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Bansi Adroja Oct 2018
Do you ever count the bad days
and wonder why
you let those hours pass you by

Why get out from under the covers
the comfort of memory foam
and the cold side of the pillow

Why sit in traffic
listening to those same over played songs
wanting to scream at the top of your lungs
at the changing lights

Why sit at a desk
with almost strangers
checking for the count down to lunch
or any type of break
from the relentless machine
of the everyday

Why not pack up and leave
move to a place where you count
do something that matters
without a six am alarm
but that's just another thought
to pass the day
A Poem a Day
Mona Aug 2018
Beautiful Woman

You met, and you were all woman
****, radiant and intriguing
He was ok and pushed the right buttons
You married him hoping for a forever

He filled you with children
They invaded your body and life
He stepped back wondering who you are
You tried harder to maintain your past

You both filled the void with logistics
Your bed is lukewarm at best
Time is a friend to no one
You lost your woman along the way

He got busy running through life
Slowly, fast you withered away
No shine or lustre left on your skin
You want to know where he’s been

Take a dive into yourself again
Remember how great you really are
Be defined by what makes you happy
The world will follow you, it always has

Find your woman and bring her out
You are more than a wife, a mother or whatever
Let the world see your bright light
Face their darkness and shout out loud

“I am a beautiful woman.”
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
Life is a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
Until the needle is lifted
and moved somewhere new
Jesse Sutherland Aug 2018
Like a puppet without strings
I lay there motionless
Drinking in the seething pool of
Nothing that surrounds me like
The caged dog that I am
Dehydrated of motivation
Deprived of any real semblance
That I am actually alive
Outside of this heartbeat
That is a ticking time bomb
Destined to go off before
I find any sort of lasting solace
Trapped in a box of possibilities
Dreams that are never meant to come true
Ashes in my mind of the lies I was told
About how I could do what I wanted
And instead my smile is stapled on
With the capricious optimism
That dies every single time
I open my eyes.
MicMag Aug 2018
Life as poetry
Poetry as life:

A slow steady grind
Working stubbornly
Against monotony
And seizing
Those fleeting
Sparks of inspiration
Taking their wild ride
Wherever they lead
As the momentum
Carries us through
When we're back to the grind
Writing of all forms is a blend of hard work and inspiration. When creativity strikes it leads us forward in bursts but the craft is honed even more in the absence of such inspiration.

Life is pretty much the same, wouldn't you say?
L Jul 2018
Robots and gods.

Is this madness?
It must be.

On one hand, the robot feels.
The robot knows what it wants, takes it.
But has difficulty feeling what other people are feeling.

On the other hand, the god watches.
The god orchestrates and plans things to go its way.
But feels as though it doesnt have control over itself.

It manipulates and prods.
It is calculated.
It is watching.
It is observant.
It is careful, caring and emotionless.
Yet full of it. And still yet unexpressive. Full of life. Trapped in their vessels; their roles.

What am i?
Trippin.
Joel Mathew Jul 2018
I’m not thinking to myself.
I’m aware of your presence,
Just as you are aware of mine
A soul trapped in a room,
With white walls and neon green stripes

My soul is stuck in here for eternity,
Waiting to be freed,
From a curse that riddles it.
The curse brought upon me,
By my sin

Sound of a low hum, I’m aware of it now.
So accustomed to it, I forgot it existed.
I take a step towards a wall,
It recedes one, the gap remains.
I’m overcome by this feeling, I’m just aware of.

Hey, you, the one reading this,
Can you make it stop?
This feeling, it’s unpleasant.
I close my eyes hoping for it to end.
Nothing changes, I still see neon stripes.

This wall’s all I can see.
This low hum, all I can hear.
Make it stop. It’s driving me crazy.
It’s amplifying this feeling within.
… He called this my penance.

Aimlessly, I try to run.
I need to feel a sense of change.
This monotonous scene, I wished for it to change,
And it did. I stumbled upon it.
How I wish I hadn’t.

I knew it was here all along, I’m conscious of it now.
Maybe I was so accustomed to it I forgot.
Or maybe it was so painful I chose to forget.
Either way, desperate to change this monotony,
I opened the bag.




A hunch now confirmed - this bag belongs to him.
I know I shouldn’t unravel, the secrets held in it.
But I’m desperate, to change this monotony.
Not like I care anymore…
And so, I opened the door to endless suffering.

It’s coming back, the memory of my sin.
That monotonous feeling gone, but it hurts,
Pain surging through my body, beautiful pain!
I remember what I did to him, I regret everything.
But it still feels like, I’m forgetting something.

It courses through my veins, ripping my mind apart.
The striped walls distort into billowing waves.
My bones shatter, blood oozes out of every orifice
Ecstasy! Masking pain with pain
For one brief moment, my mind was at ease

Soon seven silhouettes, surface above Styx
Ira, Invidia, Avaritia, Superbia,
Acedia, Gula and Luxuria
Surround me. Taking still silent steps towards
When just a step away, they morph into one entity – Him

“I’m sorry” “It’s too late now”
My features wince in pain. Pain,
Quaking through my body, wrecking all my states
Desperate to find comfort I believe
This retribution is my redemption.

His contemptuous glare stares right through me
He wasn’t satisfied. A smile creeps up his face.
“You forgot again” He slid something into my pocket
“This’ll help you remember again” And he disappeared
Into the bright darkness

I rise back to my stature
Tears dripping down “I’m sorry”
My sins hurt him; all I can do is regret
I can’t rewrite what I scrawled
Into the indelible sheets of time




I reach into my pocket and pull it out,
A picture of him crying. All the pieces fall into place
This feeling of tranquillity in this moment of realisation
This silence before the storm, lasts until I process everything
I was looking into a mirror

My heart sinks into chaos
My mind finds order
Pain so unimaginable
Pain so… painful
Stop this…

You, reading this,
Make it stop, please
It’s hurting. I can’t bear it anymore
Please help me…
Tell him to stop.

Well, whatever. I don’t care anymore.

Heh, the pain’s fading away already
I’m forgetting again
Trapped, in an endless cycle of time
I’m forgetting everything
Forgetting only to remember again

Acceptance, the last stage of this cycle
I’ve sinned against myself
He’s punishing me for this
I plunge into the tender hands of oblivion
Only to relive this torture when she lets go

I’m a paradox
A nonexistent entity
A human bound to a monster
A soul free of dimensions
Caged in a cube

I’m aware of you
Just as you are aware of me
A soul living by the chasm of insanity
Falling in and getting dragged back
Staying out and getting ****** in
This sure brings back memories! I remember writing this when I was 14. My life was slowing down. Soon enough I realised it had stopped. There wasn't anything new to do. Just the same old monotonous routine. To break that monotony I delved into a past I'd left behind. I ended up getting hurt, but it was fun! I wanted to express the way I felt and that's when I realised I could write poems. This is my first poem. I'm going to write more poems whenever I feel something I don't want to forget. I'm still just a beginner. I'm looking forward to your feedback to help me evolve into a better poet : )
nance Jun 2018
002
we all have faith in stop signs,
with their red skin
glaring out of the monotony.

knowing,
hoping,
willing the car to stop
at the command of the silent
octagon.
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