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SomaSonata Aug 2020
Knocking on your door
But no one's home today
I brought a cake and iced champagne
It was supposed to be a special occasion
I call and get no answer
I get no explanation
I'm just standing here by myself
But I guess that's how it goes
So, oh well
Songbirds
Lovebirds
What difference does it make?
It's all a dance to be danced
The end result is the same
Everything that happens winds up in the grave
Still wide awake at 2
My palms sweat in a motel room
See you again?
Maybe the next time
Maybe someday soon
SomaSonata Aug 2020
Action is meaningless without meaning
Meaning is meaningless without action
Off you go...
The cycle of life seems never-ending,
Is it just a matter of life and death?
Or is it much beyond that?
Things that often seem out of control,
With you playing just like a pawn in the game.
All you can focus on is your actions,
And nothing else.
You can let your actions define your destiny,
even though it might not turn out to be that easy.
The more you try to control it,
The more it seems far away.
To die freely, you must live within means
Although we have different perceptions of the word,
The feeling seems deserted.
There is freedom in solitude,
People move away with eyes averted.
A free bird but with weighted consequences of his actions. No decision goes unaffected. Karmic destiny awaits.
Tetra Hachiko Jul 2019
The girl with many faces
While trying to embrace it
Took an unexpected turn
Looking for more to learn
Rough roads ahead
Even with the meds
Swerving left and right
Speeding into the night
A crash has yet to come
But the night is young
She tenses for the impact
Prepared she is to react
The hardest part is the time
It takes for events to unwind
Into something less abstract
But now the damage is contract
Farhan Ahmed Jan 2019
Why are we in a hurry?
and there is so much to worry...
When everything has already been there
And we just live it through
About the choices we care
About the moments of me and you

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much to bother
When the book was published long ago
And we just read it through
About the different chapters
About the ends and beginnings like the pages are new

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much to achieve
When the doubt is you believe
And we just cry it through
About the facts and decisions
About the lies and what is true

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much at stake
When the dark nights are awake
And we just count it through
About the minutes and seconds
Hack the system of life just to pretend
Running out of time?
pri Sep 2018
i have not written since my last disaster.
the hopelessness, and the empty,
they were horrible feelings, but they held a beauty not worth having.

today, i worry. because tomorrow, the world demands results.
today, i worry. because so many people have told me so many things.
today, i worry. because so many people want me to join their laughter.
today, i worry. because no one knows what i’m doing.

the sun came back -did you know?
however, it is so much easier to study in the rain. i feel the need for my life,
when in reality my life should be tomorrow -because the world demands results.
because those results i also demand of myself.

yet, my heart, ever persistent, collides.
it whispers to me -can you believe it? she knows about that?
and it tells me -you can’t miss these things.
even though i can’t solve these things, they won’t let me rest until they’re solved.

but the world demands results. it wants a girl with a voice,
a girl who can turn circles and spheres and make something out of what she’s been given.
most importantly, it demands a girl who can solve any problem,
reason out every thought for hours. those are results.

and day after day, i change from i to she. because i am me. and i’m also she.
she, who can be the girl the world demands.

she has no time for this, she knows. her whole life is results.
as it should be. and when she’s done, she rests her shoulder against her bed.
and once, long ago, used to wonder who found her beautiful.
once, used to dismiss that feeling.

now, she carries it. each time the world demands, she gives.
she gives everything for results, and everything else for those people.
expect one thing. one, who she can’t see. one has held her hand twice,
one who makes dreams with her.

one, who she makes dreams with. because when the world is done demanding,
she’ll send her letters in the form of keys,
and think about what they’ll become.
she rests her back against her bed, and wonders what it would be like if she was sitting next to her.
holding her hand under the moonlight and holding her in heart as she allowed the day to seep out of her.
I believe that every conscious being travels this road
Where nothing is completely given or reached
Where everything completely stop but never goes
This road diverged into either the left path or right
plagued with the  decision of making a choice
The pressure of that inner voice
Speaking to you
of the consequences of each action
the good never out weigh  the bad
The consequences never worth the results
The action of always sacrificing something in terms of ganging
It is the  road that you cannot venture away
No matter where you turn
you always end up returning
this road is one who tampers with your mental capacity
Your morality
Your happiness
Your individuality
It happened too those before
and will to those after me
what a progressional tragedy
İlayda Korkmaz Apr 2018
I hate results,
Consequences are better...
Studies are fun,
When the findings don't matter...

For consequences postpone finalization,
And keep the story unfolding...
When research continues,
Things to be learned become never-ending...

Progress is birthed by process,
That's why it's the journey that counts...
Rigid conclusions are dead ends,
Cages which nothing new surmounts...

The happenings on the way,
Outweigh the destination...
Everybody remembers what took place during the holiday,
But not the moment one reenters their houses after a vacation...

When one disregards the ways things come to be,
It's frighteningly easy to become careless...
One might stop fighting for what's right,
And doing things properly becomes meaningless...

It also keeps (s)he who overlooks from enjoying the little things,
From appreciating dainty flowers and enjoying the fiery waves...
It makes one numb, and that is the worst of all,
For nothing alse matters but the moments and companions before we reach our graves...

When we die, then we die,
Nothing more is to come...
Death is the most empty part of our lives (if it is indeed a part of it)
So really it is none of our concern to consider life's outcome...

We should try to live for the moment and the moments after,
Just make sure it's not death for which we strive...
So let us not live for death,
But rather for life...
I refused to use periods in this poem because they end sentences and that's againt the entire point of the poem
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