"acclimatised" poems - Hello Poetry

Inception Transcribed (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ==Inception Transcribed == by SassyJ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ (Copy the link below to your browser) Inception and intersection of human life are diverse. We are ushered as a blank canvas to the shores of life. Socialised with values, beliefs and cultures. Our acclimatised acculturation. Submerged in the swampy lowlands each sunk and wandering through and through. This morning I woke and left my house...... looked up to the horizons of nature. And there it was.... a revolving camera smiling at each stride I take... following me and taunting me. Unreserved in institutions, submerged in the ever decaying social structures. Why do we do what we do everyday? Is it part of the human processes and functions? To exist and be absolutely absent but present. I fret, then I smile. Trying to join the puzzles in the mazes. Ever questioning if I am here to learn or to be polluted by bureaucracy. Lets call for an assembly, announce that the town is dead. Yet, its people are gasping, breathing to fill their lives with a new paradigm. Look at me all cyanosed , the blueness of the dying veins... sunk in the redistribution and social panic. Re-engaged in the demoralised democracy. Look at me asking.... What is the meaning of life?

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Mar 5, 2016

Mar 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC

SassyJ

Inception Transcribed (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)

Inception Transcribed (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ==Inception Transcribed == by SassyJ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ (Copy the link below to your browser) Inception and intersection of human life are diverse. We are ushered as a blank canvas to the shores of life. Socialised with values, beliefs and cultures. Our acclimatised acculturation. Submerged in the swampy lowlands each sunk and wandering through and through. This morning I woke and left my house...... looked up to the horizons of nature. And there it was.... a revolving camera smiling at each stride I take... following me and taunting me. Unreserved in institutions, submerged in the ever decaying social structures. Why do we do what we do everyday? Is it part of the human processes and functions? To exist and be absolutely absent but present. I fret, then I smile. Trying to join the puzzles in the mazes. Ever questioning if I am here to learn or to be polluted by bureaucracy. Lets call for an assembly, announce that the town is dead. Yet, its people are gasping, breathing to fill their lives with a new paradigm. Look at me all cyanosed , the blueness of the dying veins... sunk in the redistribution and social panic. Re-engaged in the demoralised democracy. Look at me asking.... What is the meaning of life?

14

summer reigns here and for us fifteen degrees is a heat wave acclimatised as we are so far north. Its so gently quiet after the long stormy dark months really a timeless place filled with light almost twenty four seven where days are weeks and weeks months and life strolls hand in hand, a tapestry of love.

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May 30, 2016

May 30, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC

nivek

a tapestry of love

summer reigns here and for us fifteen degrees is a heat wave acclimatised as we are so far north. Its so gently quiet after the long stormy dark months really a timeless place filled with light almost twenty four seven where days are weeks and weeks months and life strolls hand in hand, a tapestry of love.

8

filled with chemicals and they like to call it clinical trials. Peeled away they make me kneel to pray to some lesser god as if I failed some test and where's the greater good? I become (eventually) acclimatised to this brutality, de-sensitised and all morality flees. Who is culpable? This photograph, a memory makes me laugh or cry, but a memory indeed indexed will feed my thoughts.

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May 30, 2016

May 30, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

The white room

filled with chemicals and they like to call it clinical trials. Peeled away they make me kneel to pray to some lesser god as if I failed some test and where's the greater good? I become (eventually) acclimatised to this brutality, de-sensitised and all morality flees. Who is culpable? This photograph, a memory makes me laugh or cry, but a memory indeed indexed will feed my thoughts.

25

Skinny dark and handsome, Mucky-bright and troublesome, Giddy, and full of fun, Dusty foot, Desert child Half naked, running wild. Then, came the move Tame the lion, city life Schooling, for a better life. Then horror, with a volley and crackle And thunder, Tribal feud, tearing hearts asunder Time to flee Back of a Hilux jumping borders, Refugees, A childhood memory Seen as mean by me From foot to camel to truck to plane Safety has been ascertained Acclimatised and mingled into This here foreign place. Years have passed, Life has changed, Wounds have healed, and I’m no longer mean, I am me.

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Jul 5, 2018

Jul 5, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC

Nomad81

I am

Skinny dark and handsome, Mucky-bright and troublesome, Giddy, and full of fun, Dusty foot, Desert child Half naked, running wild. Then, came the move Tame the lion, city life Schooling, for a better life. Then horror, with a volley and crackle And thunder, Tribal feud, tearing hearts asunder Time to flee Back of a Hilux jumping borders, Refugees, A childhood memory Seen as mean by me From foot to camel to truck to plane Safety has been ascertained Acclimatised and mingled into This here foreign place. Years have passed, Life has changed, Wounds have healed, and I’m no longer mean, I am me.

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