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Man Jun 25
Where is the break in our dark,
Where is illumination?
Vis-à-vis, a rational light.
For the contrast is stark
Between those who laze
And those who fight

Real values, and genuine ideals
Beliefs, not steeped, in a false virtue
And causes and movements, the same.
Do they still remain?
In the classes, in the fields,
At home? Never feeling near.

Where is the change?
Abeer Apr 15
Right, left, at ease soldier
Home is far you reside in fear now
You harvest the blood of your brothers
To a lost cause, on a mere madman
At ease soldier, At ease
The lunatics is the air, it's just not you
The paper holds your credentials and a column
For if your head explodes, rearranged till your sane
At ease soldier,
It's a cloud burst, don't panic
I see you on the red spot of Jupiter
Now hide till September
Brian Turner Oct 2022
Stark, definition. ..gut, gross, hart, stabil
Stark world, stark value
Driven by obsessive digital noise
Driven by the need to control the narrative

Dark, definition..with little or no light
Dark world, darker world
Driven by people with dark voices
Driven by the need to bleed

Bark, definition ...loud noise that a dog and some other animals make
Bark world, full of 'other' animals
Driven by the need to be heard
Driven by the need to be part of the pack
This poem is an experiment. I don't  know if it works or not.
Man Nov 2020
i saw an odd ball of light the other day
and thought it must've been an airliner,
but it was a god's ocular
sizing me up

so when it crossed my mind
i took hold of it,
"let him look"

up, at the black overhead
grimacing at me
i shouted

"well, old man? what's the verdict?"
and all the stars shone down

in the tiny cracks, that they cut through the sky
i swear i heard
John McCafferty Feb 2020
Stark trees on the hill line
intertwine with the sky
Their branches be parted
bent by the wind

Sourced from a height
Droplets dance
Ripples spit
Wet doesn't quit

No gold in sight
at ten degrees
Given what is seen
only green grey and white
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
April Jul 2019
It was the day several years ago. Sunny as it is today.
It was you sitting at the desk,
outlining the halo deflected from the words.
Tranquilness fell next to your feet
had the sound of a tropical ocean when you stepped on it.

It was the day several years ago. Rainy as it was yesterday.
It was you dashing out of the awning,
pounding the haze to the beat of the laughters.
Drops spilled on the cup rim
had the color of a stayed-up night when you looked at it.

It was the hill flamed with red flowers. Blossoming as it will be tomorrow.
It was you lighting a cigarette,
standing in the pure white clouds.
Particles colliding with one other. Ruptures being exposed.
I stood in the shadow underneath the gorge,
watching time flowing by with sparkles floating on the breeze.

You were up there smiling at me,
unaware that it was even darker
when you spreading the petals on the stream.
Isabella Howard Jun 2019
A city of strange sights
Something sinister is hiding beyond the lights

Your comfortable ignorance blinds you from the war
I wonder if the fight is worth it anymore

The calm babble of a fountain near
Contrasts the cries for help barely reaching my ear

The place where our humanity is lost
And we leave one another to rot

I used to think myself a giving person
But I have since learned my lesson

I ask a man with a bourgeoisie air
For change to help pay my train fare

His face tightens when he looks at me

I spent it all on overpriced coffee,"

And for another night I'm stuck here
Matthew Jan 2019
Lively and Jumping
A vibrance felt
in a Bright display
of Human Beauty

Its lights beckoning
One step forward;
Dead Darkness
Isolating me
From them
The second life lived
in the small Room
Haunting Ballads
Drag me closer
Insidious, blighted
It is forever
I'm trying to convey unsure emotion
duang fu Jan 2019
is a mother yelling over the sound of the dishwasher
hanging grapes that dry against the yolk-orange wall
the local boy with mud under his nails
and the girl that smells like new york city
loud sunlight upon the hush still river
brown rust eating up white paint
father's office suit in the back of his dusty Jeep
screeching tires that tear past red-light lines
blood red sprinkles on the roadside's white daisies
birthday cake swallowed in tears

don't let these worlds collide,
they say -
for it only brings chaos
suburban cacophony hurts your ears
with a truth ugly to the eyes
leaves an imprint
like a sharp pendant pressed to the chest
written sept 3 2018
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