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Ken Pepiton Oct 2024
Any alienation possible on Earth,
is speculative, at best.

Chances are we are all bits.
Relativity, given a will to make sense,
at one stage the subtle hiss says we are

one mind, can not make sense of another,
all is mine, my mind, I run the decision tree,
intuited in code, init
from one seed,
proceed consideration,
ah, wait, seeds from nothing,
Chicken and egg sequencing, in mind,

rightly dividing, soul and spirit, will and way,
who can say,
we think, we live, with no forethought,
no plan to become, yet, then
now, jetzt wir sind, denken.

Nada mas. The upright walking man,
is unstable in all its ways, wombed and un.

Which leads to why we walk with toes
pointing everything thing in us to home.
Superior problem solving creative mind form filler, fix the pinball balance switch it continually flashes tilt... or is this a gamble, can we win... more than we invest... like a ***, satisfied with plenty?
ZACK GRAM Sep 2024
Ill Write A Poem
ON
ALL FRONT PAGE...
you erase me
Z-Pac Ban Em All
No Threat
MY PAGE DONT LOAD
***
CANT BAN ME
*******
NEW POEM
FREEDOM OF SPEECH
Noone Safe
Lydia Aug 2024
I’m angry
At everything and myself
I don’t wanna do this **** anymore
This being anything and everything that is involved with being alive
It’s too hard and I give up
I’ve watched so many people just skate by
I continue to watch people do nothing
And have everything
While I do everything
And have nothing
I am bitter
I am hurt
I am mad that no one was there for me
That no one can take care of me
Besides me
I am outraged at my upbringing
Because it’s led me here
It’s brought me over five years of therapy
Countless tears
A level of pain to parenting
And
I’ve lost so much time
Time spent in agony just because I’m alive
So yeah
I’m ******* angry
And trying to be more mindful
Isn’t going to help today
Jeremy Betts Aug 2024
Casper
That's the name they gave me
The intentions weren't friendly
They used it mockingly
Albeit creatively
Because my skin was alabaster pasty,
I was Jack Skelington skinny
And, apparently,
My blond hair and blue eyes weren't manly
So then,
I embraced it and turned it on them ceremoniously
No more Casper the Friendly,
Just Casper the Deadly
Turned to the ghost that gave nightmares to Freddy
Made the devil look heavenly
That persona went at any and every enemy
But now that I'm 40
I've let that part of me leave me
Though it was the only part of me that believed in me
The scratched up side of my flipped penny
...I miss is secretly...

©2024
Eyithen May 2024
I'm mad at God
I've never been mad at him before
Always understanding and patient
I never questioned the purpose of the pain

The purpose of pain
I'm sure there is one
but I am tired
It is the same thing and I find myself trapped in a cycle of insanity
What is the purpose? What is the lesson? What am I missing?

I'm mad at God
Maybe mad is the wrong word
Frustrated. Hurt. Exhausted. Angry.
But not mad.
Its not so much a place of casting blame
but rather "what do you want from me!?"

How much longer will I have to endure?
How much longer will I have to cry out?
When will I see an answer?
You don't play mind games
and yet I am currently unconvinced of this

Unconvinced I have received any sort of healing
only led to believe so
"I don't know" has been a phrase I've said the most

So yes perhaps I am mad at God.
I don't know what else to feel when one is falling apart, even if they are falling into place.
The pain is still the same.
Atta Apr 2024
i cherised ourselves in silence breeze
at every corner of crowd we've cultured together
and on every personalities i've dictaded
i've grown my trees on you

yet you put an end to my tree

i should had known you're my lumberjack behind me
brought axe sharpened behind my corner
you'd warmed me by the fireplace
branches by branches

from the trees i've nurtured on you

at least i still get warmth for a second
a milli if i could tell
at least i still get warmth

and i asked
and i asked you
for once
you said
you put effort on your tree
you cared too much for me
you've watered it down
with sweet sweat with sour tears
for me

but i still smell me on your fire
mahogany vanilla, fresh autumn
orangish purple, i could visioned

and i asked
and i asked you
million times
all you said was
it was your tree
your ******* tree
your tree that you couldn't named of
what was the wood what was the fruit
what was it? you didn't know
lame

i extinguished flame you engulfed
that only affected on us
your option was go and go away
some i couldnt choose
i let myself stranded in your tiny little miniature
of towns you've built over my anxiety
by words youve trashed down
on my feelings
if i stay, i'd soaked my soil with my ***** tempest
if i go, i 'd walked on invisible string gagged and blindfolded

i choose to stay
growing trees on anger
i bow down
if i stand up
i could see all direction
and i could see you watering down
your tree on your person
such a gardener you are
I don't believe you when you say
that your hands are tied.

I don't believe you when you say
that your hands don't have holes in them.

That the sand doesn't slowly pour out through the cracks between your fingers.

...

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯...

when you asked me
to hand you my soul,

that the depths of its love,
your hands, 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱.

...

▪︎ mica light ▪︎
neth jones Jan 2024
clue time   game of bluff-man blind   fuss of obstacles scold up my mind -(the-vermin-are-quite-rife) / portrait, ambitious portrait   racing a train - broadsword toward - a fertile pocket of prissy death ;/ crown, fist and sprawl in the court of The Charmers   sole hissy-fit upon your knees
had the song This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us by Sparks stuck in my head when i wrote this and two other shorts
neth jones Dec 2023
(who blew the bulb ?) everywhere is bright    ever­ything is eyes   can't see you    in your mirror-mail-shard suit    i'm blinded  /  bladed  /  paraded to the roots / hear this chime ? /  this overwhelming chime / it's in all the things but    has predatory gut / it’s not vital  /  it’s hurt  /  spumming out allure    evident byproduct    you've stuffed it all down    clutted all the drains    of your fawning audience   burning hair   compounded the body    with capillary blain  / majesty,   your maj-jest-tea ;   it’s dishonesty ; you are what you are but you don't want to be-(you're not pleased) get you down from there sire ( if-you-please )  and grow an honest hovel / everything’s on discount    mo­ther-******* discount    it's a travesty    you are a misery (dismount) you were far from what you harm    now you keep it close    you snake just like a charmer / you slither you basket  you rascal  piping lewd at the tourist youths / such a hassle / bring on photography   the *******    it's embarrassing   it’s emm-bhar-rass-sing     (who blew the bulb ?)
Was listening to Deceptacon by Le Tigre when I started this one

[[and you'll have me for your tourist night to filthen you foreign /reign of the ***** fun / funding me to make you my ashtray / ****** final / biohazard bag / you haggard rag]]
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