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Running in place is all I seem to be doing.

Wanting growth is hard when you don't have the means,
but the will is so strong.

So strong is all these people ever say
wanting to brake you down with expression
coupled with envy.

My walls cave in
the pressure seems to crush me completely imploding my body into matter.

What's the matter now?
What's next
Im waiting.

Waiting for the light to shrine through
to carry me up
to somewhere new.
i wrote this while struggling to find a job shortly after i found my dream job
Marla Sep 2018
O with what heavy heart
And steaded blissfulness
Doth I burdened start
Dodge the dreaded crinkles.
My soul is aching,
Much to my chagrin
As she stands there alone,
Sullenly basking.
How I Wish to be freed
From this forsaken place
Allowed to wander by steed
At a vagabond's thorough pace.
Yearn for adventure
I shall
Through the bitter years that follow,
For I myself a lady
Stall not the humble morrow.
An infinite wait spent in solemnity .
Doreen Cavazza Apr 2012
The river flows over empty promises
depositing sediment
in the form of confusion and stagnation
leaving a bad taste in one's mouth.
I hang on your every word.
Grainy is the trail
of crumbs left for inspection:
affectation over articulation;
all the better to hear you.
Skim a stone across the surface
leaving ripples of insecurities
and questions past.
The message is clear.
jane taylor May 2016
i fight to peel each moment
of pure stagnation
off of me

a tinnitus cacophony whines in my ears
as my dilapidated fan
keeps slow rhythm to the faucet drip

minutes drag like molasses
handcuffed to the daily lag
groundhog day

i escape into the forest
running, the breeze caresses my face
wildlife pries open my desperate eyes

a spider’s web bends and sways in the wind
fine strands of silver silk flow
soaring they meld in crescent waves

a butterfly glides gently by
befriending gusts of air
softly breathing in another tomorrow

the conductor of the symphony
with sculptor’s hands i cannot see
whispers ever graciously

life is not your enemy
drink it in and let it seep
drop your sword i’m molding thee

Gaius Normanyo Mar 2017
I do not want to be a fishing float
adrift on the waters of existence,
allowing myself to accept stagnation,
bobbing ever buoyant to
the ebb and flow of the mundane.
Reel me in and cast me again into living waters.
Wash away doubts and anxiety —
the fears that snag my line, my vexation.
Give me peaceful rest in fresh water
that is replenished by Your rain.
10:45 PM, 3/14/17
Inspired by a lakeside photography escape after class, the fishers that I met, and the following verses.
John 4:14
Matthew 4:19
Isaiah 45:8
Check them out sometime.
BoringBoy Dec 2018
mariamme Mar 2018
I live in leftover spaces
like birds in a nest of
last year's feathers
crusted over and forgotten
like the stagnation of
a parent's dreams and
desperate clinging to new life.

They call me useless material
mismatched like straw and silk,
torn fabric from an old sweater
like old memories refurbished-
no longer useless.

I live in leftover spaces
in a world clogged up
by faces whose worth
is measured up against
the constant dripping of time
onto the cave floor of life:

they act as if it matters where you land.

I live in leftover space
because I like the way emptiness
is so easily redeemable:
    there's no renovation to be
    done in something so bare.
Just room for more
useless material
to congregate and be made new.
Spike Harper Aug 2017
It isn't a game.
But one can definitely lose.
There are no competitors.
Yet self comparisons fog hind sight.
Leading to more dreary backroads that the world forgot about.
It was fun for a little while.
Telling yourself that you threw away the world and not vise versa.
Was truly the greatest lie.
One that grew into actual belief for a time.
But found that the greatest hell.
Is watching your paradise burn.
Bound only by disbelief.
It's a shame that when you lose everything.
Somehow your mind is the only thing that stays intact.    
As if those aspects were programmed into humans in preparation for it..
And happiness got the short end of the stick.
Then to further rub dirt into the wound we create hope.
By means of pursuit.
Shakespeare knew the questions.
And left it up to everyone else to answer.
Only as generations pass.
We couldnt be further from any resemblance of an answer.
Let alone know the question has already been proposed.
Writers play with this notion and yield no two pairs alike.
Lifes most important knowledge sadly can only come from experiencing it.
But with the world in such a desensitized state.
The fear of stagnation is becoming the only real possibility.
Predetermined the moment we chose to let others choose for us.
There is no freedom.
Only sacrifice.
Forgive my semi rant. A lot is going on in and out of my head.
home ; i ought wish from

comfort slums the fallow feet

means of revival

Anti Haiku
Emeka Mokeme Aug 2018
Here standing again
at the edge of the cliff,
struggling against the
force of the wind.
Drenched and cold,
thinking and wondering
what to do.
This is what I was seeking.
I wanted to feel the
storm in my bones.
Fearing what I want and
wanting what I fear.
Desiring and yearning for it,
yet distanced myself from it.
Never been more sure
about changing than now.
Angels are busy working and
trying to show visions
of heaven.
But here am I clawing the
ground trying to get hell for you.
Now I have to stop struggling,
for this striving and toiling are not
yielding desired fruits.
I'm so breathless from all this
going up and down
trying to make it work.
Rest is not so bad after all this
rigours of running around.
Dullness has taken over the heart
of one who suppose to rule.
Stagnation cannot be tolerated
and condoned or we all go down.
Change is needful urgently.
It is time for you to learn the balance.
I bring from the east,
I bring from the west,
I bring from the south,
I bring from the north
the power of balance.
It begins in the spirit.
We can balance anything.
Our voice, our work, our body.
You can even balance your sadness.
First you find patience.
Perhaps you will meet patience in this
sunlight and become good friends.
I will tell you again.
I will tell you again and again
until your inside knows.
It takes a long time to learn the art of balance.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Illuminae Xscar Jun 2017
dark and defined shadows
created from clarity of the light

electricity and chaotic confusion
born amidst smoke and your unreadable eyes

my winter eyes still frozen
from the death-chill laid upon them
when the wind rushed up from the house
of endless dying, no ease of pain
eternal damnation
eternal stagnation
where lovers only number one
where the lamentation goes unheeded
land of relentless mortal summer
nothing and everything left of you

I hunted, you touched me
I fell victim to my sacrifice
Now my game is no longer my own

haunted by your words,
what was ever real in your eyes?
over and over
i hear your words over and over
i watch our scenes over and over
where did i fail

repetition, i am stuck in winter
bright sun, again
your unreadable eyes
Iska Jul 31
I have always advocated that we must push beyond merely existing. We must live. Unapologetically. With out hesitation or reservations. “To be the spark that ignites the fire within all we cross paths with.”
How foolishly hopeful that seems now.
I have become exactly what I despised.
Fallen into the lull that is stagnation. Hushed by the silence of acceptance and helplessness that has draped over my existence.
With no hobbies or goals to speak of I have seemed to lose the drive to burn like a flame. And worse yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that it is something I can escape, or that I should even attempt to break out of this trance.
I had fancied myself to be unique. Fearless to the rules that society has placed in attempt to squish us into the mold of complacency. When really, I have been fooling myself all along.
Right now, as I am,
I am not unique.
I am not brave.
Sid soup Jan 11
An aversion to the complex conversation
a radical explanation of the common conversion direction with misplaced inspection
It's the sign of the benign revolution 
as a messenger of the end times, I make my plea
bring swiftly the ides of desolation end the conformity, end reprieve
the starvation and the political stagnation
with the eyes of a closed nation
nobody will flee to higher elevation
nobody with a clue will feel true emotion
nothing left to do but a clean brief motion
"Nobody deserves to feel"
but everybody wants to heal
the world has enough pain to suffocate the blue out of the sky
Kemy Sep 2018
Gave of salacious self, your just due
My one and only dream I wanted to come true
Earthbound after a meteorite crash
Healing properties within this castaway shall come to pass
Wings has been tenderly clipped
The aftermath of a silent emotional eclipse

Walking, running, and soaring, keep flapping but slowly slipping
Heartbeat dipping, ripping
Slowly suffocating as I’m contemplating
Feelings keep overruling, dominating
Restless from stagnation
Mental searching for relocation
Suspended, spent, recessed from the relent

In the hunt for a pleasurable escape to soar to the sky
No questions no earthly whys
A Galactic Dream Weaver
Da Vinci Code, I’m picking up my telephone receiver
The Holy Grail secrets for my mind to set sail
The marooned answers found in life’s details

Standing in vain, waiting for a starship from a cosmic believer
No expressive deceivers
My Mazda 5, an Uber, or a Lyft driver can’t get me up there
Without restraints, I need to inhale celestial air
Showered by a beautiful spiritual given rainbow
Sentiments offered from a treasured chest as they stream when they softly flow

A Gordian knot devoid of hope, a beanstalk, for me, too slow
Something one must know
As your presence comes to offer me a sweet riding tow
Spirit is now on the run
Trying to astral plane beyond the sun
I need to glance down from the stars
Up and beyond, emotions, mistakes seem so miniscule and far

The beginning, the ending, where I descended
The integrity of a tattered angel, a cocoon of self, until my cerebral cortex is Heavenly mended
As my earthly presence blends within
Keeping a rein on life’s sins

I do not know if my salsa dance has come to an end
The absence of loss as emotions reflect to bend
Does time ever remain the same
Please don’t forget my name
On the contrary
For the love given from a twinkling star, and a kiss from an earthbound fairy
Godawan May 12
Life is a comedy to him who thinks
And a tragedy to him who feels
Take life as chaplin's comedy and think as if you are nobody
Life is movement stagnation is death
Be active and not selective
Colour healing is a divine science
No better ways than to take colours from sunset and sunrise
Music lend grace and health to the soul and body
That is why take music as a hobby
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak
Keep spirit strong by one day's  fast in a week
The way to a man's heart is through his stomach
Preserve heart by giving healthy diet to stomach
The less one tempers with food the better it is for the system
Be natural ,think natural and keep narural to the system
To eat is human to digest divine
This is the best thought for all time
Eat to Live and not live to eat
Eat less and live longer
Yenson Aug 25
Thieving and burglary - deliberate
indulgent, ignorance, waste of opportunities - deliberate
drinking, loose morals, bad company, drugging - deliberate
lazy, stupidity, state dependency in viable health - deliberate
babies for welfare payments, employment avoiding - deliberate
hate, envy, jealousy, lies, slander, crimes, drunkenness - inadequacies
Racism, ignorance, small mindedness, pettiness, belligerence - Low scale inherent characteristics

Betrayal - engineered
Loss of employment and brilliant career ruination - engineered
alone and social isolation - engineered
lack of intimate relationship - engineered
Rudeness, screams, fractured relationship - engineered
economic stagnation - engineered
Physical limitations - engineered

In the woke civilisation of the great Island
Psychopaths Social and structural Engineers march in Red
In raving anodyne tones the entitled ivories do the twist
Please ignore all the listed deliberate glaring omissions above
No! you see in deluded grandeur
Its time for the blame game, its time for the blame game
Its all the fault of the immigrant
who studied and worked to make a better life
especially that black successful one
with everything just going well for him
we didn't boat him on on the Windrush
He's not cleaning our roads or in the factory
He's not fetching and wiping **** in the Hospital
He's not even into crime and supplying our drugs
No! No! No!
He is a leech and  a parasite
He is responsible for our miserable uninspiring life
Comrades, join us, the Revolution is now

They say I suffer, I have pain
How can I, I wonder
when its  all your engineered and dramatized work
of which I am not in the least responsible!
And you know it!
Narcissists, Psychopaths, Depressives, Mentally challenged loonies
We give you your Revolution, please enjoy the spoils!!!
see what they are reduced to.....hahahaha   hahahaha.....hahahaha
all those who come from all the old colonies would be laughing too.
we know them too well.....
Emeka Mokeme Dec 2018
In this bizarre
world of confusion
and violence with
so much brokenness
and misunderstanding.
We must comprehend
the deeper order
of the principle
back of things,
hidden within the
fabric of our
daily lives
Understand that through
chaos comes order.
Without ruffledness
there wont be
any order in
the scheme of
things spiritual and
The unruffled things
brings stagnation
in nature.
Death of things
occur in nature
to usher in
a new sequence
and another chance
of a new beginning
to suit different
seasonal circle and
cross current
into another phase.
Light overrides darkness
and darkness turns
into light.
Continuity allows the
spiralling of negativity
to positive effects.
Error reminds the
heart to forgive
The night brings
closure of natural
order to usher in
the day light.
Both are working
in synergy to
bring desired balance.
Natural disaster comes
to cleanse and
reshuffle and recircle
all things good
and bad for
our edification.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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