"omelas" poems
Can't sleep again.
Guilt in my head,
spinning, leaping,
autumn leaves,
bullfrogs and song lyrics.
Dice or bingo *****
which one comes up first?
Again, again,
remember to slow down,
and Olivar favorite parts.
When they were ours,
when we belonged.
log, sixty-six percent,
percentage of original,
original sin, seven sins, se7en,
Sin of Cortez,
tea, teaz me,
Olivar favorite parts.
Can't sleep again.
The Ones Who Walked Away From Omelas.
Salem, O.
Greyhound, stick-on roses,
cigarette smoke,
choke in my lungs,
stink on my clothes,
desperation in skinny jeans
and step-dads tranquilizers,
the open window beckons,
sleeping beauty, Rapunzel.
Tangled web,
Charlotte with 8 legs,
and a Durok below,
hounds howl, bellow, yodel
at the moon above,
desperate for a life long gone,
adventures never known.
Indiana Jones, satchel and lasso.
Or was it a whip?
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
Let your eyes adjust
Are you sure, you truly understanding what your seeing
I’m a human being captured by the ignorance of darkness before you
Has this cave sincerely shackled you to your seat?
And only shadows on the wall
Is what we only believe exists
Is there more to life
Question and answer answer and question
Life is filled with opposites
Take me, as a messenger telling you
That the world we live in is a pseudo-reality
Tell me do you know what really happened during nine eleven?
Do you know that you are able to bend a spoon?
Do you truly believe that America is the ambassador for democracy?
Or ironically terrorism in itself
We believe what we want to believe, that is the human condition
Curiosity fueled by suggestion
The problem, is understanding that our curiosity can be lead into fallacy
Have you seen the light, the light of the red pill?
That will no longer make you ill
To this ignorance of illusions, that the media has communicably gave to us
I stand before you with a light of my own
Not completely enlightened but enough to tell you
To question your surroundings and not preach
But rather hopefully teach you
To do just as Socrates did. To keep on questioning
Because we don’t have all the answers
Hopefully we may one day completely have the courage
To leave this Omelas of American thought
And find that natural drive within us to seek the truth
The world isn’t this tangible sugar coated honest reality
Individuals lie, deceive, and make the world what it doesn’t seem to be
Please have an open mind
For what the world needs is growth in intellect
And not in economy for to understand that legitimately
We may then begin to solve the problems of humanity
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC
Wax lyrical about those other little *****
With their heads full of arrogance.
With their hearts full of lies.
With their fists full of misplaced angst.
With their smirks full of "Told you So"
Who am I?
I've walked away from Omelas
They've tied the ******* albatross to my neck.
Laughter fills the air,
There They Sit with My Middle finger in the air.
Staring back through that looking glass.
"She hurt you and you meant nothing to her....AGAIN!"
Shouting in the mirror till I fix my tie and walk about.
Shouting out of the mirror until you fix your tie and sob.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
Hinting the youngest rose
She wasn't that fascinating
She wasn't that spectacular
She wasn't anything special
Or so she thought
The grand flower path,
The elder roses elaborated
Where love isn't near hatred
Hope is far from disappointment
Tears verge away from pain
And sanity is distant from oppression
A place filled with whimsy
A place truly remarkable
A place where the rose and even lone stewartias can blossom eternally
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 6:44 AM UTC
please, touch me everywhere
it hurts.
touch these 300 cuts,
more or less,
my ribs —
breaking like museum columns,
my lips —
chapped from being sober
for a week.
please, touch me,
until misery feels
less familiar
than happiness.
touch me until deep talks
aren't about dying,
until walking away from life
feels less profound
than walking away
from omelas.
please, touch me everywhere
it hurts, darling;
i want to go through
all my breakdowns
in your arms.
please, touch me everywhere it hurts.
please touch me.
everywhere.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 1:09 AM UTC
The day is bright and clear
The sweet melody's of music fills the air
Everywhere you see children laughing, children playing
All is well and all is good
everyones living the way as they all should
The adults are joyful, mature and intelligent
They have hearts of gold
and their lives are not wretched
But how unfortunate for a child to suffer for the guarantee of everyones happiness
locked away in a cage underneath the city living in total misery
They've all based their lives on the harsh reality of justice
For the possible happiness of the degraded child would be possible not probable to be set against the sure happiness of the many
Those who's eyes that have gazed upon the child are the ones who walked away from Omelas
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 2:24 PM UTC