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Nolan W Apr 15
A vanquished myopia,
A loving utopia,
Wiped away with phobia,
I meet Sophia,
A Luzuriaga Mar 13
I know naught of the difference between the living and the dead. For here on Earth, though my heart is still beating, I cannot help but feel so horribly miserable. And it may be death is not the end of life, only the decay of the body and not of the soul, but I should not know in this life.  At the end of this miserable existence, we may be relieved by a euphoria. Still, at the end of a life so fruitful, we may be met with the burning pits of ****. And if I will not rot nor prosper all my miserable days would be meaningless. Every time I think I know heaven, a **** must break my spirits. And still, it is more dreadful to met by a boring bleakness that hugs my existence like a child holds their mothers. To my knowledge, I may already be dead, as no one recognizes the characteristics of death. Life to our knowledge could be our own form of ****, but it may also be the utopia. Here on this dying planet, we may live beautiful lives. On this dying planet, we will die. Our heartbeat is the ticking of a clock that will stop one day. But the clock that is the world will not stop for you my love, as it will not stop for me. Everything that is, will not be one day. The sun and the moon and all the treasures of this world will one day be nothing. All the people that are here now will not be. Everything must die, you and I dearest, we will die all the same. Time is a force older than anyone knows and it will never end. We are only here until we aren't. Our bodies end there, but where does our soul go. I know naught of the difference between the living and the dead. Because my flesh is fresh, but my mind is old. But on the inside, I feel decay. Live because there tomorrow isn't guaranteed. Live because you can. If you live for me, I'll live for you. The meaning of life, I don't think there is one really. We just do, we just live. That's all there is.
live for me darling
gabrielle Mar 7
wherein my love is great
but dangerous to what may occur
brought me in utopia,
would fall in nostalgia.
caught in a glimpse of heaven -
  i was without you,
  never loved me then.
now im torn in **** or heaven
Eddie Feb 10
We are mere men
A pathetic shell of our former glory
My hand will always be reaching forward
To the heavens
Hoping to glimpse a pinprick
Of Gods cleansing light
We are nothing
But shadows in an image of the divine

You werent always this human
This weak
The immortal soul inside
Looking out just beneath your icy gaze
Will always yourn for what it once held close
Forever is a long time.
Yet, they say,
to feel its endlessness
Is blissful.

Does the fragile chick long to leave the egg?
Or does it live without choice, forced by nature and instinct to carve its way to freedom?

In this way,
the deep recesses of your mind will always drive your mortal body forward.
A living machine
Gods true image
Sitting in the tub and this popped into my mind. Not religious, but I did enjoy writing it
gabrielle Feb 3
far loved utopia
my one and only haven
it is only you
i really don't know how to make a haiku i apologize !

(these untitled pieces are haiku's)
Belmin Jan 24
The day was great in the state,
Hurry to your job, dont be late

The Sun was shining
The roses were red
Walls of happiness

Do this, not that, stand up, lie flat
The orders were clear, for every guy
Everything was fine, then one asked why?

Piercing sound, thumping sound

And the Sun was shining, on hopeless faces
The roses were red, from blood
Walls of happiness, segregating classes and races

The state is your new God

And on the corpses of others, that asked why
There he lies, that’s the guy
No need to cry, no need to mourn

His bones build the foundations-
of a New Society Reborn
anotherken Jan 22
Call it the most vile evil thing,
Call it what you want, it's still waiting,
Waiting to be put up once again.

The red flag of worker utopia,
The change for a capitalist dystopia.
What we need: a permanent revolution.

Where the term of rich and poor are free;
Here, we share our rewards equally!
Is it not the most ideal thing?

Coal is shovelled all as one,
Laziness is easily frowned upon.
Where people unite and work hard.

No more rich; no more poor.
Where we live by shovel and lure,
Where we die equal and pure.

In practice, yes, it may fail.
But in due time, we'll all follow the trail
To a utopia, filled with red and yellow.

Call me a fool, I may be a dull tool.
But I stand by my dreams, we'll start anew.
A permanent revolution for us all.
I believe in a permanent revolution.
Thomas Mackie Jan 20
We stomp and we romp
with our filthy, bare feet
we jump and we bump
in the high summer heat.

Just skin, nails, and teeth
stop when we see blood
we are the ***** girls
rolling around in the mud.

We're *****, we drink beer
in the park in the dark
we yawp, twist, and shout
and we jeer and we bark.

We **** for the thrill
in the sweet with sweat season;
we say it's revenge,
but we don't need a reason.

Saturated plum flesh
bursting between jaws,
we are boundless, we are seeping,
we are love without laws.
Dear straight people,
It is a common believe that ****** are docile, non-threatening, non- violent, and weak. That being ***** is a choice to up your instagram followers, or to be the most woke, or to attract others. This is a poem to remind you that we are as natural as the sun, we are everywhere, and that we are not afraid to smash your brains in with a brick.
Elysia Jan 4
Columns drafted in pearl and eggshell,
Green vineyard draped over each one
Cautiously, meticulously decorated
By the dancing trees grown so tall above

Pure, clear water spurted out
Rivulets across Athena's strands of hair
Into her ivory *** she bears
The goddess smiles as the stream flows

Out the ***, it gushes through,
Towards a gentle pond
Becomes a lake
Then an ocean

Vast beyond imagination,
Where the goddess drinks
From her honey-gold chalice
Cupped neatly in her hands

Trickling down her chin
She gazes upon the reflection of a hundred souls
Dancing and prancing inside the water
Bumbling happiness and eternal bliss

A cascade of flowers bloom as the sun rises,
She waves her hand over the water
Glancing down, she whispers so dearly:
"Be patient, my child. All will come to you."

I pray this is the dream of the hundred souls
I pray this is my Utopia in White.
I dreamt of an Utopia once, and I decided to place my beautiful image into words. Enjoy :)
Laura Dec 2018
And for a moment we got lost.
Lost in dreams and lost in wishes,
Lost in space and lost in time.
We got lost in each other,
In the endless possibilities there are
And what we could be.

But we had to get back.
Leave utopia behind and
Start being realistic again.
Face the odds and realize
That it's nice to dream for a while
But the further you go
The harder it is to come back.
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