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sara Aug 2018
I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.
a poem about the addictive nature of social media
Carter Ginter Sep 2014
Silence surrounds                                                        ­    The sun still shines
but loneliness cannot exist                                               on this perfect day
Not in a place                                                            ­            except, too often,
where time never quits.                                                       no children play.
It's unfortunate                                                      ­                 The empty park
that bit by decaying bit                                                    beyond these walls
our generations keep                                                             cries in memory
losing grip.                                                            ­             of laughs and falls.
It's a terrifying thought that                                                             ­ But wait,
when asked "what time is it?"                      does hope approach at dawn?
it'll seem foreign and insane                               He pauses to finish a text..
to glance at my wrist.                                                    And then he is gone.
The goal of the assignment was to write two sections about two different things and tie them together creatively in the title.
Marla Feb 15
Tempest-tossed and out of bounds,
My youthful vigor marches on.
Exiled thrice on different scales:
First from my homeland,
Then the place I called home,
And now,
What used to be our world.
Why?

Because I'm different.
Not radically so, but just enough
To have me pushed away.
It seems the fascists aren't dead
After all;
They just hide in the people
You love until they come out for-

Forget it;
Thoughts like those don't help.
Me and you have to think
Of ourselves.
Day after day,
We're led on and told we're wrong.
Truth is,
We are the emboldened ones;
Gallant and strong-
The might of light within us all.

So stand tall, my humble friends,
Our call to arms is but a prayer
Cast down to us
For the sobriety of our good nature.

Love is the answer;
For if you love all
As if all loved you,
You'll eventually find that it does.
sara May 2014
You cover yourself in a thousand tattoos
and then claim you're afraid of commitment
but they're there to stay, they're not going away
and you see the word 'love' as no different

once it's been said there's no taking it back
so you must be completely certain
that you'll feel the same way, the day after today
when you can't hide behind bedroom curtains

you ask to go slow
and say you'll let her know
when you're ready to for this to progress
you don't want any labels
just to someone to cradle
as you both quickly begin to undress

drinking and smoking to take off the edge
moaning and groaning whilst lost in the bed
your breathing is heavy, your back is all scratched
this is the life of *"no strings attached"
Jordan Hudson Dec 2018
Generation, presentation
Complaints and restraints then
Good days and bad days when
They all see what I can be in
The future and tomorrow I
Will be a true success and why
Do you all doubt me while I rhyme
I can say I will write
Until the day God will decide
When and where and how I will die
The clouds, the sky, the sun's light
Will shine upon us all right now
We will be guided and showed how
To go and rise and be wise you
And I will learn the ways these days
The proper sayings and actions we
Are gazing into space you see
Lights, shadows, crafts above
Above us all, above us tall
Above this planet, stars so small
Bright stars afar
Visible from cars
From the cities and streets below
From fields, mountains, valleys so low
On the highway, the trails, the air
Oceans, roads, coasters at fairs
Horseback, camel back, animals
Swine to divine horses and bulls
Will the people dare to stare and
Glare at the shares and the mayor
Government, tax, and presidents
Hair, and the gold from the sand dunes
And the bad old Floridan prunes
Oil, gas, and the seas water
Friends and our only one father
This world is ours not theirs so
They cannot breach our Earth you know
Until the day God will decide
When and where and how I will die
When will I die?
They will reach us all someday now
Anyway now anytime now
They will destroy or let us live
If they reach and ****, no one gives
Technology and the main plan
Is to **** off slowly and ban
All we have to protect us is
Our bare hands and our minds and this
Collection of leftovers and
The  old medicines and towers
The sky and its light, no powers
God protect us all through these sour
Bad times we are going to face
No we will not embrace or trace
The source or will we, some will not
We all should, that's our only shot
To make it out alive
Dead or alive
Let this song help you to survive
The clouds and the sky
God will let you die
You will too survive
The clouds and the sky
God will save us all
You will also fall
The clouds in the sky
The clouds and the sky
The clouds and the sky
Our world, our Earth
Our death, our birth
The clouds and the sky
The clouds and the sky
Our world, our Earth
Our death, our birth
Don't say I didn't warn you
There is a cloud
In the sky
I'm trying to get better
BellonasBride May 2016
They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction

They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody

They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you

They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair

They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.


Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone.

School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities  

But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.

You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree

As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth

As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge

And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it

And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.

Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious

Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.

Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.

**And that is my definition of school
Keith W Fletcher Apr 2018
All along that grey draped zig-zagging shoreline
The men sat or stood in resolute silence
Each trying to reach back into minds
Scrambled like eggs by the fear of impending violence

Soon the hard faced men will open the gates
As the race will start as hearts will change pace
Then by push and twist they load like cattle
Into great grey hulking hearse's barely floating
Plunging through grey roiling seas toward thunder
Echoing across the channel quotation marks of the battle

That rages ,engages not turning ÷ripping out pages of history
When the water turns red punctuated by the floating dead....
........The question marks and periods
Exclamation marks in the book thats still being written ...
        ......to what end?
That is what makes any plot a vagrant thought
With a premise being an unresolved mystery
Such are .....
The vagaries of the ever repeating chapters of human history!
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
MarvelMe Oct 2018
Dad
I looked up to you
I wish I were you

You and I were the same
Even though people told me you were insane

I didn't care what anyone said
Because when I needed you
You always came to my aid

But then you weren't there for me
When I needed you the most
It felt like no one cared for me
I was so lonely

I used to hate you
I'm glad I forgave you

All the thoughts of fantasy
I dreamed us as a family
Ended up being a sad tragedy

I won't make the same mistake
I'll be there for every birthday cake
From the time they wake
To the time we go to the zoo and see a king snake
In fact well even make Swiss steak
Or cupcakes
Or pound cake
We'll play with snow flakes
We'll go see great lakes
I'll be there for heartbreaks

I'll give them the love I never had
I've forgiven you already and I'm not mad
But at the end of the day I'm still glad
You were my Dad
10/9/2018
Dad's are important
n-khrennikov Mar 23
When I was young,
I learned how to write poetry.
When I was old,
I am a book
~ NK

"A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else poor."
Alexander Smith
ollie Dec 2017
I watched this man in an assembly a few days ago
I pity this man because he's from this group called Teen Truth
But it's Teen Lies because they've got the reason kids say their goodbyes all wrong
The man said that statistics were inaccurate: 99% of kids have been bullied or are bullies
So you think he'd understand most of those kids have adapted to this society
I wish this guy could see he's wrong and he's spreading lies like a Teen Idle
Because everyone knows the song goes "feeling super super super suicidal"
And for most of us, it ain't severe so it's crystal clear it's because of the men who make assumptions about us muffins tryna turn us soft, softer than we already are, so they leave us in the oven for 7 minutes instead of 9
The truth is it isn't because of our iPhones
We're not wanting to die just because it's cool
But really I'll tell you a secret:
My friend shouldn't have to ask if it was on purpose or on accident when I said I cut myself
I shouldn't have to clarify or reassure him it was because of my clumsiness and not my courage
But here we are, your invincible teenagers, falling falling falling down until we're going going going gone
It is because we know that the economy is ******* and we'll never be able to do what we want to do
It's because when I got bullied, I sure as hell was not going to **** myself because of it
I was going to **** myself because I had dreams where I retaliated
I was going to **** myself because I was taking down those people, those people I'd be allied with and probably forget about years later
I was going to **** myself because everyone else was, for the reasons they were
And even for petty reasons like, "If I die today, I never have to feel sick ever again."
And because I felt like **** when I couldn't get out of bed
And maybe because there's people out there like my dad who probably want to but would never tell me
And because my mom threatened to sell me when I was younger
And now I'm done with her because I only have to live for another five years before I find myself on the streets
Covered in cuts I did not make on purpose
Maybe I'd be yelling poetry on the street corner or maybe I'll have that apartment in New York
Maybe I'll be in love with someone
Maybe I never will be and maybe someday, I will see everything the pizza delivery man sees, like I do every single day with every single person, and I will tell him "Thinking about her will only make it worse."
And then I will give him a tip, take the pizza, and be on my way never to think of him again
And maybe he'll never know when he'll forget me because I'm the reason it got better
Because that pizza man was my age I remembered how it felt to not get out of bed and us kids, we have to stick together
That's all we're ever going to be, yeah, sickly kids remembering math tests and other countries threatening to destroy our own
A man in charge with orange skin, bad hair, a temper and a refusal to learn the word consent in front of women
So if I live that long I sure as hell hope a pizza man is waiting because I'm gonna tell him that if it's what he needs to hear
I guess I'll always be here, in a room without much light, and god I gotta tell you I'll keep writing poetry, unfortunately
Because you don't want to read it but you have to
I know I'm different but in the ways we feel I am exactly the same
And because of this half-hearted explanation, I assure you
I didn't cut myself on purpose
Not quite yet
“Get back to wherever you were, because it gets better, and we're all broken, and **** you've got your own **** to do, I assure you, the world really is just waiting for you to shine.”
**** so this is later but this poem actually resulted in a two hour meeting with my school who FOUND IT. they don’t seem to understand creative liberty, but **** them, honestly. just because i said i doesn’t mean it specifically happened to me - it means i’m capable of empathy and it’s happened to multiple teens. no i’m not suicidal anymore. yes i used to be. and that’s why you need to pay more attention - if i were going to **** myself it would’ve happened before i started writing poetry.
Callie Richter Oct 2017
I wish you understood as much as you think you do
Maybe then I wouldn't break down quite as much
You know what happened, the baseline of my insanity
But I want you to know how I feel towards the boy who dropped me, my ex-best friend, and the one I'm in love with
I want you to understand
everything that's going on in my head
The way it spins when I remember the details of last weekend
The way it pounds when I see them together
The way it screams when the same thing happens to me over and over again
But how could you understand
If I'm being honest, I don't even understand myself
I don't know how to prevent my sob fests
I'm not sure why I let it all get to me
But I do
It eats me from the inside out and I know I can't be the only one
So why do I feel so alone?
Throw a punch,
Shove me around,
Cut me deep.
Physical pain is better than emotional
You can't fix what's throwing your body off guard with a **** band-aid
It'd be easier to fix a bullet wound with one
This generation is so messed up
Everyone's hurting and nobody's willing to help
It takes a tv show for people to realize that there are others hurting more than you
And everyone's first reaction is to be mean, to tear you apart
I just can't stand it anymore
Don't tell me it'll be different
That only time will tell
I've heard it a million times and it's all a big lie
The same thing will happen over and over and over again
Like a broken record, if you even know what that is anymore
She's always going to bully me
And the fears always going to be with me
He's always going to treat me like I'm nothing
And I'm always going to let him
She's always going to stab me in the back
And I'm always going to pretend like I don't notice
And ten years from now I'll look back and realize that I was right
The same thing happened again and again just with different faces
I miss her
I need him
I crave you
I just want unconditional love and a decent nights sleep
Is that really too much to ask?
September Roses May 2018
Once we were on fire
Young    rebeliouse   free
We stormed the castles and took to the skies we flew we dreamed
We were ablaze our light setting raging screaming fire to the world around us
When our thoughts could not sit in silence any longer
When the kids were engulfed by a wave of fury of the injustice done by this world before we were even here
We screamed and demanded
OUR VOICES WOULD BE HEARD
But now it rains
Now the cold heavy water blankets the restless
The fire has been drenched in worry and stress
The brutal downpour has distracted all with false life or death
The blaze once 100 feet high now nothing but a charred soul

And all the ones put out by the rain
to tired to fight again,
pray on the generation next
That their fire is enough to best the storm
Matt Shaw Oct 2016
decorative flora thrown to the sacrificial pit
pity shivers on the fringes of my identity like springy roots
out from the warmth and wet
of potting soil

not brave, just lucky
not impressive, still growing
just let me broaden my garden

in league with lofty new age decision rooms
to air strikes and precarious ties, not hiding in the sky!
shivering to rotten hospitaled justice
up all the way through that cold toll of some bell of betrayal.

planted like a whisper
seen at stops at the park and weddings
the cute moments of acceptance we have
and things i could not and would never want to take from you

the very fact of you seems to poke a question into the sky
Tara Nov 2018
A generation filled with hate,
fueled by our elders,
every decision lies in their hands.
The perpetrators of our demise,
is not ourselves.
It’s the world that’s been created for us,
what a surprise.

A generation filled with pain,
depressions an epidemic
that others don’t always understand.
A world created for competition not salvation,
or finding inner peace.

A generation filled with love,
society has taught us to suppress.
Who's the best? Who's the most powerful?
Redefining love to something people can barely express,
swimming in an ocean of fear;
fear of rejection,
fear of failure,
fear of ourselves.

A generation filled with so much,
That was always told:
"it’s not enough".
CK Baker Dec 2017
sages and brethren
gather, and share
and slowly souls
are bared
their tempered voices
and quiet eyes
reserved of judgment
with passing smiles

moments blend
in current trends
opinions wide
and reflections deep
the concepts
and irregularities
once murky
now clear

they prioritize
and familiarize
that staunch resolution
of generation net
will remunerate
and illuminate
through the checkpoints
and formal reviews
through the purple curtains
and open stage
nothing tainted
or bitter
left for taste

cause its they
who’ll plant the seeds
the captains of commerce
healers and jugglers
the coaches and councilors
negotiators and compromisers
the kings and queens
hustlers and hellcats
(who've all found their way!)
let us tip our hats
and salute them
Logan Robertson Aug 2018
Twas the night before
Hawaii islands on the radar
A monster opened the door
It shoulders a storied scar

Of the last time, it hit its mark
Rearing its **** head, ahead of pace
As the eye looms '82 in the dark
Wrinkles on this  eve sit sadly in boldface

Kauai sat once in unnatured infamy
It sunny shores hit once by the beast
Clouds of villains played in that symphony
With the next generation looking to feast

As the residence brace for the worst
Of the monster stepping on its paradise
With category four winds and cloudburst
The hope is that the monster plays nice

With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath
Hawaii can pray rays of light in the coming days
Willing the monster to take a different path

Logan Robertson

8/23/2018
This honor catches me by surprise, so much that I can't wait for the next dawn, sunrise, and all the days that follow. Thank you. Thank you for all the well wishes and support. It means looking at the sunrise, a new dawn, with newfound exuberance and eagerness.

To my friends and relatives on Oahu, I pray. Update-monster played nice. Outstanding was its piano play. Storm went from a 5,4,3,2,1 ... miss. With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath. Thank you.
Hannah Sep 2018
Don’t trust anything around you.
Everything is a lie.
Can’t even trust my own thoughts or your thoughts or what you say but I’ll consider it all.
We’re a consideration generation with no truth.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
Being silent
Is a new trend

What if?
I am an old soul
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Innate Nature
Familial the ties siblings we are
Brought up with love care discipline and protection
Values inculcated deep
Respect and love we all each other
Hold it strong in the heart
Hurt we can never bring to each other
Stand together in testing times forever
Raising high the baton of love today
Passing it on to the generation next
To relay it in the timeless tomorrow
Raksha Bandhan - the festival of the bond of love and protection, shared by brothers and sisters .
The sister ties a sacred thread / amulet on the brother’s wrist , and prays for the well being and protection of her brother.
The brother promises the same and showers the sister with gifts .

https://youtu.be/oapzWU3ttqg

Dear all , owing to the festive occasion I have not been able to read much here , should do so in a couple of days , stay blessed all of you !

Thank you  all, for the love and support for this poem( 3rd May 2019), this was made the daily!

Will soon respond to all your lovely comments, thanks and love to all ♥️
Angela Liyanto Sep 2018
I would imagine my shoes full of broken wineglass
     and I would bicker, shoot, hum, wring
     carefully take them all out,
     with my godcrazed sweaty hands
I would see hallucinatory men in love, all destroyed with jarring
     scars on their arms because of the Great War,
     wrestle each other to steaks in the dead beach
     moaning with their twenty year old cigars
     still in their tortured mouths
I would see children playing at Dawn,
     They never grow older, always the age of eight
     They all played games with me, especially
     In those Westfield overblown supermarkets
I would dream of a pure Strawberry Field's kingdom,
     With John Lennon’s flannel shirts and a picture
     of some artist’s wife wanting to jump off the Brooklyn bridge
     Thinking I’m related to Napoleon
     who I forgotten about, ever since we left Chinatown that day.

So I called the twenty four hour hotline, where all the suicidal people call in the middle of the night,
      groaning in my bathtub, thinking of my visions,
      knowing one thing, I cried,
      “ I don’t want to turn into a cockroach like Gregor did!”
Instead I turned into a Shakespearean agony girl in two days,
     and wrote dramas in my room at midnight
     hissing of the mistreatment of slaves back in 1821.

After, I wept of the romances of the guiltless terraces in the tiny
     exhaustible corners of the street, in the abandoned libraries,
     and went back to school half-insane filled with gibberish stanzas
     and academics that sounded like more gibberish.

Then, I was I crowned with pinnacle ‘Madness of Thou Brain and Sick Oblivion, with auditory hallucinations’

I gave my one synapse yell to my only friend in town, and they all
     sent me to some institution where I felt more belonging than I
     did in eight years.

I met a girl who was planning to read To **** A Mockingbird in an hour,

I met a boy from Juvie who smoked too much and took too many pills

I met a boy who was just as sick as me, we played Twister in the
     dark until the nurses caught us holding hands,
     I never saw him again after that.

I met a girl who completed her suicide two days before her
     discharge.

Can you see it yet? In the tiny inexhaustible corners of the streets?
     In the abandoned libraries?

In little time, my generation will beat their visions to the streets,
     their innovation will rise to daring freshness.
A poem that reflects the society of modern times, a hallucinogenic mess of questions, but still somehow surviving and standing firm in its ideas.
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