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Rosas witten Dec 2024
Slow song playing on DVD
Glass of lemonade in the hand
Swirling through each lyric and melody
How difficult it can get
A slightest short night

Negotiations with a cunning master
Testing how skilled I can be
The core of patience
Almost cost me

How the dark !
Turn from cold to fire
A micro second,
Tables turn
The worst could shatter innocent angels

Reflection
Cause of tremor genesis
How we gotten through
A cry of regret

Drinking green lemonade
Wish for sweetness
Amidst sour

Time travel
To an era where
Morals treasured like silver
Respect handled like crystal
Honesty valued like a museum
Jack Groundhog Dec 2024
In the days when we first chipped stone
and carved from earth long lines of chalk,
we set in place rock circles honed
to hear the nature spirits talk.

The hurried sun wheeled all around
these massive stones we made to stand,
casting shadows on this fertile ground
that tell us when to sow this land.

Then came the age of bronze first wrought.
We built our temples where oracles spoke
foretelling how our world was caught
in snares and schemes of gods provoked.

But tin and copper fell to iron;
A new temple grew upon Zion’s hill,
as gods to just one god would turn —
iron presaged dark satanic mills.

Another grain in the hourglass fell:
the sharpened skill of work in steel.
Our churches rose with tales to tell
which called us to in sackcloth kneel.

We wedded iron with coke and steam
to summon power, rip from earth
all we ever craved: a false dream
of boundless bounty, endless worth.

From one old god to a new model,
religious in the cult of me,
prepackaged for our blind apostles,
Mammon’s black seed sowed eagerly.

This seed turned slick with silicon
from which grew fiberoptic veins
injected with an ****** balm:
A new cult idol it became.

Today the circle’s stones are laid
in server nets that span the globe,
with oracle influencers well paid
to infantilize our frontal lobe.

Bright magic mirrors in our hands
with retina screen technology:
Tech prophets lead to this promised land
of unkept promises to fill false needs.

The circle’s silicon steles stand:
new dark satanic mills for today.
A mock Jerusalem holy land,
bare desert where chalk lines once lay.

In this waste I find an old stone axe
of flint and oak and red deer’s thread.
Its polished head still bears the cracks
from when we first on this path were led.
Draws on various authors, books, and themes that I think about a lot, in particular William Blake, John Milton, James Burke (in particular the book “The Axemaker’s Gift”), Alvin and Heidi Toffler (“Future Shock”, “The Third Wave”), Rachel Carson (“Silent Spring”), Neil Oliver’s BBC documentary on the history of ancient Britain, and and more.
Emery Feine Dec 2024
Am I just so hilarious to look at?
Do I just make you giggle?
Do I make you roar with laughter?
Do I? Huh, do I?
Am I just that entertaining?
So hideously hilarious?
this is my 136th poem, written on 11/30/24
TR3F1LD Feb 2023
на высокоразвитыми существами планете
кишащей, как мухами - падаль, уж двЕ ты–
–сячи двадцать, блин, третий
год; эпоха просвещенья, права человечьи
и неприятье агрессий, сдержки и противовесы
знаний обществе–
–нно-исторических за боле чем 2 десятка столетий
несметная тьма в интернете (тьма)
[увы, ограничиваемом и доступном не всем]
но в Пандоры машине
биотканевой, в шлемообразном скелете
укрытой, как за в слоёв несколько лака облепле–
–нными стенами сгнившего имперского шкафа скелеты
чёртова содержится тьма!
[2 вида тьмы: алчность и порождаемые ею недобродетели; невежество]
оттого часть человечества по[а]-
прежнему бредёт неблагоприятной тропой
ведётся, аки являясь овцой или как на приманку морской
обитатель, охвачен чей стан чешуёй
мнящими себя имеющими право, вождями с ручной
обслугой; так как зашёл
словно сил оккупантских конвой
в землепространство одной
страны, удароподобно двинув с плацдарма другой
дискурс, небезопасным является кой
в государствах, где царствует строй/мной
вышеподразумеваемый мной/строй (царствует)
предпочту дале рассказец я свой
завуалировать, словно лик пред ритуальщиной брачной - фатой
(пользуясь случаем, лингвоэкспертам)
(судебным, глумясь)
(тёплый, как блюдолизское место)
(приветец шлю Я)
————————————————————————————————
мыслетелепортом - в этап временной
когда надвигался, як войск имперского завоевателя рой
год две тысячи двадцать второй
средневековый зАмок большой
своего рода град, что обставлен стеной
["осаждённая крепость"]
символично запоминается кой
словно отворяющей портал в преисподню
вытянутой в колпак каланчой
с присобаченной над ней пятипалой фигнёю
[иерархическая вертикаль]
символизм; оного ради не мешало бы в траура слой
окутать колпак тот, чтоб он напоминал ведьмовской
фальши град, оной о–бёрнуто
строя царящего порочное всякое, как мишурой
тактика ёлкопо–добная
(но, как было ране упомянуто, лак показной)
(скрывает, что шкаф есть гнилой)
в системе внутреустройства - тотальный застой
не в ладах с головой
и прожорливые верхи, и низы, что являются
в большинстве своём, темнотой
["...внизу - власть тьмы, а наверху - тьма власти"]
продолжается/не прекращается
там давний запой
одурманенности ступень шаг за шагом повышается
в итоге предсказуемо срывая башню, как voice
из западных врат замка/града необъятного
вывалившись, сформированной заране ордой
тамошние стражники врываются
к исторически соседствующим знакомым домой
после чего, будто бы внявши сло[а]–
–вам Нойза, учиняют дестрой
[Noize MC]
(feels like something on the lines of a)
(free fall down in the void)
"они нетрезвы, начатая нами кампания
она с задачей благой"
из этого исходя, получается
происходящее - не иначе как cha[ɑ]rity firm (компания)
"соберизация
[soberization]
задачей является той"
плетут одноголосно
инфо-попугаи внутри алкопритона
насчёт жертвою оного ставшего дома
велика в Тьмаграде покорность
и конформизм, невелика просвещённость
деалкоголизации солнце валяется зА горизонтом
в состоянии анабиозном
originally published 24th February 2023 on one of the author's socials

"надвигался 2022-ой" by TR3F1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
Skepticalmind Nov 2024
Beneath the shining pearl of night
lies the calm sea
reflecting on its surface the starlight
like a silent plea

the soft waves hit the shore
creating a symphony
a quiet murmur, full of stories
the light sways on the surface
like dancers in a ballroom
coordinated with the stars
like sailors exploring the unknown

Beneath the surface,
lies a world of mystery
an untold book of tales
Is it a cave of hidden turmoil?
or is it a haven for relaxation?
until its revelation,
its a realm of secrets
a chamber of hidden truths
that shall not be revealed,
whether it's to protect Man
or to shield it from Man
tried to experiment with rhymes and free writing at the same time, thought the transition was necessary to show the shift from the tranquility of the sea to the deeper philosophical view, but you tell me if it works :)
Kaiden Lewis Nov 2024
In this world, to gain success,
You have to start young.
Why?
Because grown-ups aren't that special, silly.

When a child draws a picture
It's more special that if an adult made it.
The younger you start, the more talented you seem
Even if it's not true.

As a child i wrote a story and was labeled "gifted".
Now if i wrote the same thing, i would be a degenerate.
Your skills are supposed to grow along with your age.
So this is why you have to start young,
To be valid at least for a while.
A thought i had since i was a child, made it simply by observation
Maria Etre Nov 2024
What a word
It is deep enough
and when said
at the right time
it changes the narrative
paths, worlds, hearts...

"LIKE"
Not only are we similar
but the emotions
the word has are light and heavy
enough to show the likeness, laced with love,
with a heartbeat, a mind-beat

And adding the word "wise"
Oouufff
you have to be wise
to use the word likewise -
because for you to be
similar you are at that mental wit
to say it, feel it, think it

"I (insert emotion) you so much"
"likewise"

Now,
that's a game-changer
Maria Etre Nov 2024
Someone told me
"love looks at decent
ones "

I nodded, sighed, and smirked
but love
made me
like
this

Unleashed my curls
broke my walls
shattered
my people-pleasing
sharpened my poetry
silenced my loud voice
widened my eyes
encouraged my heart
undressed my façade
made me dance naked
in the face of judgement,
sing the songs of truth
and fall in love with
all things wrong
right, left, ugly, beautiful
and gave strength
to the choice that
always stood in the back
but now takes center stage

"Love left me right",
"Love leaving, made me write"
I replied
*Right, write!
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2024
Life's about the suffering
Peace a destination
What is more important
Is what happens duration

Impossible to self-pardon sins
Plagued with doubt and fear
What if darkness creeping within
Sronger than the light inhabiting here?

Worrying is not worth the toll
I have to pay my dues
No one can walk path for me
Don't wear the same size shoes

Each break and bruise instruction
Finish line forever unknown
Happy endings fantasy
Majority synthetic like silicon

It has to shift before we surrender
To assimilation of society
In-between consciouslessness
And controlled compliancy

After Point A wandered astray
Point B hopeless cause
Meandering sheep in a deluded daze
Progression practically on pause

Creativity and cerebration rare
Killed in each as a child
Brainwashed being obedient
Different labeled 'wild'

Those in power yearn to program every step
Shaping image to fit their mold
Corrupt agenda is nothing new
Most don't realize they are trapped in their hold

I want to lead uprising
But I simply am too afraid
Remember when surroundings were calmer
Present for past I desperately long to trade

We had plenty of time to correct behavior
There is an existing disconnect
From planet earth and each other
Too immersed in screens for paths to intersect

A thousand unanswered questions
In silence reality is revealed
Up to us to find purpose in this dimension
Stumbling blindly through this battlefield

We are closer to cliff than we realize
Inching towards edge each day passing by
Shadows halting vision with uncertainty
Wings clipped so we are unable to fly
About the way society is in relation to our government and just how we have been regressing and it's exactly what those in power want. Wake the **** up people, especially Americans!
Roxy Nov 2024
Born in a cyber age
of this global disruption,
"What's your hobby?", - you'll ask.
I'll reply:
"Self-destruction."
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