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Zywa 3d
How then could I say

where the shoe is pinching if --


I'm not wearing it?
Play "Peer Gynt" (1867, Henrik Ibsen), fifth act, "Nattscene" ("Night scene") - The dying Peer Gynt looks back on his life

Collection "VacantVoid"
Zywa May 14
I talk in my sleep,

I recorded it and then --


quickly erased it.
Novel "Shalimar the Clown" (2005, Salman Rushdie), chapter India

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa Apr 2022
An automatic

wristwatch gets little pushes --


from its wearer-slave.
Self-winding mechanism (an old novelty for watches, that have become superfluous since the smartphones)

Collection "Half The Work"
The Foodie One Feb 2022
I am a
Lego Castle -
this Me, standing tall
for Everyone to see -
Is an Us

I’m made of
a million
of different pieces -
tiny colorful ones,
each different and unique

I was born One
and became Many
as years passed by;
Every new little piece
I made contact with,
changed me -

I haven’t lost myself,
I just
Grew;
And every time
I meet a new part,
It makes me a little more

Whole
© 05/02/2022
Bella Isaacs Sep 2021
I walked through life with a rude and fresh arrogance:
I was taught it when I was still a big fish in a small pond,
When I still had a can-do-it-all attitude, when the dance
Was life, and the tune was want, and the performer, fond,
Moved like anything. Anyone. Save Lethe, who dulled me,
Who pulled me under waves when I cursed the sea,
When I thought, to time immemorial, I had the energy
To do anything, go anywhere, be anything I wanted to be -
I lived off borrowed time, and borrowed fire,
And borrowed, all of my once blazing desire
Fed no one, but lost dreams - I reap the harvest now:
I should have been a doctor, and I plough
My lack of care and decision, my blind turning, and the resulting salt,
I trudge through the compost of other unfinished deeds, never to halt -
I never knew the meaning of a battery, even when it ran down;
My phone recharges at night, and I simply squint and frown,
Trying to make sense of a world sensible to girl who used to dream;
Sleeping through waking, as though nothing would be as it would seem.
I am undertaking a challenge of writing a poem a day until the 31st of September to raise some money (or at least awareness) for my mother's research group at the University of Oxford, who are trying to find the causes of Lyme Disease, ME/CFS and Long COVID, amongst other fatigue related illnesses. If you are interested, this is their page: https://www.wrh.ox.ac.uk/team/karl-morten . The poems are all going to follow themes that are typically associated with these conditions, such as despair, lost opportunity, exhaustion... Please give me advice and suggestions! I'd really appreciate your input. At the moment, I'm calling the challenge the FortnightForFatigue Challenge. I would like to thank you all for your support in advance.
Raul M Murray Apr 2021
Backed and sponsored by the cabinet
Our heads on the server and internet
BCI experiments while we're under the duvet
Foot-soldiers follow orders on their handset
Rockwell is not paranoid
They've seen us on the TV,
iPad, iPhone, and Android
The BCI app that makes us annoyed
Please God, destroy that satellite with an android
My doctor is like Sigmund Freud
Give him the anti psychotic steroid
For making money off the unemployed
Some people in the past, present, and future will go life being used in research and experiments, for a period of time, some will be compensated others may never see their tormentor, others will be killed. For the people who have had such an experience.
Aphasia Nov 2020
The scientists
and pragmatists-
mathematical analysis-
can say it all won't come to pass-


(probably.)
The study in question: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.beth.2019.07.003
("Exposing Worry’s Deceit: Percentage of Untrue Worries in Generalized Anxiety Disorder Treatment")
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