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William Eberlein Feb 2013
This dark room is my life.
It is all that I have ever known.

In it,
I am blind to who I truly am,
and I prefer it this way.

I thought it was safe.
I thought it was solid.
I was wrong.

It cracked,
It broke,
and it shattered.

Down,
down,
down it came.

Amongst the rubble of my solitude,
my home,
here I stand.

A monster among men.
Brother Jimmy Jan 2015
Boolos says eliminate the random

I say lend me your gun

If-and-only-if statements are faulty

And this just became less fun


I don’t know the difference

Between ja and da

My head is on the line

Let’s pause for vichyssoise


Knights and knaves must understand

The question that you ask

And answer “themfully”, the question at hand

And keep you on your task


And you must be able to comprehend

What it is that you’re asking

To make their answers worth a ****

And keep you from the offing


The logician’s straight-jacket

The turn of the *****

And what about time, does that play-in too?

(The time to process what to do?)


What would D say if I asked

How G would answer me

Whether F is happy "if-and-only-if"

It’s obeyed and it’s free


Well it’s all a bit of *******

It’s wordplay and it’s noise

These tortured, bent, crafty, minds

Have dark, insidious toys
September Roses Jun 2018
Go asphyxiate yourself

On your dilusional thought of love
One day you'll find the one

And all your problems will dissolve

Your happily ever after

The true perfect match
that you cant spend a waking hour without dreaming of how much they mean to you

Grow old with
Every second of your life as long as you both shall live

Scrap book with and share vows of love
Love
   Love

Your fairy tail ending with your Cinderalla and Prince Charming

Search for the eternal solution to loneliness

Your soulmate
     Your other half

True love will set you free


Is that right?



Go **** yourself
Apporva Arya Jun 2017
Today m in gratitude,
Thanking for the times I survived.
When
solution seem to be problems,
& Problems were constant.
When I was afraid of mornings,
& filled with dark inside.
When I was 1 part love,
& 3 part fear.
Oh ! My poor vision.

But today my past is beyond me
& I am new me.
Today I sees deep skies with hopeful eyes.
If I have learned anything in this long life of mine,it is this,in love we find out who we want to be ,in war we found out who we are.
Words are the chemicals
Packed in vials sublime
Untouched pure in time
Their base Property lyrical

Words are the coefficients
Reactants , The Thoughts and Emotions
To balance the emotional equation
Poetic are the words omniscient

Combustible the thoughts, fragile the emotions
Handle with care , the equations
Cold storage processed, refilled
Magnanimous ,the words distilled

Thoughts never too dormant
Never static the emotions
The words a kinetic solution
Potential they have Charmant
Some thoughts  about words

Thank you all, for all your love for this particular piece, today, 28th May, this got selected as the daily!
Will soon respond to everyone, thanks and blessings!!
Christian Ek Jun 2014
Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.
Qweyku Sep 2018
Time is...
a gift, barely examined
a present, rarely opened
locked away in a strong box
its key cobwebbed under
the dust of procrastination.

In disbelief
we feign ignorance  
mentally banking cheques
signed:'all the time in the world'

Yet we drink reflectively
from warm comforting
fragile glazed cups
filled with the brazen solution:
'no time like the present'.

Perhaps we all 'need a break'...
_______
'in a jiffy' may be too late.

© Qwey.ku
Shang Dec 2013
I am a
    figure of speech
           for the permanent solution
                of a temporary problem.

                you were the universe
          expressing it's depression.

         oh,
        how concerned you
     certainly always
   were.
  in total shambles-
I anxiously awaited
as time cleverly excluded you.

I now face this hurling semi alone.
(C) Shang
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
When the mind is restless
Ping the Universe

It will find a way
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Power of Prayer
sparkjams Oct 2012
the evil man funk wobbles in
with a grin the size of a whirlpool
sister, please go back to
the society of your selves
I didn’t even look at him

horse on the bandstand
run for your super lives
you’re gonna enjoy this twisted
this acidic mouth wash solution
your little punch in the mouth all the time
all the long while
I’m building fabulous from the ground down
party in the underworld I’m so invited
last rainy night Nov 2018
i wish i could talk to you
on how ironic it is to be me

where you are the reason
why sadness dawns upon my chest
yet, you are also the only solution
that can soothe this emotional distress
slr Oct 2018
mov•ie
\ ˈmü-vē \

noun

1.a story represented in motion pictures/motion : noun : mo·tion : \ ˈmō-shən \ : an act, process, or instance of changing place/forward, backward, up, down, pacing, running, crawling/how we flee from our lives, our problems, our responsibilities/instead of focusing on motion we look to pictures/picture : noun : pic·ture :  \ ˈpik-chər \ : a design or representation made by various means/click, zoom, import, export/our lives are on a flash drive, on a snapchat, on an instagram, on a memory card/everywhere but on our own memories/we don’t like pictures either/they show moments never to be regained from our past/our solution?/combine them into something better/movie : verb : mov·ie :  \ ˈmü-vē \ : an escape from reality/we use movies to deflect the pain of our lives/we think that we watch because we are bored/no/we watch to escape/escape : verb :  es·cape : /əˈskāp/ : a recording of moving images that tells a story and that people watch on a screen or television.
I wrote this a while back but I fell in love with dictionary poetry after it
Bus Poet Stop Jun 2018
~for those who will read this and weep~

the quiet ones,
the silent Job ones,
who quote not from the
Book of Lamentations,
but author their own,
based on-the-Job experience

localized versions of cryptic elegiacs
accepting the wooden crosses borne,
stepping up to the
unrequested unforeseen,
then buried under, burnt alive,
yet never relieved by dying,
nailed by words, stronger than iron,
promises sworn, promises kept
with no ending date relief,
promises by and to themselves,
but not for themselves!


the wearers of crystal glass shackles,
adorned with decorative locks for which
no key did the maker make,
nor any divine creator
dare conceive an early release,
never no escape contemplated,
for the lock human, unrepentant unbreakable,
a decorative useless metaphor gesture,
a blunt “life *****” advertisement

I compose amidst a
bus pond of mismatched city folk,
a tapestry of ages colors and differing views on god/no god,
none would believe that as the bus sways me,
it’s in rhythm to holy choral music,
hundreds year old,
divinity masses and motets worships,
where one human can hide temporarily
a safe house,
to calm his questioning relentless
from the horrors of no answers,
for when the mind has no solution
to the rough and tumbling lives,
lived in glass shackled confinement,
the poets desperation equals theirs


summon eagles to transport these imprisoned,
but the shackled refuse,
I come to them but they wave me off,
I go crazy for once I was enslaved,
thirty years war that left devastation,
from which so many poems created

so I speak with heightened regard
of one who planned futures for others where his
non-existence was a founding father (ha!)


but the day came and
I was released by my own inactions,
but means nothing until a way to
away found
to release the yet bound early


got a couch, airline miles, hundred dollars
in my pocket and an unrelenting need
to save them, a consumption disease,
the glass shackled, at ease,
won’t rest till all are freed
this my creed
no one left behind

these cyber words do not mock
for they are unbounded, set free,
when
the flesh connects and the needs of the flesh
are stronger for they are in heart conceived
Esmena Valdés Aug 2018
The sky is a bowl of withered stars.
With emotion veiled
in the corner
of those truly murky blankets.
I spoke with the ghost of a fulminated tree
he told me his story
that is mine.

So his indirect revenge.


I will make a prayer to the rainbow after the flood,
after us,
after you and me.

There is no solution outside of love.
Desirae Hoover Oct 2013
It’s too late
There’s no place to run
There’s no street to cross
There’s no solution

It’s too late

Too much damage has already been done.
Too much heart already has a big enough hole.
  Too much soul already has a big enough crack.
No way of fixing it.

It’s too late

You can’t change the past.
You can’t heal blood deep scars.
You can’t make fairy dust out of dirt.

I’m too far gone
It’s too late for me
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2017
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.
Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.


~~~

faint knocking at the door to the Tower of Song

the ministering angels, hearing a rhythmic, lyrical rapping,
sigh, thinking the atonement day,
the holiday/holy days, are supposedly over,
the human balancing act, the rush to judgement period,
all tallies totaled, the busy sale season for souls,
at last completed, each fate inscribed & sealed,
in the book of life^

but, always one,
the itinerant straggler, the last reluctant sinner, a judgment resister,
flaunting an expired coupon, trumpeting demands for a recount,
waving it, claiming it, the bearer, entitled to a mercy discount and
an extra 30 days

"who shall we say is calling?"

the Angels are stunned to hear,
a familiar raspy, growling, almost indescribable,
yet, stammeringly, beautiful voice enchanting,
equally asking and answering,  how both,
with a strident humility, "a man in search of answers"

this voice, instantaneous recognizable,
the asking superfluous,
all beating wings now, all in vast excitement,
this psalmist, long awaited, one of His best,
a chosen one, a courtly singer in the Temple of his people,
blessed with the curse of seeing and believing,
the comprehension of beauty of the human superior interior,
never being quiet or quite satisfied,
in capturing, its multifarious variations,
in every language spoken

this is the man who took ten years
to compose just
one song,
one poem,
one word,
Hallelujah,
whose faith was strong,
but still needed proofs,
whose every breath of oxygen inhalation,
brought more questions,
every exhalation, only releasing partial answers,
and yet, still, yes, yes! finding hidden verses inside

a simple, everlasting
hallelujah

the hubbub subsides, the man sings~speaks:
how came I here,
was I one, who by fire?
that fire afeared,  that my finality was spirit consumer?

one voice, answers,
in one voice, the swaying back-up singers answer,
not by fire, not by water, not by stoning or
even drowning
in tea that came from all the way from China

when sing we Angels, the Judgement Day poem,
we alone, on high and above,
we, keepers of the books and records of everyone,
are permitted this to query:

Who by Sufficiency?

you, the sidekick of the creator,
special commissioned by him, anointed to live a life of research,
record in word and song the mysteries of musical gene strings,
that intertwine the skin cells of man and woman,
man and his fellow us-human,
your soul commandeered, ordered, delve deeper,
into the consolable chasm tween divine and mortals,
all those who are poorly constructed
in his image

he, who has earned his place, his best rest,
his works adjudged sufficient,
he, who best answered
this judging,
this calling out,
calling in
incantation,

Who by Sufficiency?

now forward on, write only of answers,
wade in the troubled waters no more,
no more passports, or borders to cross,
no more measuring the days,
the last road trip finale
finished & feted,
fate meted

no more changing thy name, changeling priest,^^
sing songs of solution, salvation,
for the questioning hours of confusion,
the urgency of revolution,
no longer need a hallelujah resolution


                                                    ­| | |
Who By Fire                             Who By Fire, Who By Water:^
(lyrics by Leonard Cohen)     (A Yom Kippur Hebrew Prayer)

who by fire                             How many shall die and      

who by water,                                how many shall born,
Who in the sunshine,                 Who shall live      
who in the night time,                   who shall die,                      
Who by high                                Who at the measure of days,
who by common trial,                    and who before,
Who in your merry                            
                                                          Who by fire
month of May,                                 and who by water
Who by very                                 Who by sword,
slow decay,                                       and who by wild beasts,
And who shall I                      Who by hunger,
say is calling?                              and who by thirst,

And who in her,                           Who by earthquake
lonely slip,                                         and who by plague
who by barbiturate,                      Who by strangling,
Who in these                                    and who by stoning
realms of love,                               Who shall have rest,

who by,                                             and who shall go wandering,
something blunt,                            Who will be tranquil,
And who by avalanche,                  and who shall be harassed,
who by powder,                            Who shall be at ease,
Who for his greed,                           and who shall be afflicted,
who for his hunger,                      Who shall become rich,
And who shall I,                             and who shall become poor,
say is calling?                                Who will be raised high,
                                                         ­     and who will be brought low
And who by brave assent,                  
who by accident,
Who in solitude,
who in this mirror,
Who by,
his lady's command,
who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains,
who in power,
And who shall I,
say is calling?




^From the liturgy of Rosh Hasanah, the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur, the  Day of Atonement, there is this truly stunning prayer (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unetanneh_Tokef) in the Jewish liturgy. The Book of Life contents the fate of every sinner. From the first day of the new year, until ten days later, on Yom Kippur, depending on whether the sinner repents or not, his fate is sealed.
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.

Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.

^^"A Kohens ancestors were priests in the Temple of Jerusalem. A single such priest was known as a Kohen, and the hereditary caste descending from these priests is collectively known as the Kohanim.[2] As multiple languages were acquired through the Jewish diaspora, the surname acquired many variations." Today, with no temple, the limited role of the Kohanim is to bless the Jewish people on the high holy days with a  special prayer with abeloved tune,  instantly evocative (see wikipedia.org/wiki/Priestly_Blessing) The Kohanim are still revered, honored, and always called up first to the Sabbath reading of the weekly portion of the Old Testament

A thank you to Bex for proofing and encouragement.
Part I of a trilogy
For a  more detailed analysis of the roots of the song, "Who By Fire," and its origins, see:
_____________________________________________
http://www.leonardcohen-prologues.com/who_by_fire.htm

He worked on the song Hallelujah, arguably his most famous composition, for ten years.
Americans, well, at least in the media believe that the way to change behaviors is to punish either criminally, civilly or socially anyone who doesn't fit the societal norm.

Think about that for a minute,

...when someone is emotionally conflicted to the point that their behavior is no longer considered within a range of acceptance and THEN society decides, or any group, movement, political ideology or party to shun or expel, to incarcerate, admonish and thereby torture an, "emotionally conflicted," soul what you have accomplished by society's response is to create permanent anger and hatred.

Permanent anger and hatred.

American society therefore can be said to relish hatred and permanent anger as a way of life for all of it's citizens since every single person whom is inflicted with pain upon suffering will be assured to continue inflicting whatever pain and suffering they can on everyone else the rest of their life. So your only solution is to remove these souls from society permanently.

Was that the intent?

Is that the goal?

Do we need law, rules and fantasy crimes for every single thing a person says or does?

Is the endgame to remove these from society or to reform them?


Imagine now,

America arrests or imprisons one million people per year for using drugs,

...there are forty million felons alive today.

Wow! Lot of bad guys off the streets huh? Let's put that another way shall we?

America ruins a million people a year.
America creates a million 'soon-to-be' violent felons every year.
"Felons," who were nonviolent before being tortured by society and tortured in prison...forty million angry people live around you right now.

Forty million people!

America must want the nation to fail for every year we destroy a million people just because we want to be able to say at least I am not as bad as that person and point your finger while knowing there is no reason, no civil crime, that warrants bankruptcy, imprisonment, violence, ****, abuse, belittling, shame and banishment just because you personally don't like video games.

...or you don't like gambling,
...or you don't enjoy ***.
...or you don't smoke marijuana,
...or you hate Hollywood liberalism.
...you can't stand alcoholics,
...or you're afraid of the mentally ill.
...or your jealous of the *** you perceive someone having,
...angry because you think you work harder than someone else,
...because you deserve a better life so why not destroy others right?

Hatred as a virtue.

I wonder what our economy would be like if the 'fifty-plus' MILLION alleged criminals had jobs instead of listing away producing the smallest amount of productivity possible because YOU THINK they deserve to have a worse life for acting in a manner you do not agree with PERSONALLY.

That is one out of every seven people in The United States.

Hatred perpetuated.

That is American culture and that is why Black Lives Matter.
John White Nov 2018
I just want it to end.

The hopelessness, the fear,
the constant critic in my head:
I've lived with them all for too long.

All I've ever known is this war, this endless battle.
There's nothing wrong with wanting it to end.
To wish that it didn't is cruel.

But why can't the best solution be the simplest?
Why do I have to keep fighting?

At times it's deafening,
and I'm so exhausted.

Why can't I just lay down in no man's land
and let this battle fall silent around me?

Why can't that be the end?

Because... I'll never known what's possible.
Saint Audrey Apr 2018
Solvent and solution
Kept assuaged for so long
Treading in the selfishness of my subconscious state
Of barely traceable memories, spurred on by the gravity of time spent
At the briefest hint at past involvement

Each leaf falls, eventually.
Every pristine little well formed tended to.
Each nurtured, cared for, parcel or idea.

I can watch them for hours
Watching them fall, one by one, for hours.
When days start to bleed together, out of the corner of my eye,
I can always see them, marking progression.
Collecting in drifts, then, taken by the wind, then
The rot sets in.

I used to watch this.

I used to find time.

The roof cast me in its shadow, even standing along the banister that runs along the length

Even as the final rays of sun start to vanish one at a time
Lizzy Mar 2014
A hug is so rare
The kind that can make you smile
And make you feel safe.

When I open up my thoughts and confide in you,
I'm not looking for a solution,
Or for anyone to fix me
I'm looking for a hug.

Because like you said
You're not my psychiatrist
Not my husband
You're just a boy.

And boys will come and go
None of them can fix me
I have to fix me
But all I wanted was a hug

Wanted to feel safe
Wanted to know you cared
But if you can't do that
Than I guess this is where we must part
And I will miss you.

I will miss dancing in your basement
Playing with your gecko
Listening to your thoughts
And what you have to say

Sometimes you don't make sense
But that's okay because it makes sense to you
And if you need someone to listen
I'll be here
And if you ever need a hug
I guess I'll show you the compassion
That you couldn't show me
I got dumped for being a ****** up mess. Oh well. All I wanted was a hug. I didn't want him to fix me. I didn't want a therapy session, I just wanted to know someone gave a ****.
petalsofhope Nov 2013
people watching in a coffee shop
is one of the simple pleasures in life
the bizarre satisfaction you get
when you sit by the window
solving crossword puzzles
or probably sipping your cup of hot latte
immediately tilting your head up
when someone enters
analyzing, wondering,
as they pass by your table
what kind of person they are?
what coffee do they drink?
what do they do in the coffee shop?
where were they from?
who are they with?
thoughts by thoughts
questions by questions
curiosity kicks in
eventually clouding your mind
as you nibble your chapped lip
finally finding a solution
to the crosswords
also your futile thoughts
without hesitation
you give those people in the shop
every single one of them
a life
based on their coffee
just some random thoughts of mine
False Poets Feb 2015
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant**

instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable

mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind

quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned

the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
tired and depressed
lost and abandoned
no love
no hope
until one day i stumbled on a drink that made me feel alive
don't let the name depressant fool you
it slows my reactions the thoughts
the voices that tell me i'm worthless
alcohol was the solution i have been searching for
even better it was always there
always there.... and if i drink a little more the high lasts a little longer
i was all alone and hurt
until alcohol came and clouded everything
it was the escape i needed
and that is how i was made an alcoholic
i'm reading a psychology book.... i don't drink.
Ashleigh Black Apr 2014
It's the way it creeps into your brain
and intoxicates your thoughts
and triggers unwanted emotions
and inhibits your every move
leaving you paralyzed from
the neck down.

And there's nothing you can do
except take the red or blue pill --
a temporary solution to
a lifelong illness
that will stop at nothing to
devour all the good inside you.

I just wish it would stop
and allow me to breathe
and keep my chest from feeling
as if a thousand needles are lodged inside.
That's my small request.
Why can't I have that?
Mental illness is a terrible, terrible thing.
It has become clear, since the Great Recession began, that the American banking and the political, "systems," are 'one-and-the-same' entity. Neither works for the majority of Americans but both appear to be working quite well, historically-compared, in fact, for the richest or most advantaged people.

Life should model to become a, "heaven," on earth for all people not just those at the foremost of political benefit, wealth or talent. This current state of affair is not what Plato envisioned. It is not what the Founding Fathers intended. America should not be about exclusion and private benefit but the public as a whole and the individual inclusion; Every Man a King.

Not Kings among the men who serve them...even Jesus would be appalled.

No one wants to think they are taking something they do not deserve or someone is being forced to accept something they do not want yet it is clear by the recent election that the American people are fed-up and ready to start taking things away. Naturally since they own this nation not the Fortune 500.

At a point greed undoes itself.

Rather than reach that point, the ultimate point of violence, we should endeavor our creative consciousness to alleviate the concerns of the excluded masses as Congress has proven that government can fix major world-altering problems such as the worst financial crisis in modern history. They cannot agree on health care, minority rights or ****** behavior but when Wall Street came begging they had no issues in agreement.

So here we are with a solution for the smallest percentage of Americans that fixed part of the economy leaving the multitude behind with nothing. Sorry, they got something; half of all familial wealth created since the Federal Reserve Act has been wiped out for the bottom half of society.  

Half...

Our economy is a dud. Ironically our central bank along with England's now admit they failed Main Street and furthermore say they should no longer be involved in these kinds of decisions! Yes, Americans should eliminate all of their authority over the finance industry, central banking and monetary policy leaving it the hands of those beggars who ruined it for everyone but themselves and admitted they failed us all?

How about a simple act of Congress to amend the matter?

Declare that all publicly-traded corporations can no longer issue corporate bonds or stock for revenue if they do not offer consumers a prepayment option to their accounts with an interest bearing incentive. From now on all corporations with publicly-issued stock must accept any prepayment towards future consumer services liabilities and pay an annualized interest rate identical to the Fed prime rate.

What corporation would not want to borrow at the Fed prime rate?

When any company needs money for expansion they should have the option to pool money directly from the account holder's prepayment revenue as long as they credit those accounts on all prepayments regardless of usage at the Fed rate. If they do not pay interest they should not be allowed to access the funds until a current invoice for service is generated and due from the consumer. Consumers should be able to earn money by being good stewards and paying off future liabilities early, or if requested, the consumer should receive a check for all of their annualized interest at the end of each fiscal year.

Corporations now need you to finance their dreams and you can finance your own with real interest paid to you since most of these multinational corporations would be bankrupt and gone today had not your bank, The Federal Reserve, issued credit and capital to save them as they whined about the unfairness in the economy.

"Unfair?"

For whom?
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