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Douglas Greene Oct 2020
Just wanting to reside,
a life with no complications,
Not a life with free rides,
or without death and frustrations,

Just a life with reason,
Deserved rewards without rupture,
Just something worth keeping,
I just want guidance and structure...
Kyle T Oct 2020
Fluorescent uplit lights
Throws no shadows
Shows no life
No vestiges therein

Monitors' frontward glow
Radiates no future, no past
Well lit death
No matrix destination

The rows and cubes behold
A conformed neatness
An oppression
A regime built against creation

The soul flutters above
Unseen but seeming
To hold life
The inexorable dullness of life
Had to write this while sitting in my office trying to find the beauty in modern things.
Serena Sep 2020
Children are carefully put-together structures built of popsicle sticks
taken from the mouths of people they admire
and one single broken word
can send it all crashing down
Eliza Fairchild Jun 2020
Tried to break it down
various elements
this or like that
to study, to consult.

Far to know the time
to see it again
Until I found it once more.

It wasn’t my motive
in making it
that matter
but how
A sign to begin again
Bard May 2020
Wanna be someone cool but I'm a loser, I'm a cheat
Wanna get a move on but all I have is my two feet
Watchin my life pass me by everyday on repeat

I've cheated liars I've ran from honest money
I've let late nights and party's create a personality
Ive let it escape me, take over me, become me

Have I made it somewhere with this crown
Have I finally walked enough to be someone
Have I become happy now that I'm not alone

**** if I know but it sure is fun
****, I know I'll never turn
**** its so hot I'm gonna burn

This is a game of chicken with no way to turn
This game full of people who cheat for fun
This life of thrill seekers who just wanna burn

And I've taken my throne king to someone
And as king I wear a heavy metal crown
And with its self righteousness  I sit alone

Its not the reputation, nor the money
Its desperation for people to like me
Exasperation and greed to personality

Someone cool bit of a liar and a cheat
Walkin with all I have my two feet
Every day life happens on repeat
Nolan Willett Apr 2020
I do not feel a desire to rhyme
Nor work within any sort of structure
Traditions are a waste of all our time
And who needs iambic pentameter?
Whoops.
Can we escape convention
Devil Atticman Feb 2020
One hundred men gather to decide their king.

They bring their minds and gold together;
They weave a crown of rope with gilded string,
Then, quietly, it lay before them in the grass

The first man moves to seize the rope,
"See your king with rope in grasp!"
Another comes and yanks it back, "I brought more gold than you!"

Another comes, and another still, 'till every man has seized the rope,
Until it wrapped around the throat of someone in the feud.
"Hold! We've gone too far," said the man whose throat was caught.

The rabble of the hundred men ended as it came,
And each the golden rope held firm; one-hundred men had pulled the knots.
The man who brought the most gold said to the one who seized it first,

"I'd rather you, the first to take the rope, be king!"

The first to lift it said back,
"And I that it were any of you!"
Thoughts on kingdoms and leadership, translated in fun old-timey parable-speak :)
Broken shadows cut
against the corridors

A hand extends up
poetic, delicate, curved

She is leaning against
rigidity, structure, ancient

history, poised like
swans linking necks

In solidarity and confinement
a thin layer of water

is disrupted
by the pitter and patter of children’s

feet
Arms extended out

to catch the wind,
disappearing into the steam
Simon Oct 2019
Logic isn’t focused with poetry. Poetry is purposely alienating logic. Splitting up logics meanings into pieces that can’t be put back together again. Only fitting back together in a more imaginative sense. Imaginative grasp of abstract functions winding up a newer playing field. Playing fields that aren’t taught, until you instinctively bind them back together again. Logic is thinking, right? Feeling makes it subjective. Instincts collapse the two. Rearranging them back into fitting purposes without design of chance. Chance is everywhere. But design is not necessary. Only when there is a purpose in thinking. Feeling is the doppelganger of neurons smashing synapses together. Filling in logic that doesn’t need to be. Again! No design of chance. Chance is everywhere. Feeling interprets the pieces of logic when infused with poetry. Poetry being chance. Chance dominating all aspects of abstract features in its thrall! Poetry becomes infused with logical mimicking. Copying to catch the details of reasoning, interpretations, and analyzation. Repurposing the pieces to remain everywhere. So, it can learn what it means to be separate. If it’s logical, It ain't chance. It’s purely intentional! Making each separate piece its own backing logical platform. Giving rise to more reasoning, interpretations and analyzations. Never repurposing, until it’s ready to unwind itself back to the core. Like a magnet. A magnet with no purpose, rebuilding itself back up again. Diminishing the vulnerabilities of feeling too stretched out. It doesn’t hurt. Yet it’s uncomfortable. Resistance isn’t futile, if it’s a positive process one is nurturing to overcome. Overcoming stresses of desires. One has become too cramped! Cramping the style of the only vessel to hold those aspects together. Abstract features on a timer. Timer equivalent to infinite steps to achieve a goal. A goal of provenance. Provenance without limits knowing when the deed is done. Magnifying the timer to ring! Signalling the imaginative grasps on the newer playing field. How long have those abstract features of aspect attributes knowingly collected new material? And how many abstract features culminated parts of itself from far off reaches, from the original core? Except with time, comes (process inducement). A claim hinting at miniature parts of a whole, becoming their own wholes. Finding their own cores. There center. There true calling. Poetry being the culminating focus of every aspect ever formed. Producing far reaches of perspectives. Overclocking desires newly buffed up on a style that makes simple reasoning, interpretations and analyzation blush constantly!
Poetry being everything one can desire in one focal point. Desires never claiming logic if it hasn't accessed the aspects around itself, first and foremost.
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