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Neon Robinson Oct 2017
Is burrowing a web
weaving a collection,
accumulating an anthology

For a far gone day
Stash them away
set them aside with a
what, when, why

rather than right
now ambitious zeal

discoverable.
findability.

Its the nature of the undertaking.
My minds an unavoidable reciprocal
Gratified by wasting time,
It’s just there filling space

Tucked away for a rainy day
In every nook and cranny

Tickling the fancy.

Affording a kind of intellectual gusto
that's borderline deplorable
accumulatively downright trifling.

Nonetheless,
even if it's unnecessary
I'll never get my fill
paper to hand typing away
uncovering all of life's mysteries
pa3que Feb 16
“alice, drink the potion”
they said,
“we all think
you’re a little mad.”

oh, but truly,
can’t you see?
in most cases
madness is the key.

why be fragile?
don’t collapse,
rather take some
of my stash.

hidden goods,
with you i’ll share,
just to show,
i really care.

underground,
to Wonderland,
darlin’ now, come,
take my hand.

we’ll tap-dance
from outta here,
“stop resisting!”,
they’re too near.

you’re almost there,
but then you crack,
(“was it too much?”)
they lock you up
like a maniac.
buying the operator off
is such a bonzer
notion
the whiff of currency
ensuring lofty
promotion

money does the talking
at that particular
place
speaking ever so crudely
was an utter
disgrace

but a most unfortunate
day would soon
arrive
when the wallet ran
out of paying
contrive

the avarice shown by
ye collecting
master
knew no end in its
voracious
caster

once he'd extracted
every bit of
cash
he moved onto the
next aspirant's
stash
Blue May 2018
my eyes were open for two years
fear, I couldn't close them, even when it was so clear

what had I just signed up for,
you swore, why are we in a civil war

waiting for you to just ******* crash
but with your stash, you're having a blast

drifting away from reality,
carefree, giving me the third degree, you lost me

control couldn't save you
and neither could I
I knew we just both had to survive
I felt weak, but now I know I was strong
my eyes were tired for being open for so **** long

you didn't just crash, you ******* burned
you burned all of your bridges with no where left to turn
flight or fight, fright, I can't trust you without a ******* knife,
I closed my eyes, finally, and I suddenly gained all sight

I didn't need a reason to help you
but maybe I wanted to close my eyes again
maybe I wanted peace, a close to an end

because for two years,
I couldn't close my eyes
so thank you
now I am wise
Arjun Raj Apr 2017
Well, I sat down to write a happy one,
But all I can think of is the need to make more money,
As the song “Blue Christmas” played along to the thoughts inside my head,
As if the symphony and melodrama hung around to make me take the leap,
Of faith, grit and courage,
The one that will help me fly like an eagle they say
Or maybe take the free fall like the dead duck
straight from that 90’s video game, duck hunt, I say
Either which way, I will get to fly for a while,
But why fly high for just a while,
when you can cruise at the same height
with the stash kept clean and ready to be lit,
I sat down to write again,
A happy one this time for sure, I said to myself
As I lit, and flew all over again
Chris Neilson Mar 2017
Racing white Audis with black leather seats
overpriced apartments and penthouse suites
the overpowering stench of ill-gotten gains
steroidal meat-heads with reduced brains

A section of society without respect
a grasp on reality at best suspect
always wrong but never to blame
flaunting wealth and lacking in shame

Worshipping at the alter of materialism
swaggering past the homeless with egotism
some are privileged sons and daughters of the rich
he's definitely a ******* and she's probably a *****

Leaving half an eaten expensive lunch
this exclusive elite are an unlovely bunch
I've never had much money so I don't miss it. This piece is aimed at those who have wealth NOT through honest hard work
Alifah Ilyana Jan 2017
What a revelation,
slowly understanding you, that is.
Your humility and silence were a thousand words unspoken and unwritten.
Somehow,
I could only imagine the unspoken love you harbour for the unspoken girl.

Such envy I feel, yet,
I shan’t do anything about this envy.
Not this time.
Not ever again.
But wait,
I never did.

Sure,
I say that now,
But maybe,
one day, when we’re older,
and wiser.
I’ll take the chance and ask again.
Break the ice, and melt away the strain.

But here I am,
already attracted to another smile.
A little I wrote in the middle of my first semester, I'm in my second.
Julie Grenness Aug 2016
Our daily life and its trash,
Our shadows and secrets in a stash,
One day we'll be ancient lives,
Not strictly business, once did thrive,
All lost in the translation
to trash, our sacred institutions,
The mixed views of the robots,
For humans, they'll have soft spots,
All our shadows in a stash,
Secrets of daily life in trash!
Feedback welcome.

— The End —