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Simon Piesse Mar 22
The ***-bellied Mercedes squealed
As Meursault withdrew and
Marvelled at the flames
The air
Like marigolds on Ritilin.
'Raymond would have no reason not to admire this act.'
He stopped by a shimmering sea of Ubers.
The scrape and drawl of siren made no impression on him.
Leaking smoke reminded him of
Snow White’s Cottage
Where he had taken Marie when Lucie was born:
The place where he would go out at dawn to chop wood.
He liked the way her roses played
With the restlessness of children.
Then he thought: 'if only mother could see me now.'
Inspired by Camus' searing sense of injustice in The Stranger, which I'm studying with my class at the moment and by the riots in Bristol, UK
Anais Vionet Jan 8
You can twist the way a man sees the world.
Do you think that sounds ridiculous?
What if you did it over time with subtlety and diligence?

The audience is largely uneducated, so remind them of their impotence; tell them any other source of facts must be regarded with suspiciousness.

Whisper to them over breakfast and slowly introduce corrosive dissonance; outright lie to them at dinner,salting in some truth for spicy antithesis.

Those who run the country are up to something mischievous; their lives, their fine America, have been eroding with precipitance.

Remember empowered yesterdays with a sad and tearful wistfulness; twist the needs and rights of others with pernicious lies and maliciousness.

Invest their government with conspiracy and its policies with wickedness. Remind your audience that freedom was torn from kings by well-armed militias.

Introduce the savior as a shining instrument of religiousness; defend his faults as small and frivolous and his right to rule as unambiguous.

When shocking reality dares assert itself, denials must be vicious and officious.

A rescue mission must be launched and certainly they must be participants; banners from the gift shop will form a team identity and a certain moral equivalence.

The leader will whip the angry crowd, stoking resentment with fabricated incidents, swearing, “I will be with you on this great crusade and you will be my instruments”

As the mob storms off he will slink away; he was only there for stimulus.

Hear the old republic creak as the President flexes his insolence; he’s seen that no blame can touch him, so he’s filled with proud ambivalence.

What will it take to rein him in? What kind of obvious stimulant, with thousands already dying every day and our society marbled with brittleness?
shake, oh fragile republic
Cyndi Dec 2020
As a nation of democracy
The nation of democracy
We’re entitled to equality
For we are the people.

Ignoring *** and identity
Race, age, spirituality
We demand sovereignty
For all of us people.


A flaw dilutes our equality
Brought on by our shared history
A racist, oppressive legacy
From The State’s “first” people.

You would think by now we would be free
No more bias, people would see
That we all make up humanity
That we are all people.

Yet from racial violence, we still flee
Racist police brutality
Oppressive courts rule your skin guilty
Like we’re not all people.

So without equal “equality”
Some find the system so *****
They see one option for purity:
Demolish a people.

Not fight wrongs individually
Rather, destroy all they can see
But before we separate fully
They as well are people.

“The system’s too corrupt!” Is their plea
“We’ll cleanse it with brutality.
“Forget the cost, it will set us free.
“Freedom for us people!

“No matter pain and fear and frenzy
“Chaos and death and anarchy
“If it brings the System to its knees
“We will fight the people.

“No matter how ludicrous the fee
“This will free the people.

This poem is very different from my usual, ehehe.
I wrote this for an English assignment, and I'm fairly proud of it. We were tasked with writing something around the BLM riots. I usually don't like to get political, because politics make little upset, but still.
Fun fact, my first poem on here and also my favorite poem to date, "Red," was also written for an English assignment.
Mackenzie M Nov 2020
It says in the Bible
That killing is a sin
And that A person's a person
no matter their skin

We are all sinners
We all die in the end
Except in this world
Where we are expected not to break
so we bend

The world's gone to hell
now nothing's okay
People are dying
Women getting ***** every day

children are being shot dead
Left alone without a friend
But We turn a blind eye
because it's easier to pretend

You are told to say
none of this matters
Since it doesn’t affect me
as a soldier lays homeless
dying in at your feet

The worlds went to hell
long ago
Artem Mars Sep 2020
We hexed the moon
We burned downtown
We killed Carlos
We started a plague
We started riots
We almost started a 3rd war
We protested and got shot
We killed our year
We said it would be better
We lied and broke it
We tried and failed it
And now I'm sick of resentment
But we can improve it
It's been quite a while since I wrote something but I'm back for a bit :)
H A Vitatoe Sep 2020
New York
New York
How I
would of
loved you

New York
New York
You've turned
So blue

New York
New York
I may never
see you

New York
New York
What else
can we do

New York
New York
You've seen
Too much

New York
New York
Chaos has
filled your

New York
New York
your future
in loom

New York
New York
Don't be
so gloom

New York
New York
I pray
that you

New York
New York
Those will
Your tomb
H A Vitatoe Sep 2020
I can’t sleep
in my bed.
for the dead.

Get Out!
Get Out!
As they scream
for me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
& Join
the streets.

Get Out!
Get Out!
As I
come out
Too see.

Get Out!
Get Out!
Are those
at  me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
At me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
they scream
I eat.

Get Out!
Get Out!
Come & kneel
at our

Get Out!
Get Out!
Those people
on me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
Death threats
too me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
As they scream

Get Out!
Get Out!
and me.

Get Out!
Get Out!
Too claim
bring  peace.

Get Out!
Get Out!
From History
we'll read.

Get Out!
Get Out!
the streets.
2 in 1 poem
Dark n Beautiful Jul 2020
What is freedom, to breathe, to talk, and to travel?
Oh how we took for granted those past years:

What is freedom summer, here in America?
Where we can still purchase a bottle of cold coke cola for a dollar
But wouldn’t be able to sit on the stoop with friends
Just sipping, and chatting away.

Thinking of a time in history when

Freedom summer was a nonviolent effort by
civil rights activists to
integrate Mississippi's segregated
political, system during 1964.

A poet who knows her history is exceptional
Poets words can sometimes comes off as gossip column

What is freedom?

In 2020 without the interference of
Other countries, city or states…. or the faces of
heart breaking stories of missing persons….
Who took a stroll or jog through the wrong street
And end up in the news while they were
trespassing in Karen’s neighborhood

What is freedom:  not to be cage,
Not to be muffled and not to be Taser by the police:
What is freedom summer of 2020 in New York City.

Freedom always come with a price
Robert Ippaso Jul 2020
Cancel Culture, Black Lives Matter,
Me too movement, Gay rights too,
Social media so much chatter
Have a gripe, just join the queue.

Pro-choice stalwarts, pro-life hawks,
Farm to table, Save the earth,
A world of slogans, countless squawks
A new cause daily sees it's birth.

Sound bites matter, the Media gloats,
Politicians scramble to take the stage,
Armed with purpose and ready quotes.
Often glib and rarely sage.

Where is reason, quiet thought.
Before action and verbal storm,
Popularity not earned but bought,
Measured now by Twitter swarm.

And as to us the silent mass
Forging lives amidst this din,
As we wade through this morass
To crack a smile is no great sin.

An old moral of the sea
Is avoid that siren's song,
Look away and simply be,
Then far less may just go wrong.
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