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"modernization" poems
A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, my love is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June and my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune. And you're so fair, my lovely lass, and so deep in love am I, that I will love you still, my dear, till all the seas run dry. Till all the seas run dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love you still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run.   And fare you well, my only love! And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand miles! Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, red, rose, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, melody, tune, seas, dry, rocks, melt, sun, ten thousand miles Original Scots Dialect Poem: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns O my Luve is like a red, red rose    That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody    That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,    So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear,    Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,    And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear,    While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve!    And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve,    Though it were ten thousand mile. Hugh MacDiarmid wrote "The Watergaw" in a Scots dialect. I have translated the poem into modern English to make it easier to read and understand. A watergaw is a fragmentary rainbow. The Watergaw by Hugh MacDiarmid loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season I saw the uncanniest thing— a watergaw with its wavering light shining beyond the wild downpour of rain ... and I thought of the last wild look that you gave when you knew you were destined for the grave. There was no light in the skylark's nest that night—no—nor any in mine; but now often I've thought of that foolish light and of these more foolish hearts of men ... and I think that maybe at last I ken what your look meant then. Keywords/Tags: Scotland, Scot, Scottish, Scots dialect, night, nightfall, rain, grave, death, death of a friend, light, lights, watergaw, heart, heartache, broken heart, heart song
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Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 11:10 PM UTC
Robert Burns "A Red, Red Rose" translation
A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Oh, my love is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June and my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune. And you're so fair, my lovely lass, and so deep in love am I, that I will love you still, my dear, till all the seas run dry. Till all the seas run dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love you still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run.   And fare you well, my only love! And fare you well, awhile! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand miles! Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, red, rose, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, melody, tune, seas, dry, rocks, melt, sun, ten thousand miles Original Scots Dialect Poem: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns O my Luve is like a red, red rose    That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody    That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,    So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear,    Till a’ the seas gang dry. Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,    And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; I will love thee still, my dear,    While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve!    And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve,    Though it were ten thousand mile. Hugh MacDiarmid wrote "The Watergaw" in a Scots dialect. I have translated the poem into modern English to make it easier to read and understand. A watergaw is a fragmentary rainbow. The Watergaw by Hugh MacDiarmid loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch One wet forenight in the sheep-shearing season I saw the uncanniest thing— a watergaw with its wavering light shining beyond the wild downpour of rain ... and I thought of the last wild look that you gave when you knew you were destined for the grave. There was no light in the skylark's nest that night—no—nor any in mine; but now often I've thought of that foolish light and of these more foolish hearts of men ... and I think that maybe at last I ken what your look meant then. Keywords/Tags: Scotland, Scot, Scottish, Scots dialect, night, nightfall, rain, grave, death, death of a friend, light, lights, watergaw, heart, heartache, broken heart, heart song
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56
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Indigenous (Abducted Consciousness)
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
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37
I am the product of lost civilization; hanging in between circles  of  modernization ; who tells Whether its rising or setting of sun  or globalization The era of bindis Or glamorization Of going to Pubs or piligrimization Of  mothers going to kitty parties   and  of socialization Of works of Picasso's     Or hussainization Of  belief of gods Or Sensationalization Of act of democracy Or  just rationalization Of laws of science Or limitization Of acts of defiance Or patronization Of loss of love                         Or dehumanization Of views of people Or individualization
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Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
Product
Kumasi, the Tree City, The Kingdom City with a divine eagle Standing bravely on a mighty stick, The unquestionable love that embraces The soul of the arch enemy, The tradition that swallows The ancient courage and modern pride, Kumasi, the Tree City, The mighty city that lies under The flying wings of the Beautiful Okumanin tree, The golden city of the Western Sudan Planted by the arm of the Almighty, You are truly the dwelling Abode of unity and majesty, Kumasi, the Tree City, The echoes of your ancestral spirits Do not sleep nor slumber You that provides a comfortable Seat for the grandson of The almighty Krobea Asante Kotoko, The modern pride of the great Ancient mother of Yaa Asantewaa, Kumasi, the Tree City, The great son of the vulture, Otomfuo Osei Tutu, may not Appreciate your present State of modernization, For you have surrounded T he Golden Stool with Carelessness and filth, Your crime rate has swept Away the memories of The great Okomfo Anokye, Kumasi, the Tree City, Oh, the inhabitance under the protective And motherly wings of the great tree, The Ayoko kingship deserves a clean land, This great city must regain Her serene and inviting sweet-scented Greeny and stable environment, For mother Ghana has always Pride herself in your glory and dignity, Kumasi, the Tree City, The precious eye of Asanteman, Never deny your former glory, Oh, the pride of West Africa You still have what it takes To be the Garden City of West Africa, You are Oseikrom indeed, Okumaninase, the capital city of Kwaman, The heart of the Republic of Ghana. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]
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Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC
KUMASI, THE TREE CITY
Kumasi, the Tree City, The Kingdom City with a divine eagle Standing bravely on a mighty stick, The unquestionable love that embraces The soul of the arch enemy, The tradition that swallows The ancient courage and modern pride, Kumasi, the Tree City, The mighty city that lies under The flying wings of the Beautiful Okumanin tree, The golden city of the Western Sudan Planted by the arm of the Almighty, You are truly the dwelling Abode of unity and majesty, Kumasi, the Tree City, The echoes of your ancestral spirits Do not sleep nor slumber You that provides a comfortable Seat for the grandson of The almighty Krobea Asante Kotoko, The modern pride of the great Ancient mother of Yaa Asantewaa, Kumasi, the Tree City, The great son of the vulture, Otomfuo Osei Tutu, may not Appreciate your present State of modernization, For you have surrounded T he Golden Stool with Carelessness and filth, Your crime rate has swept Away the memories of The great Okomfo Anokye, Kumasi, the Tree City, Oh, the inhabitance under the protective And motherly wings of the great tree, The Ayoko kingship deserves a clean land, This great city must regain Her serene and inviting sweet-scented Greeny and stable environment, For mother Ghana has always Pride herself in your glory and dignity, Kumasi, the Tree City, The precious eye of Asanteman, Never deny your former glory, Oh, the pride of West Africa You still have what it takes To be the Garden City of West Africa, You are Oseikrom indeed, Okumaninase, the capital city of Kwaman, The heart of the Republic of Ghana. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]
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54
There is a history, could be called their story, But the clouds, To the dirt beneath, Their finger nails, All were lined in silver, Or other precious metals, Smelted with treasured memories, Weaving silver through all, The storms, along every cloud, Each raindrop and teardrop too, They labored, In veins of mineral mines, They smelted iron ore, Got more troy ounces then they Bargained for, by the millions, Gold and silver for those linings, Precious and semi-precious metals, From deep holes in the ground, To a furnace that evaporated sweat, Under the fireproof suits, they worked hard, Honestly while wearing protective lenses and Not rose coloured glasses, it was a good life, Memories and faded glory days, Until the Company, took it away, bit by bit, Leaving, Flame but little glory, To those special days, And bygone days, There are still a few, Who survived modernization, There are many more, Whose best memory, Is the pension, Crew mates are gone, Spouses are gone, Yet the special days, Are celebrated anyways, In the Silver City, That joy is almost, Tangible, to when, Generations of men, Went home to their women, children Broke bread, drink vino and shots of grappa, Sharing day shift or afternoons, And graveyard shifts during the boom, Today many years later, more than 100, Now the fireworks light the night-sky, While figments of the past, stand shoulder, To shoulder, with those who remain, Shared memories of silver linings.
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
The place with a silver lining
Seasons come and go, it constantly changes Like changing a notebook that's running out of pages Modernization comes and wipe off traditional ways But does it really help us ? - That's the big question now a days Long time ago, we're all living in simplicity Everything's enough, and there's no scarcity We're contented with God's gift together with our family But those travellers came and changed our mindset Our culture experienced a very big offset And up to now- we can still see the disparity -For our country once became a kind of charity Adopting every detail of other's culture And had almost forgotten our own Theirs had grown in stature While ours was rarely sown. Tis' one of the sad thing to imagine But it's like just some of us are concerned Our culture is experiencing famine We need to feed it! - that's what I learned. Come to think of it my fellow Filipinos Culture is part of each and everyone of us So let's continue to enrich it and learn more values For in this modern world that constantly changes, it's the only thing that'll last.
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 6:31 AM UTC
"Culture"
Nature in its perfection Westernization just an immitation The destruction of entire cultures, thank you modernization
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
Society
It was time to do some re - structuring In - house changes were necessary to bring about better performance, modernization otherwise we'd be left behind with no motion He spent his time leaning on a ***** doing nothing, not good enough we're afraid then a quiz programme with as much charisma as a wet fish - now we wouldn't want to be churlish However, contract has expired, you're fired from your duties - we're moving on to new things anything must be better than what dullness brings we may not use your services again -going 'Well gentlemen, that's another one gone who shall we get rid of next so long.'
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
MAKE - OVER
Destruction of our own kind toys at the comprehension abilities that lack. Those who can't understand that As we diminish demoralize those who produce life as we ****** oppress half our countries history to allow those who are threatened by the ever forming modernization we **** off our masses we break our chance at reproduction until there is no one left to control but oneself.
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Don't be Power Meat Heads
slowly ever slowly the old site operates the person who runs it should bring it up to date other sites work far faster and more efficiently these are the sorts of sites which so pleasure thee the turn over of responses at the site is so slow it is truly a tired and worn out old show a little smartening up along with some rejigging would have the old place traveling with a five star rating the operator of the site is falling well behind the pack he should get the upgrading and modernization on track those who've visited the site in the last month or two cannot stand the waiting period in its long queue
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Slowly Ever Slowly
Auld Lange Syne by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times! Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? "Auld lang syne" means something like "times gone by" or "times long since passed" and in the context of the song means something like "times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly." In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, auld lang syne, old acquaintance, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, song Original Scots Dialect Lyrics Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne. CHORUS For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne. We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp! And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS We twa hae run about the braes And pu'd the gowans fine But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn Frae mornin' sun till dine. But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine! And we'll tak a right guid ***** waught, For auld lang syne.
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Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:53 AM UTC
Robert Burns "Auld Lange Syne" translation
Auld Lange Syne by Robert Burns modern English translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days for which we pine? For times we shared, my darling, Days passed, once yours and mine, We’ll raise a cup of kindness yet, To those fond-remembered times! Have you ever wondered just exactly what you're singing? "Auld lang syne" means something like "times gone by" or "times long since passed" and in the context of the song means something like "times long since passed that we shared together and now remember fondly." In my translation, which is not word-for-word, I try to communicate what I believe Burns was trying to communicate: raising a toast to fond recollections of times shared in the past. Keywords/Tags: Robert Burns, auld lang syne, old acquaintance, translation, modernization, update, interpretation, modern English, song Original Scots Dialect Lyrics Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne. CHORUS For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne. We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp! And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS We twa hae run about the braes And pu'd the gowans fine But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn Frae mornin' sun till dine. But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin auld lang syne. REPEAT CHORUS And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine! And we'll tak a right guid ***** waught, For auld lang syne.
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41
Half Life by Ryan P. Kinney Welcome to the digital age. Where man’s best friend is Internet **** And a woman’s only friend is her ******** We’ve traded a heartbeat for an electronic pulse. Blips and bleeps in an imagined humanity. Forgetting that living means leaving the house. And that sandals and boxer shorts are not formal wear. We live in the information age Full disclosure is no longer optional We are sharing information. We are contributing to the death of the self. Or are we finally mastering intelligence? There is an epidemic of inaction Entropied Progress The mobius sloth slides down into its own gluttony And I just want to have *** with someone who is still alive Have you seen the latest episode of Walking Dead or Breaking Bad? Have you looked in the mirror? Reality shows? Who’s reality? We are social creatures And social control is how you keep the pigs in their pen Until it’s time to offer us up as sacrifice at the altar of decadence We willingly give them our intelligence Our spirit For another video game Another TV show That promises a better reality See it all in HD While we dubstep to our doom Up Jacob’s Ladder Built out of the 15 minute prophets Sell me another artificially derived addiction Masquerading as sustenance Trading them like baseball cards Tell me how much I need it Need you Preach it with the fear of the unorthodox on Fox News While everyone’s getting high on your life Televangelist CEOs Sell us the next salvation The anarchists are screaming, “Legalize it.” And the stoners aren’t helping The half-life of modernization guarantees that if enough of our individuality decays There ceases to be anything worth calling human
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
Half Life
Half Life by Ryan P. Kinney Welcome to the digital age. Where man’s best friend is Internet **** And a woman’s only friend is her ******** We’ve traded a heartbeat for an electronic pulse. Blips and bleeps in an imagined humanity. Forgetting that living means leaving the house. And that sandals and boxer shorts are not formal wear. We live in the information age Full disclosure is no longer optional We are sharing information. We are contributing to the death of the self. Or are we finally mastering intelligence? There is an epidemic of inaction Entropied Progress The mobius sloth slides down into its own gluttony And I just want to have *** with someone who is still alive Have you seen the latest episode of Walking Dead or Breaking Bad? Have you looked in the mirror? Reality shows? Who’s reality? We are social creatures And social control is how you keep the pigs in their pen Until it’s time to offer us up as sacrifice at the altar of decadence We willingly give them our intelligence Our spirit For another video game Another TV show That promises a better reality See it all in HD While we dubstep to our doom Up Jacob’s Ladder Built out of the 15 minute prophets Sell me another artificially derived addiction Masquerading as sustenance Trading them like baseball cards Tell me how much I need it Need you Preach it with the fear of the unorthodox on Fox News While everyone’s getting high on your life Televangelist CEOs Sell us the next salvation The anarchists are screaming, “Legalize it.” And the stoners aren’t helping The half-life of modernization guarantees that if enough of our individuality decays There ceases to be anything worth calling human
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48
Our brave new world has turned remarkably cold There is no place for inefficiency among the looming towers Religions have been replaced with the worship of screens Charms have been supplanted by tungsten and lithium One by one, metropolises fell to “necessary” modernization I consider a certain member of these abaddons as my unfortunate home The city’s structures stand like monoliths, without luster or familiar name A place surely dredged from the deepest hell of mankind’s achievements Mechanical arachnids skitter across streets on continuous patrol their silver claws and whirring sensors passively click and scan We’ve no longer needed any member of sentient life to protect us Apparently, that was a task more suited for our heartless creations Any soul residing in the world has become artificial emotions, dreams, and identities discarded and digitized Former humans are now composed of more metal than meat They tread with measured steps and a uniform lack of expression I breathe the heavy clots of air through my visor and flip a few pages Long ago, this ancient relic came to my unsuspecting attention It held secrets of organisms that ran rampantly among landscapes Old Terra’s fertility sprang out from yellowed paper There is one creature that I found especially endearing It endured the harshest of the world's conditions, as I do in mine It was the deadliest of its kind, as I am among peers I bestowed my home with the creature’s striking moniker Now and forever, I live in the city of Taipan
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
Taipan
Our brave new world has turned remarkably cold There is no place for inefficiency among the looming towers Religions have been replaced with the worship of screens Charms have been supplanted by tungsten and lithium One by one, metropolises fell to “necessary” modernization I consider a certain member of these abaddons as my unfortunate home The city’s structures stand like monoliths, without luster or familiar name A place surely dredged from the deepest hell of mankind’s achievements Mechanical arachnids skitter across streets on continuous patrol their silver claws and whirring sensors passively click and scan We’ve no longer needed any member of sentient life to protect us Apparently, that was a task more suited for our heartless creations Any soul residing in the world has become artificial emotions, dreams, and identities discarded and digitized Former humans are now composed of more metal than meat They tread with measured steps and a uniform lack of expression I breathe the heavy clots of air through my visor and flip a few pages Long ago, this ancient relic came to my unsuspecting attention It held secrets of organisms that ran rampantly among landscapes Old Terra’s fertility sprang out from yellowed paper There is one creature that I found especially endearing It endured the harshest of the world's conditions, as I do in mine It was the deadliest of its kind, as I am among peers I bestowed my home with the creature’s striking moniker Now and forever, I live in the city of Taipan
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25
*I danced in the middle of grand central station Because that’s where I felt the most inspiration Weaving my body through the flood of generations Imagining all this stone in bright decorations Twisting and curving, collecting strange adoration A brief affair from strangers prior to transportation Where do you go when you’re lost, needing stimulation? A place to be you, exploring liberation A space to let go of all fears and reservation Where history is elegantly fused with current modernization I thought it was a home where my soul may take haven But I was urged by a workman to leave the location So much for my soul’s salvation*
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Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
Grand Central Station
Many centuries ago, Dwelled several dinosaurs, Ferocious & huge, Involving in food wars. Creating havoc, Hunting other reptiles, Killing them brutally, Feasting on their lives. And then came the phase, Getting dinosaurs to an extinction, A new beginning, For the human civilization. As and as, Improved the human intellect, New technologies,new innovations, Created a modern human sect. Up from the heaven, Watched the huge extinct beings, The man made world, A smart techie reign. All the dinosaurs, Had a feeling of satisfaction, Cause the havoc they created, Was continued in era of modernization. The animals they killed, The surroundings they destroyed, In the form of conflicts & bloodshed, The human life has derived. Dinosaurs were content, As their work is being completed, By selfish greedy humans, Mercy and humanity been depleted. Intellectually evolved humans, Excell in tact, Behave like wild ruthless creatures,  A bitter existing fact. Life may deplete, Humanity diminishes each day, Life may get extinct, Until ruthlessness is slayed.               - Kedar k
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Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 3:54 AM UTC
Once upon a time
It's never just a single moment ' It's a confluence of events Of my tragic demise Muted with misery ; Afraid and paralized . I cannot rememb'r how't hath happened ' How I lost it all ; Including my mind . I'm berefted . Since I realized , I stopped loving the things I loved the most And nothing rings a bell Except for a forgotten song The places change The pain remain Lack of entropy Got no string Hybridity Modernization Temporary It is, what it is . Either be dragged Or, let go Or be torned ' limb f r o m limb
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Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
Trapped '
My soul is parched Searching for an ancient knowledge That has been engulfed In a deep seated, widespread modernization When poison introduced to the body is being uplifted as medicine Forgetting to heal What has been damaged within As the body speaks to the soul We are mostly inclined For an immediate gratification We have sought to fulfill the physical But never the internal Fear may be one of the many factors In search of light One has to be blinded by darkness As Friedrich Nietzsche once said "If you gaze long enough into the abyss The abyss will gaze back into you." How terrifying would it be To see these monsters Wearing the same face as you..
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Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
Untitled
As I stare out the window watch the cars drive along the perfectly made roads see the people moving in and out of the city hear the birds chirping feel the soft breeze pulse through my skin I wonder if this world is faux a figure of my imagination a hopeless dream I've created to cover up the unfortunate reality to hide from the anthropogenic plague of that which is surreal modernization
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Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
faux