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Megan 1d
Your pool of innocence, gets me
I wish I could say mine remains
I am broken
Hide away the remaining
For they are broken and meaningless
Suffering ends now.
To where do those memories go?
My and your soft lips meeting.
Exchanging values and ideas.
But like a conversation gone bad, you had no place in it.
A genius walks a lonely path.

Did our parents really ever "get" us?
Or were they just unfit to even bear the name.
Scoldings, put downs and assaults.
And the result is a childhood of treachery and miscommunication.
A genius walks a thorny path.

Where does a broken child learn they are special?
Feelings of inferiority build architectural grand designs of mental illness and rotting relationships.
And who really survives growing up?
Except me.
A genius rejects adulthood to walk as a child.

Why do the divine watch us?
Is it to see us suffer? To overcome the pangs of suffering and torments?
Is it truly a godlike quality to forgive? When will that be me being taken advantage of?
I know when.
A genius gathers no moss.

Will death come? Am I to respect such a thing?
Why would his hand touch so closely my throat, my brain and my heart.
Are the dreams messages containing factual information? Guides on life?
No, they teach us what we should be to death.
A genius bows his head to the dead.

What is the emptiness and fullness meant to be?
Will full people live on. Scraping by on whatever happiness chance chooses to make them aware of?
Will empty people believe all belief and concept is empty? A form of solipsistic ignorance of both destiny and loved ones.
To become full and empty.
A genius lives to burn, burn out and be brought back to life again.

What is a genius? From the brain of a genius? Eyes that can see through fraud and deception. Including ones own.
Yeah, I mean. Its decent
Lilywhite Feb 22
A war no one wins;
Frustration is a fever,
swelling from within
Mark Feb 16
People are weak, we hurt, we bleed,
People are fragile, we break and we cry,
People are embarrassed.

Embarrassed to accept morality and her worth,
We leave dignity at the door,
Leaving it ajar for deception to creep in.

And in that darkness when we seek a light,
As the last flames of melted candles extinguish,
letting black fill the void.

In that darkness we may learn that light is right.
But people are weak, we hurt, we bleed
People are scared, we pierce and we scream.

Scream, to no avail as no one hears your sobs in the black,
For silence deafens all to the numbness of suffering.
People are weak, we hurt, we die...
Emma Pratt Feb 3
i frequently
weep in silence -
for those i treat well

are the ones who most of all
seek yet to harm me
and label me crazy

because of this
i am lost
and confused

and you,
     i want
               you to suffer
the insanity -

in myself i am aware of this

but the one i call ‘you’ is simply
    and i find that i
          am the cause
                 of my
inspired by the fragments of Sappho
The world grew sick
it happened so quick
and so the people prayed
in spiritual foundations laid

the people went to see
the healers to be set free
hurt souls seek relief
and beyond belief-
     ~the healers got sick

songs lathered in Purell
as the death tolls swell
ringing out the Sioux band’s
cared for with gloved hands
    ~hands that caught rain
       now wracked with pain

Standing Rock tumbles down
as fits of coughs drown
    “My girl, I don’t know what to do-“
the words of a dying healer
once free to roam
in death
kept far away from her  home

When they pass on
all that knowledge gone
the words and ways of old
lost as voices go cold

Breath taken away
also yesterday
is gone around the bend
ways of old set to end
     -the sacred fire untended

No more secret Candy
or cherished smiles
veterans vanquished
peacemakers in pieces:

Bear Soldier
Running Antelope
Cheryl and Jesse Taken Alive

lovers from the start
Cheryl and Jesse died
only a month apart
holes in the Taken Alive heart

Their moccasins remain still
big shoes for others to fill
Standing Rock’s hills rolling
as graves keep filling
  ~the healers got sick
     hands that caught rain
     now wracked with pain
     the sacred fire untended

... still, the fire burns
out of the ashes, Nola, a child
of those Taken Alive learns
to hear the call of the wild

Young pup’s paws will fill the boots in time
though Standing Rock’s still,
still it stands
rain to be caught by fresh hands
new ears record the tree’s chime

“We’re still here,” Nola said
Taken Alive stands still
at Standing Rock
The Indigenous people of North America are being disproportionately affected by COVID-19. Indigenous elders are dying at a rate of 2:1 in comparison to White North Americans.

This poem was inspired by the true lives and stories of the people of Standing Rock and other Indigenous communities.
A Poem-tribute to Star Wars.  

     "Those manipulating the takeover of Humanity will fail."
                                                             Catherine Austin Fitts            

You’re spreading your tentacles
into galactic territories
Like a stubborn octopus falsely
Believing owning the whole sea
You spur chaos and personify chaos
To shrink the celestial Chronos
To usurp the balance of the equilibrium
But arising from the ashes of chaos
To look at you straight in the eyes
Standing flat-footed on the Eternal Light
Dusting off the false paradigm
Of life and death
The real heroes of humankind
Here they come
The rebels
The revolutionaries
The true believers
The freedom fighters
The peacebuilders
The radical thinkers
The justice warriors
The non-conformists
The non-conventionals
The Most High God worshipers.

Here they come
You enrobe yourself
With the magnificence of your pride
Skillfully branding us as the enemy
But what we see
Between the heavenly opaque veil
It’s the fall of attraction.
Your arrogance
And your self-aggrandizement
Against the Truth
Are color-coded keys to your downfall.

Here they come
Watch what happens
You didn’t see it coming.
© 2021copyrighted material provided for educational purposes only.
Power of speech

I stop squeezing my mind
For what happened to me
Since I scavenged
For my philosophical stone
In a deforming mirror
I had to look forward to cracking
Any astrological luck left
On my shoulders
Stretching me to the limit
Of defying gravity
while leaving behind
A convoy of scattered stars.

What if I could make gold with gold
Think like Leonardo Da Vinci
Write a  computer code
like Tim Berners-Lee?...
I wasn't trying to square the circle
Nor invent my own immaculate conception.
All I wanted to accomplish is
To speak and be heard.

A wall between walls whispers
To the darkness
That my saddlebag of hopes
Has been lost regretfully
Last autumn
in the stream of an unsuspected wind.
Let's get this clear
Once and for all
I may not have any hope to talk about,
Don't  expect  me to shut up
until I die with my mouth full of words.
© 2021copyrighted material provided for educational purposes only
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