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Gabriel burnS Jun 2017
I don't want to be
a heartbroken Daedalus.
Let me have those wings
so I could be
the one to burn
carefree
into the sun
selfish, ignorant, oblivious.
Not grieving and delirious.
Incinerate this youth,
this dream to the root;
an instant ball of flames,
so but memory remains.

* * *

Cut my wings before I'm high
Are you my Daedalus?
We're not mature enough to fly.
I'm not your Icarus.
I'd rather be the liver
of Prometheus,
not himself who did deliver
hope to those oblivious,
misusing now his fire...

* * *

I'd rather be the liver of Prometheus
than live in this illusion of deliverance
The more you know, the more you're faced with ignorance;
and ignorance defeats you with experience

I'd rather be the wings of Icarus
and know the smell of burning feathers
than have a tomb stone like the one of Sisyphus,
no longer strong to push it from the nether
3 oldies sharing a common theme (no point in separating them)
Hailey G Jun 2017
Dust mites and terabytes.
A simple recipe for humanities blights.
Thoughts form not into structures,
but paper you keep forgetting to take out of your pocket
when you throw your jeans into the dryer.
Flyers online consume our nation
as society mimics intimacy
through the twist and turns of an online server.
Just out of touch enough
to create the illusion of choice.
A high IQ regains the reality of vision
further blocked by the rose tinted glasses
hanging on the wall of every store.
What use is hiding behind a screen
when the only enamored party you have
is the one you've fabricated in your head.
White noise on the monitor
brittle and bitter loathing
excited by nothing but
the something under bed.

#speakless
#feelmore?
#twittering
all such useless noise.

Action is essential -
"pessimism of the intellect
optimism of the will"
wrote Gramsci, rotting in his cell.

Machine gun fire from my fingertips;
I feel the words flow like some
maelstrom of masculine violence
on some long lost mental battlefield
some monolith of shame,
Monkeys.

You don't speak, you don't listen
you're encased in your own cage.
So am I. Alive half-dead,
brittle to the core with the
threat of indifference.
Dead with the action of knowing that one is at peace
with it, the fear of the self, divided
  -in two
blue? Oh yes, blue blue blue, blue blue blue.

Red pill, blue pill, truth.
Yawn, boring internet culture.
Yawn the squalid indifference.
Yawn the 21st century
Yawn the 22nd century etc etc
Yawn the suffocating critic,
Yawn your inaction,
Yawn my pretension,
Yawn my failed attempts at caring -
Not natural.

"Yes very clever, post it on the wall and
gain applause from the decaying crowd" she says,
"as they self implode out the echoes of
emptiness, measured monolith"

I scrawl -
"no more of this".
Burning brain can crush and does frequently so don't tempt
it to go Godzilla, I can do it with ease.
Crush cities in my mind. Bombastic ******* when push
and shove meet in urban jungles.

Painful Pan Pen Ease, woodland industrial spirit crush
Boom.

The title is a clue,
Go away.
Leila Whitney Jun 2017
Society is currently a haze.

Trying to cover the polluted air and water.
It has made it seem alright to exclude yourself from the chemical slaughter.

  Can you not hear the suffering. Because  do. I hear it in the buzzing of cars from my bedroom window.
I hear it in the emptiness of my neighborhood park with swings swaying low.

   I would not wish it upon anyone to live in the blissful seclusion.
I am sorry to burst your bubble, to break your illusion.

The world is dying as society is hiding that you could make an impact.
Do not be blinded by its technological act.

   Is it just me who wants to feel?
It cannot be just me who wants this world to heal.

I crave to truly experience my surroundings.
While others just want to move on and I find it confounding.

   Is your eyesight impaired.
How is your anger not flared?

The world is dying right before you.
Reaching for your help, yes it’s true.

Is it that your heart’s not open to beauty that cannot be painted?
For our dear world is in the midst of being tainted.

And yet you sit with phone in hand enshrouded in the smoke of cigarettes’ long draws.
Try to look beyond those four walls.

You can take action against the polluting of our earth.
Because it is not mine or yours. It's the birds in the trees earth, it is the grass moved by the breezes earth.

It is not our job to poison.
So I understand your avoidance, I do.

But if I can change so can you!

I want to be fueled by feelings.
By my fear of what is to come.
For I fear a static presence an unchanged future.
Society tells me to forget it.
That it is not my problem to deal with.

Oh how it is wrong, this is my problem and it's your problem and it's his and it's hers and it's all of the above.

It is all of our problems-
´but it is not just that.

It is also our privileges.
Our privilege to walk among-st nature.

To have the power to impact such a glorious creation.
To be it's very salvation.

Society can tell you many things, but it is your choice to open your eyes to the pain, and to the wonder.
I wrote this a very long time ago and I´d like to rewrite it better one day. Today´s not that day
Em MacKenzie Jun 2017
They say to keep your eyes open, but your mind closed,
leave your thoughts unspoken
and your body exposed.
We hold such value to anyone who holds a heart,
and when all is said and done we rip ourselves apart.

I've never been one to wake up in the morning,
I love living my life to look at the stars.
You experience complete peace without any kind of warning,
and if you look hard enough you can sometimes see Mars.

If you go back to the year 1944,
sixteen year olds were coming back from war,
and now in today in 2017,
an adolescent is a child and an adult a teen.

We're so far from our natural state,
our entire species is cursed with cancer.
When we were hunter-gatherers we were doing great,
But we thought preserved food was the better answer.

Most live their lives now in a camera,
forever looking for one more person's approval.
Trying to reach a standard of Marilyn or Pamela,
but a step forward would be technological removal.

Let's look back to around 1970,
when people were still struggling with equality,
And most likely by the year 2020,
we'll be oppressed and depressed by the plenty.
SheOfNeverland May 2017
The sun has risen already, has hidden
Already behind the clouds that
Cover this town and all
Its ***** little secrets.
Bees surround me with sound
To blot out the profound thoughts
Swimming around in my mind
Without a hope to find
An answer to life.
What once was a tree is now
A path for the power lines,
We cut down what lies in the way
Of a "better day" where screens
Dictate what it means to be alive.
How can I see what's next when
There is no magical text to give
Me solace when my heart pounds
And the silence shakes the ground
Beneath my weary feet.
We're drones on our phones put
On a path lain out by the wrath
Of ages, progression or regression
Depends on your perspective.
Alyssa May 2017
I scroll through many pictures, from many friends
But they aren't friends.
They are simple just faces with a name set in front of them
with no soul, just a technological aura.
You don't know where their lives have gone,
what deep dark roads their minds have decided to take.
But what you do know is the way they do their hair, or their makeup.
You know a generalized assumption of who or what they are.
Soul's no longer seem to have meaning,
not like they once did.
Children will completely develop by the age 13,
With fake eyelashes and acrylic nails,
but when I was thirteen the only thing on my nails was the stains
from the mud in which I used to once play in.
Poverty ridden streets are just as ridden with $2,000 dollar cameras to capture the pain in someones life,
yet no change is given.
One day greediness and selfishness will be awarded
when the neediness is outshined
and selflessness is seen to be crazy.
We live in a TV,
and the streets are the circuits.
The government is running us,
worse than a circus.
This was random and it;s kinda ******,
James Court May 2017
Hey Siri,
Which suits me better - the red, or the blue?

Hey Siri,
Where did I leave my keys?

Hey Siri,
Why doesn't she love me?

Hey Siri,
Who cares?

Hey Siri,
Did my housemate use my coffee mug?

Hey Siri,
Will I enjoy that new Woody Allen movie?

Hey Siri,
Do I look tired?

Hey Siri,
Am I crazy?

Hey Siri,
Do you think I'll ever truly be happy?

Hey Siri,
If you don't answer me, how will I know?
Ira Desmond May 2017
We have many ideals,
but we do not seem to have idealists anymore.

We have droves of problem solvers,
but we do not seem to have solutions anymore.

We have endless media discourse,
but we do not seem to have dialogue anymore.

We have unrestrained capitalism,
but we do not seem to have money anymore.

We have innumerable drugs,
but we do not seem to have treatment anymore.

We have scores of Baby Boomers,
but we do not seem to have elders anymore.

We have unlimited vacation days,
but we do not seem to have days off anymore.

We have incalculable amounts of information,
but we do not seem to have facts anymore.

We have regular, established elections,
but we do not seem to have elected officials anymore.

We have America,
but we do not seem to have a nation anymore.
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