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Carter Ginter Feb 28
When did things change so much?
When did I get so encapsulated
Into the world of technology?
When did I stop listening
To myself and my own thoughts
And instead add another view
To some article or YouTube video
Just to reach some spoon-fed "opinion"?

When did we stop engaging
In life and with ourselves?
When did playing video games turn to
Watching other people play them online
Numbing our brains to the world
And "filling" our social needs digitally?
When did watching television turn into
Binge-watching an entire series in one sitting?

With this much constant stimulation
It's no wonder we're bored so easily
And that no one goes outside anymore
And that I don't feel alive anymore
Because one of the first things I do
When I get home from work or the gym
Is turn on the smart tv so it can warm up
Because the apps on it take time to load
And I already know that my free time
Will be spent in front of that screen

Lately I've been nervous about
Eventually moving in with new people
Primarily because I spend a lot of my time
Passively using the television
I was concerned with how we'd balance our usage
Instead of considering changing the way I spend my time

When did I start placing my use of technology
Above my own self-care?
When I spend hours watching YouTube
But still forget to take a shower sometimes
And I truly wonder if my recent urges
To leave the state to work on a farm for a month
Are more indicative of some deep desire
To unplug and reset my energy and priorities
Than my interest in agriculture or
Learning to live off of the land

When did I start to feel the need
To take such drastic measures
To change something so simple
Something I could choose to disengage with
At the simple touch of a button?
MJL Apr 1
Each generation’s majority makes choices that usher change
Lost pined for simple peace
Depression lived for human survival
Silence spoke for equality in a civil voice
Hippies fought war with flowers
Boomers drove for mad knowledge of self
Grunge nodded honesty from suburban garages
Y baptized Science as god
Mobs then anointed Orange Man as king
Down at the crossroads as means to their ends
For taxes, for borders, for babies, for guns, for Right
Trading truth, communal values and united dreams for their causes
How will we be remembered
As we watch this Heyday bloom
What will be this generation’s rallying cry
Will there be one
A culmination of past generation's trusted change
Lost, depressed, silent, free, self-aware, honest, doubting
Here now
Strong
Watching the flames
Will we quietly turn away
As our world burns
Or will we tap a new strength
To face the fire
Together
And bask in the wonder of our Heyday


© 2019 MJL
Generational strength. Come together. Unity. Love. Trump crossroads
Morgan Mercury Jan 2014
It's so quiet.
It's so strange.
I've never heard silence so loud before.
The drum beats loud and echoes out
leaving us alone in this emptiness.
Come on, love
don't leave me hanging from this cliff.
Don't leave me alone to die.

I know times are hard and you can't stand on your own,
but that doesn't mean you have to leave.
Don't run away from this pain.
Just come into my arms and stay.
At the end of the day
the rain will be blown over and all the flowers will be bloomed.
Even the toughest storms leave beauty for the eyes to love.

Don't get swallowed up in the shadows.
I'll be your light.
I'll guide you,
just follow my feet.
I'll lead you into me and hold you until your numb.

You're standing in the ocean
welcoming the salt water into your body.
Dry your eyes and swim to the shore
because I'll be waiting there.
Just please don't go.
Because if you leave I might just have to follow.
2014
Luz Hanaii Jul 2018
Changing our circle is helpful to advance.
Most avoid the naked truth, but dress it up.
They tell us what we like to hear.
"There, there..., you are so wonderful..."  
"Why, thank you!, so are you!"
We resort to ego stroking
We fib and stretch veracity
therefore we stagnate.

Sometimes life will push and kick us in the rear
specially if we're too comfortable,
that we may learn and grow.
David N Juboor May 2015
Last night,
I spent 45 minutes
In the bathroom
Because my doctor
Told me I needed more
Calcium in my diet.

He says calcium
Will make my bones strong,
And if I want to grow up
To be as big as my dad
Than a hefty glass of milk
Should do the trick.

I'm lactose intolerant.
But to this day I wonder,
Is calcium the culprit?

When an infant's bones
Are crushed by tanks,
And all that is left
Is the dust,
That you wipe away
With the palm of your
Blood-stained hand,
On an unmarked grave
Too old to remember,
But it keeps on
Coming back.

Back to a time
Where potential meant
The possibility of
Developmental potency.
Not the supposedly
High capacity for
Danger.

Like the flowers
In the spring,
Build their spine
From our breath;
Change is the
Life in our blood.
The minute an
Eighteen year old's
Parent's swallow the fire
Of an IED 6,032 miles away,
Believing their child fought for,

Change.

Verb.
To make or become different.
Verb.
To give or get foreign money in exchange for:
Verb.
To remove a ***** diaper from a baby
and replace it with a gun.

Where do you run to?
When sleep
is the only place
In a thousand miles
where you can find God.

When rest
is the only peace
you haven't felt
since they said
the war is
finally over.

When dreams
Are the memories
Of your children’s
Stardust

When you
Can’t adjust
To the lack of future
Freedom liberated
From materialism

When no
Dictionary
Has your definition
of Change.

Noun.
Something you find in your pocket.
Verb.
Something you find in yourself.

Change,
Is not something
You can touch;
But it's something
You should want
To feel.
For all the earth in the world,
For the varied chunks,
shapes and shades
of brown, keep an eye out!

There, somewhere in the dirt,
Next to the writhing worm,
Gasping at pockets of sunlight,
Green life ruminates, and
pushes, pushes up,
through the soil,
intrepid, unlikely.  
It abandons it's old husk house,
what little safety it knew,
and, daring to dream,
thrusts itself into existence,
and feels the day's cooling kiss,

a multi cellular masterpiece,
when yesterday, there was only
dirt.
DW Jan 2015
He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies,
It was the cruelty of man to man's fellow man,
That caused his young heart to break,
It filled him with sorrow to learn that tomorrow,
There was no difference or change he could make.

First there's the teen with no hopes or dreams,
Who holds the gun to his head,
If only we had heard that four letter word,
"Help" and he might not be dead,
But parents ignore a child's implore,
Move along there is nothing to see,
Then comes the day when he's taken away,
Pushed over the edge by the bully.

The starving young pup who lies all beaten up,
By the teenagers too cool for school,
They've come to learn that next it's their turn,
Drunk fathers are awfully cruel,
Or perhaps the poor homeless just hoping for kindness,
And ends up completely ignored,
We can grumble and shout from our comfy warm house,
That most likely, they're all just big frauds.

Then there comes war the thing all Governments adore,
They can line up their pockets with gold,
The war against terror? Or just the oil endeavour?
It doesn't matter soldiers do as they're told,
"An air strike for peace" is the press release,
As civilians are rained on by bombs,
Can they really believe that what's been achieved,
Is greater than the innocent lives that are gone?

He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies.
Jesse stillwater Sep 2018
The belated summer sky is alive
with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet

Beneath,.. the rain parched sod
lay sullied, cracked open
by an unsated thirstiness
awaiting the painted autumn days
and the cleansing rain's renewal

A lace-winged hatch rises skyward
— meandering  airborne —
drifting upwards like a burst of dust
dissipating in an invisible cloud
of eventide's silent breath

Darting shadows hover
above a seeker's curiosity
    just this side the  
softening sunset backdrop

A synthesis of fluid motion
  – darting kinesis –
    swift agile fliers
steal away over the thirsty pond;
their mesmerizing beauty enchants
as the dimming dusk falls silent —-
embellishing the unrelenting ending
   another summer's
 imminent curtain call;

reminding how inexorable-time
is only a contrived human notion,
a recurring extrapolation
  of passing  seasons

Heightening awareness:
how we too are only
passing through these
unholdable moments
   coming to know
    we cannot stop
   how life unfolds

The raindrops will quench
the pond's aching thirst
again one fall someday...

  — hereafter —
there will be another
beauty of dragonflies
some other eyes will see
preying on another burgeoning
gossamer-winged hatch

          and
another beckoning autumn
when the dragonflies hover
below the gazing totems
     in the treetops


Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
Notes: Dragonflies can fly at 100 body-lengths per second, and three lengths per second backwards.[20] Wiki   Fossils of very large dragonfly ancestors in the Protodonata are found from 325 million years ago (Mya) in Upper Carboniferous rocks; these had wingspans up to about 750 mm (30 in). There are about 3000 extant species.

Unholdable moments touched out here adrift —

Thanks for reading !
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
The midnight sun is heading north

These bags are packed with dreams
and the memories of who I’ve been;
To scatter forth like gathered seeds
on fallow hope,
strewn at the mercy of the winds

The genesis of spring unravels
the knotted darkness
Another winter’s aftermath
hidden back on the back shelf
The distance between back then
and now,  is widening
each  Dawn  to  Dusk

A  gust  of  sunlight
plashes ripples
across the still waters
of  depthless  peace

and,
my hands are no longer tied
behind  my  back
by winter's grasp

Seasons  oft  do  change
perennial  as  the  tides

But I don’t want to see
another ocean runaway;
I don’t want to know how
another fleeting moment
ends


Jesse Stillwater
7th  April  2018
Shiny Sep 2018
My world had turned small for some time. For a while, I had a great deal of things that scared me. It was at that time that I and Paul met and become close buddies. I was afraid of dreaming and trusting. I was afraid of giving more and ending up in an inescapable, disheartening web of *******. I was afraid of commitments. He had the same fears. Through the tales that brought about these fears we connected, though I would have done anything for the people I loved even back then. I was blind and overlooking, cuddling with my own insecurities. Things have changed a great deal as I have got on to my next phase of life. Slowly my fears are leaving me. I'm not afraid to give people my all. I'm not scared to love. I'm dreaming with open eyes with only possibilities in mind and a belief in myself of getting  all that  i want. I stand strong for people I love and have comforting words for others too. Upon meeting him after such great changes in my life, I couldn't help noticing how small his mind and heart are for even the people closest to him. I can't close my eyes and overlook now. I don't like him anymore. I might seem like a ***** but I hardly care.
the gentle lapping of salty waves, break onto the shore,

The wave of change is coming fast-
into the tide contentment's cast
it's the only way to sail from past
to brightest futures; A risen mast...

and a seagull, somewhere, sings in F minor.

no human can ignore:
no matter race, religion, class,
that the waves propel us, or
drowns us beneath their mass.

The wave of change's tolling tide
has come again for us, we tried
to keep using whatever it is
that we contrived,
surfing  change's wave,
  we to ride.
free verse
Jesse stillwater Nov 2018
The wind roars —
then stills to listen
to the spoken grandeur
from the soul of the
angry autumn sky
Its quickly moving grandeur
moving  way beyond
a trailing moment's wake

   Change often goes voiceless —
the autumn wind
needs not consent
to bare the trees;
disguising all symmetry
of yesterdays fleeting glance

Overarching that which
can no longer be
   as it once was —
A  bitter cold gust preys
on this aging bark
stirring to the roots
of my soul

Will true nature’s  
powerful essence
ever reshape the scars
these wind-whipped
human feather's
mask ? 

   The wind roars —
   then stills to listen ,...

and I wonder why
I can’t be the change
I see

Stillwater in the wind


Jesse Stillwater ... November 2nd, 2018
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