Jack awoke in his usual pain, un-
daunted by it. We're all gonna die
someday is his morning mantra these days.
Isolate the variable, anything
you do to one side of the equation
you gotta do to the other. Practice
zen, eat less, an empty belly's holy.
These are the rules for old men waiting.

On the other hand, attachment to self
and to things to do. Clean the house, watch for war.
Count syllables, teach English to immigrants
from Slovakia or Syria.
Advocate vocational education
in the schools. Jack has much to do, a new
administration, low social security.
He goes slow as the day will allow.
--title from a novel by Peter Pouncey
HTR Stevens Jul 30
We can write words of gratitude on paper,
    Or to all the world her virtues make known,
    Or ev’n pour forth our love to her in measure,
    But, in vain, try to move her heart of stone…!

Here is a friend who taught us much we need to know:
Right from wrong and weak from strong,
                                                   Lit and English, too;
All this time she’s been working steadily tho’ slow –
She’s stol’n our hearts ‘ithout even attempting to woo!

…One day we will remember, tho’ some wish not to,
These days of pain and pleasure, we all have in school;
There are those you thank for every small thing they do
But how to thank her who made a person of you?

    We can write words of gratitude on paper,
    Or to all the world her virtues make known,
    Or ev’n pour forth our love to her in measure
        Oh…! Oh…! How to move her heart of stone?

May our sorrowful year with you remain in our memory
As a farewell serenade, a sad and tearful melody.
Parents teach their children to believe in God,
but not to believe in themselves,
They give their children phones,
but they don't teach them how to communicate,
They tell them to clean their room,
but not to clear their mind,
They teach them how to ride a bike,
but not how to meditate,
They get their children new videogames,
but don't teach them playing with people's feelings is not okay,
They teach them not to talk to strangers,
but not how to speak up for themselves,
They pay a tutor for their children so they can get good grades,
but when they show signs of depression they don't get them a therapist, because "you're still a kid, you don't need it, it's all in your head anyway".

And then, we wonder, why kids nowdays are so messed up.
I want to learn
How to cry
Let me see
How it feels
To burn my wings
I crave to hear those voices
In the dark
Let me see how it feels
To be insane
Letting it out will be a sin
So I will keep it in
Teach me now
Then disappoint me again
That moment when you're so low that you let your inner demons out for all to see.
Amanda Jul 17
They bite us.
They beat us.
They throw us off buses.
All in the name of teaching us a lesson.  

They murder us.
They brutalise us.
They protest in their defence
And blame us,
All in the name of teaching us a lesson.  

A young girl returned home from a movie,
And god did they hurt her for it.
There were protests for her,
Thousands of women chanting for her.
Every woman felt pain for her,
All in the name of teaching us a lesson.

But still,
They hold us down.
But still,
They contort our bodies to their will.
But still,
They force us to endure such agony,
All in the name of teaching us a lesson.
For Jyoti Singh.

We remember you.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 16
Read teachings by ponds
He will help light up my life
Appealing wonder
Slowly and gradually feeling more and more positive.
More and more hopeful!
Lyn xxx
Helena Jul 5
On the way  home
I saw a giant billboard
and it said
"being a millionaire is just a few
clicks away"
And through tainted windows
I saw millions
clicking away
and the drivers
angry at the traffic

and i wondered
if maybe we should
teach our kids
to count to one million
reasons to be alive
I AM the river that roars
And razes lost souls
I am hard
Cold as arctic ice
Yet free running liquid
I will teach you

To live for yourself is free
Others need not impede

I AM the sound that rings and screams
And sears your ears
But your screams are silenced
By my vicious jeers
I will teach you

Live with fruitful abandon
Bury those who disgagree

I am the darkest most vile maw
My breath fresh
My teeth unseen
I will teach you
I will disappoint you
And then, I'll smile

I know your soul
Worst and best
I am vengeance
Stray, and you're next
The tale of the Red Man, the antagonist of the Vacancy Saga
Bryce Jun 7
I almost cried thinking about you.
Your soul
all the tall tales you spun
spiders dancing across the stars now
I miss you
I never knew you
I want to
so badly
it hurts

You'd hate it here
they bastardized you
sold your words for a dime
those jewels you saw in the night
just rocks.

that is, now
Nobody wanted that fantastic ruby sky
and piss-green mossy aquamarine
now we stare at screens.

They'll kick you off the train
eye you with suspicious gaze
if they catch you all alone
spun along some interstate

We can't do what you did anymore
try as we want to.

No running from the law
or responsibility
or inevitability
or anything quite like that

and the only time i spoke to god
he told me there was places for me to see
somewhere for me to be
someone for me to meet
and i still don't know
what that means...

I didn't have no writing buddy
my buddy left for the dusty drone of Bakersfield
and now i'm all alone
Disenchanted and enthusiastic
about all the things everyone hates
and the history that keeps sifting
like sand through the lobes of my skull

Jack, come back
give me a minute or two
maybe a vision of my wildest dreams
I'd love so much to talk to you

I keep dreaming and seeing the beauty that lies in the center of the
Tao, that long winding tao
of ancient street
with no shoes worn here in San Francisco
that imaginary terminus you dreamed
not here, silly me.
I started here
you wound your end through here

I don't know what mine'll be
Not a hemorrhage
of the brain
since that's where my troubles lie
or my prostate,
since that's where my vision lies
yours was the stomach
that great trust in gut
it let you down
and lifted you up

God didn't give me that at all
he gave it to you
oh how freeing that must have felt
to know
A man like Kerouac comes once in a hundred years. that poor tortured soul-- what I wouldn't give to get to know.
Yusof Asnan May 4
He'd come in your
darkest hour.
Pull you out to
the light.
Cleaned you up.
Teach you who to
never fall again.
And by then, He
will release you
of your sorrows.

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