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shannon Jan 2015
When we are born there are hopes and dreams,
On the path we follow, enemies are made,
Cruelty forced upon us, tearing at our seams
The existence of the world is enveloped in flames, fire and decay.

Everywhere we turn – a wasteland waves,
Isolated, ruined, desolate
Negativity runs deep, tagged metal in their waist bands
The urge to be free, unchained, untagged.

Meadows of green grass and daisies and yellow roses,
towering the shadows, no worries about,
Winter creeps; silently, swiftly, suavely. Now
an ocean of black roses remain in power.

Oh colourful canvas, how beautiful you used to be,
Now you’re smothered in the greyness of despair,
An intimidation of words aggressively written,
And the pain never ends

That desperate wish that someone could care!

This noose I tie is never tied tight enough,
The glistening light shivers a hope for eternal sleep
Such a shame the cut never succeeds
And an only friend has gone  

Facebook, MySpace, Twitter;
He made himself the target and ****** in,
He took their advice, took the bullet,
Their words are a complete and utter sin

My, my it was that hilarious! Honestly.
The world corrupt, no social networks,
What a laugh it was; all fits and giggles
The importance never occurred

We- the kids of this generation- know nothing
but how to navigate the internet
Them- the adults of the era- that want the best
ignorant to the life on the information highway

This world is changing,
This world is ending,
This society, will become my newest nightmare
This society, will become your newest warfare
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2015
Dumpsters rain on lots,
Seagulls fly over asphalt,
  .  .  .  Ocean food waiting.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
I have seen couples,
So far from each—
Other, on a platform,
Waiting for the next train,
Never touching, yet how
They ****** their mobile
Devices, how softly, sweet,
Without guile nor agenda
They swipe the glass—
As it swoons back in return
With blue lights and alerts,
So dearly needed and answers,
In way words for the machines
Of flesh and the ghost within,
With such personal aplomb
In real notifications of text
And instant message.
Victoria Johnson Nov 2014
You know I keep it caged,
Deep inside me.
I always did so well,
At keeping it quiet.
Nobody ever had to know,
About this monstrosity,
Right beneath the surface.

I keep my face straight.
Not a smile or a cry.
I'm constantly reminded,
To keep it well inside.
I always did so well too,
Till the night I lost control.

The monster from inside,
My own Pandora's box.
The monster's not inside,
Will never sleep again.
This monster on the inside,
Called emotion.
Ember Evanescent Oct 2014
So I'm writing a fiction novel

Cool, what's It about?

Well, it's set in a dystopian society.

So not very cheerful. Tell me about the society.

There are multiple different governments that disagree with each other, millions die everyday, people are tortured, some people are even killing themselves because of diseases of the mind, sometimes people hurt each other bad enough emotionally they traumatize them. People still judge each other based on things they can't change and your beliefs can get you killed. People shoot other people for no reason and there are always nuclear weapons pointed at each other. Crazy people and worse, some sane people ****** people remorselessly and so many people hate each other.

Sounds awful, what's it called?

Reality.
I know it's not really a poem but I'm upset right now.
Sam Miller May 2014
The sky is dark,
not pitch black but a deep
and dangerous blue.
Dark enough to hide the stars
but not enough to hide the clouds
looming above me.

My heavy boots thud
against the sidewalk
and they thud harder when
I walk against the howling wind.

I feel it blowing through my sweater
and chilling my bones as
bare-bones tree branches wave
above my head.

The darkness wind and chill
all point to the end times,
where green grass will never return
and the sun will never again
show its bright face.

Nights like this
are a spiritual experience.
The air speaks to me
in ways the sunlight never can.

I feel the apocalypse every time it storms.
Only death was left.
Death of creatures.
Death of bushes and flowers and trees.

Death coated the landscape like a blizzard.
Layer upon layer it continued to pile high.
They all tried to dig themselves out.
But soon it became so overwhelming  
that the very people who were digging,
were enveloped in its icy grip.

But even as death squeezes the land dry
there will come a day
when even death must die.
something I just threw together
Blurryface Apr 2014
Words clouded me
What was going on
The Earth fell and
Nothing was left
I was alone on the
Earth. It was dark
And gloomy like
Nothing I'd seen.
The trees were dead
And the rivers full of dried
Blood. The lone cloud
Was dark, the sun shone
But everything was dark.
Noises came from all
Around but I was alone.
The voices louder as I
Walked towards them
And all at once it was quiet
And it was clear.

-H.R.
This poem was more of my flowing thoughts, but when I reread it, it reminds me of the "Old Earth" or whats left of it at least. I was looking for it to be like this but i like it.
Connor Reid Apr 2014
A duality of elan vital, two people
Spectres of emotion
Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon
Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts
Helixes of snot, **** and lymph
Boy & girl
As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse
A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end
Always was, always is
Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips
Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic *****
Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential
Corpus Callosum
An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration
Theory of mind, looped & bound
I will water the thought
Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala
Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity
Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago
A neuron dipped in nylon
Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation
Ghosts in the machine, your macro god
The sympathies of fractional distillation
Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere
Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears
Commodified, sold out and bought
Stretching, from purple, white and black
slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape
brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic
Monetised flesh god
An eternity bathed in starlight
Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy
Divided dimensions of energy
Fleeting and intangible
No longer a delirium of seperation
All semantics become light
As a rusted vehicle passes overhead
And all the worlds questions fade out of existence
Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice
Sinew flayed, integrated towards information
Our minds shared
In circuits and resistors
Photons and electrons
We radiate

— The End —