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Mosaic May 2015
Most trivial 20 moments
https://youtu.be/MmdyqeM_FLM
A very short video of my very short poem, Once there was Nothing
Cat Fiske May 2015
Everyone has those days,
Where they just can seem to pay attention,
Where all they want to do is look out the window.
For me, Its everyday,

Everyday since I could remember misspelling my name at the top of my paper,
That went on till I was in third grade,
Its funny how I can write it so simply now,
And how the spelling of my name,
Used to be the least of my worries.

I remember when I used to jump around all the time,
Not ever being able to calm down,
Now I have that restless leg syndrome,
Whenever I’m called on by a teacher,
My anxiety kicks in,
But I still have to sit there uncomfortably,
And answer their question,

Honestly, its not fair,
When people think its all an act,
I wish they would see how I struggled,
When I’m unable to ask for things I really need,
Because I’d rather take a zero then let someone make me feel,
Less then,

More than I already do,
When I am the awkward one,
with my “friends” in the conversations,
Not being socially acceptable,
Because sometimes I talk when I shouldn’t,
Or don’t always get everything,

But when teachers don’t even want to try,
And understand you,
And maybe help you when they're supposed to,

Why do they expect me to keep trying?
When I’d get the same results,
if I just gave up.

This is what happens when you have an unseen disability,
Because no one believes it's a really thing,
So everyone gives up,

Everyone thinks kids use it as an excuse to be lazy,
But anyone with it,
Know how hard it takes to work for something,
And then watch it mean nothing.
Link to video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0xqhZo1Xvw

this poem is the original narration for the video I made, I ended up not using the entire voice over, but it was in mind the entire time during editing and filming. it was written after I made a storyboard. I entered this in a film contest, it didn't get selected like one of my other ones. this is my favorite film though.
Scarlet Niamh Mar 2015
You ask me to believe in you,
To trust you,
To love you,
But how can I do those things
When you are a mere chat window
On my laptop,
And the only way I can see you
Is through a small video clip
On a blurred phone screen?

You and your empty words.
Sometimes I wish
You would just leave me alone
So I can rejoin reality.
Jodie LindaMae Nov 2014
What was the point
In idolizing and utilizing my resources
Without truly taking or replacing
Anything within my being?
With what anomaly's prejudice
Did you plan to take me down?
It's like you're Little Mac
And I'm Glass Joe,
Throwing punches even though
They don't connect.
You overpower me in so many ways
But back away before credit is due.

I would call you humble,
But in the end I'm still a ****;
A slit in a gown clean up to the hip...
And you're a dancer,
A ******* epiphany
Sweeping across the room.
Dylan G Nov 2014
Pushing a key oh how it brings me glee;
Content even happy in simple existence;
Many may not want to be just like me,
For a dry dreary job takes a work of persistence,
But each button I press is a step to success.

Merely a man without a choice,
Only a puppet with no voice

As I wait for direction with keen apprehension;
I stare at the screen first perplexed then distraught;
I see no coworkers it fills me with tension;
What was that? Was it just a thought?
A voice in my head, now it fills me with dread.

He must choose to make a choice,
To give his mouth a voice

“Stanley,” says he, “walked out his office”;
‘Stanley’ is that honestly my own name?
This voice I don’t trust, I will be very cautious;
I shut my closed door so all will stay the same;
The voice has not parted, I’m back where I started;
How?

The end is never the end is never the end

“Stanley,” says he, “walked out his office”;
Shall I play with him in his own little game?
My other decision was not quite that flawless;
I walk outside and am filled with no shame;
“Rejoice, you’ve made the one right choice”.

Now he’s a man in a world of choice,
The one employee that has a voice

I come to two doors and feel a great sensation;
“Walk through the door that's to your left”
What should I think of his clear calm narration?
I walk to the left, trying to be quite deft;
“You must not try to be uncouth, my words they simply speak the truth”.

Does he really have a choice?
Are the words his own real voice?

The constant dictation is no consolation;
I am led into a secret new door;
What I now see is a mind control station
But how do I know what is real anymore?
Does this place control me, or the voice within me?

This is the chance to make a choice,
His opportunity to put forth a voice

"Will you close down the station boy?
"Or put its full force into motion?
What choice do I have but to follow the story?
'Mind control', I'm dismayed at the notion;
I think I heard the voice inside me just scoff,
I turn the station off.

Only a character in a fixed plot line,
He does not see a contrasting sign

Now I am free but it brings me no glee;
Maybe I should have put up some resistance;
Merely existing means nothing to me;
I must now question my unclear subsistence;
The voice has not parted, I'm back where I started.

A man with a choice,
He has a voice
A narrative poem I wrote for school based off the game, "The Stanley Parable".
Sam Knaus Oct 2014
The dream last night had seemed so real… But it was just a dream, right? Those shadows, the messages on the mirror, the walls, all the groaning and the shuffling of feet… That was all just a dream, right?
     This is all just a dream, right?
     Fairly ridiculous question to be asking yourself as you’re being chased through the halls by this… this, this thing. Whatever this is. Its neck is limp, head resting on its shoulder. Its grin is huge, its face coated in blood.
     Have you ever heard the children’s rhyme about the Crooked Man?
There was a crooked man,
Who walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence
Upon a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat,
Which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together,
In a little crooked house.

     This… thing, you’re being chased by, that you’re fighting off with a fruit knife, that you’re setting on fire and pushing into holes and still won’t die…
    This is the Crooked Man.
     I wonder if this is all the Crooked Man knew?
     His crooked house, his crooked relationships, his crooked… crooked body…
     His body’s only crooked because of the rope, though.
     Maybe he couldn’t handle being crooked anymore? All he knew was a crooked life, all he owned were crooked things.
     I wonder why he’s chasing you.
     It could be to drag you down, to slaughter you, to make you feel his pain… More than you already have… To make you end up like him.
     Your pasts are so similar…
     Or maybe it’s to warn you. To say, “Don’t end up like me.” To make sure that you don’t die the way he died. The way he staggers, his limp neck, head hanging loosely, his unrealistically large grin…
     Why did he make you put that gun to your head, then? Why is he trying to drag you down?
That’s a problem for you to figure out on your own. But you’d better hurry.
     By the way, I noticed earlier… Your neck is a little crooked.

(This one was based off the video game, The Crooked Man. Yaay, video games.)
Victoria Mar 2014

I checked the video page one day to see if you were on drugs
All I saw were two common folk nothing more than thugs

The love is lost;it's over now
Not entertained or amused

I'm over our entanglement
Unaffected and bemused

How to start my life again?
It's time to begin living

**** 12 steps of recovery
What was done I'm not forgiving

I'm learning how to laugh at me
And simply how to be

Progress not perfection
A lifelong revelry

The time has come to say goodbye to a past misunderstood

It's time  to make amends with me
Not a  lost "boy" from the hood

Just a side note for clarification...the video page refers to 'youtube.'..as 'he' is currently posting music videos of himself and it has become evident that he is back on drugs
Noah A Baker Oct 2014
Everyone knew, including him,
that if you sat too close to the TV, your eyes would die.
But nobody knew, but him,
that if you sit too far away, you miss out on the experience.
It's why he plays!
very very very short especially for me but yeah. I felt like the picture had been taken.
svdgrl Aug 2014
I miss the days
when the only way my heart
was broken,
was upon achieving an ending
to an RPG
I decided to leisurely beat
in a year.
That empty feeling afterwards,
used to be the only hole
that I dug myself
until I left the protection
of my bedroom,
and realized we are all games
Life loved to beat
over and over again.
-marcesibleghost Aug 2014
Guys, this is a video I made for the poem "Some People."
It's a spoken word with background music, hope you like it :)
I know this is a post, and not a poem..
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