky, collaborating on a song.
Save your gravity
For the fragile bones
That tread your mountainous rock

I will not fall again.

That slippage comes too quick
When weak men crawl
Like ants upon your surface

I am the fallen angel
Whose wings were too burdened
By the golden kiss of truth

I have fallen to this world
To this mountain
To this cliffside coffin

I have torn from the stone
A house and a life and a lover
I have risen beyond the curse that binds me

And I will not fall again.
Deep Thought Jun 2018
How did it start you might ask?
  The story began when I was 16.

  She knew just how to manipulate
me & so did Tim.
This was also the age I lost my
virginity to him.

Lured toward the lust I felt inside.
Which was why I had so much PRIDE.
She dated me & some other guy.
All along I was just her backup plan.

Keep in mind, I was a 10th grader in High School.
Going out to parties, smoking a bunch of cigarettes & ****.
Nothing mattered. Which left me feeling more alone than I ever did.
Didn't get the privilege to walk down the aisle with the rest of my classmates.

Expelled.

How can God forgive a misfit such as me?
How undeserving I was. Rebellion.

Plenty of drugs & clubs - my personal
favorite was Pulse Night Club.
Who was I when I wasn't with women?

This was my life for 10 years.

Later on, I watched a spoken word video
called Jesus > Religion.
For a moment it clicked, or so I thought.
Evidently realizing I was a religious fraud.

Once upon a time, I was among the dead.
Now I am fully alive in Yeshua.
I may never forget, even if He already has.
As far as the East is from the West.

  Relentlessly pursuing me in my brokenness.
He has made me whole & new again.

I urge you to pick-up your cross.
The battle has already been won.
Psalms 103:12
As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.
A Simillacrum Jun 2018
Enter a life devoid of
what you
won't ever believe
you truly
take for
granted.                           You do.

How do I know, you ask?
Well,             I have            eyes.

It's not hard to see
your hardships hardened
your heart
to any empathy for us

so,                 I turn               /OFF
                        too

so,                  ****       ­         You

What do I know of life?
I'm young /or dumb /and dumb.
I know that I live in a world
that venerates honesty but
punishes me for living with
a                    little               truth.

What do I know of life?
I'm young /and dumb /and dumb
I know that dissent in a world
that venerates this openess
is, will be met, with callousness
unrivaled. unrivaled. unrivaled.
Tyler Matthew May 2018
We are what our parents' parents
taught them to fear.
The atom of liberated thought,
the shallow, the queer, the lazy.
We are what our fathers were not,
or what they never had the ***** to be.
We are united by the hypothesis
of instant pleasure.
We are measured by dollar signs,
nickels, dimes, roaring down
Penny Lane blaring hip-hop,
dropping the surnames and
blaming the slave trade for
the stains on our rap sheets.
We are what comes after the comma
in the history book sentence,
sentenced to life in mind-drug prison.
Listen!
We are going nowhere but forward.
We are the generation of disorder,
hoarders of unrealized potentials
who cross borders
just to say we did so.
We are the flame of ******* science
turning your bibles into embers.
We are the generation that
remembers to forget.
Let us take an inch and we will
turn it into a mile so you can
watch us march down it single-file
while you pray to god we don't
make it to Capitol Hill.
You know we will.
Listen!
We are the generation.
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