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Syafie R Jan 15
MIB
Three Men in Black, cloaked in despair—

One fights the aliens that aren’t really there,
Their shapes distort, their voices deceive,
A battle unending, no chance to reprieve.

One hides his pain beneath the guise,
A silent scream behind his eyes.

One mourns the fallen, dressed in grief,
By graves that whisper no relief.

Three Men in Black, the same, the same,
Lost to shadows none can name.
Jeremy Betts Jan 10
Find me in the shadows
Cowering behind broken windows
Obsolete and useless
Like old Nintendos
Single celled amongst the minnows
Fear the stage, cancel shows
Tattered armor from the battles
When oh when
Will I get to chalk up my first win?
Who knows
I mean
Who knows?
Been trading blows
With good and evils
Gods and devil's
A perpetual looser revels
With a fat lip and broken nose
I lie about it so it still grows
As time slows
Behind a cold wind that blows
New highs
New lows
No,
Reoccurring lows
Kept on stepped on toes
A blade allows me to watch
Oxygen turn life from blue to red
As it flows
And drips off the edge
Of pointy elbows
Not caring where it goes
Never telling what it knows

©2025
We were born in the forest,
Living in the shadows,
Clinging to our loved ones
In the dark, under the trees.
Life was good then,
We had picked fruit from branches
And swung on them for joy.
And there was no greed
Or jealousy.
Over millions of years,
We lived in harmony,
Until the forest changed;
The garden shriveled and
Faded away as we watched.
Our lives were rearranged.
Some among us ventured out.
Giving in to our sin: curiosity.
We turned the grasslands
into pavement and stone
And we endured pain to walk
Down in the street, surrounded
by canyons of concrete and steel.
The powerful gather now
and hoard what was once shared.
Hors d’oeuvres are served,
Placating the hunger of the omnipotent,
that is never stated;
They will keep taking from us
As long as we allow it.
Even as they wallow in wealth,
They plot to plunder riches
and destroy the world,
scraping the land
and scouring the sea.
But one day, some loner, a rebel
May emerge from the shadows,
Dark-clad, filled with inchoate rage.
He will find like-minded souls
Who use the new machinations
To topple the oligarchs,
Empty their accounts
And give them to the world.
Chaos may follow,
But out of it a new humanity
Might arise.
A memory of what humans used to be, what horrible things they became and the hope that humans might decide to live as they once had, using progress to help each other.
TreeGoth Dec 2024
Full-moon light
Can create
Frightening and
Disturbing shadows that seem
To shape-shifting at a wim
As I walk the halls to get the bathroom
The full-moon exposes
The darkness of the corners
But yet the corners of our minds too
As I see these shape shifting
Shadows turn from evil
To horrific
I wish I stayed in my room
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
I promise you; I'm not depressed…
I'm more or less a mess – I guess.
At times, in my own mind, I feel like a guest;
Yet, at the helm – life puts me in charge,
Even as my social battery is often drained
I promise you; I'm not depressed…

I promise you; I'm not depressed…
These days, I don’t live anywhere close to
Lengthy dialogues, preferring to take social visits –
As each facet of my personality are merely masks,
Of this face's visages, as it constantly pivots
I promise you; I'm not depressed…

I promise you; I'm not depressed…
I don't trust most of my feelings – as
superior as they may seem, they fit the
narrative of playing the supervillain
Yearning to rekindle the wonder of my kid
self, though I often find myself kidding
I promise you; I'm not depressed…

It’s never good to admit that you’re depressed,
so, in a hidden depressive state – we don
the mask of joy, to fake its smile instead.

Valentin Eni Dec 2024
This sad poem was conceived and written in Burnley,
Where shadows linger, and the rain falls sternly.

An empty pub with an empty pint glass,
Black nights last long with its wild, bright eyes.

A one-eyed dog with lots of fleas
Sings the blues in seven different keys.

And time has flown since we met at sea,
A four-light-years-galactic-guilt is upon me.
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2024
Life's about the suffering
Peace a destination
What is more important
Is what happens duration

Impossible to self-pardon sins
Plagued with doubt and fear
What if darkness creeping within
Sronger than the light inhabiting here?

Worrying is not worth the toll
I have to pay my dues
No one can walk path for me
Don't wear the same size shoes

Each break and bruise instruction
Finish line forever unknown
Happy endings fantasy
Majority synthetic like silicon

It has to shift before we surrender
To assimilation of society
In-between consciouslessness
And controlled compliancy

After Point A wandered astray
Point B hopeless cause
Meandering sheep in a deluded daze
Progression practically on pause

Creativity and cerebration rare
Killed in each as a child
Brainwashed being obedient
Different labeled 'wild'

Those in power yearn to program every step
Shaping image to fit their mold
Corrupt agenda is nothing new
Most don't realize they are trapped in their hold

I want to lead uprising
But I simply am too afraid
Remember when surroundings were calmer
Present for past I desperately long to trade

We had plenty of time to correct behavior
There is an existing disconnect
From planet earth and each other
Too immersed in screens for paths to intersect

A thousand unanswered questions
In silence reality is revealed
Up to us to find purpose in this dimension
Stumbling blindly through this battlefield

We are closer to cliff than we realize
Inching towards edge each day passing by
Shadows halting vision with uncertainty
Wings clipped so we are unable to fly
About the way society is in relation to our government and just how we have been regressing and it's exactly what those in power want. Wake the **** up people, especially Americans!
Anais Vionet Nov 2024
(a poem in Haiku and Senryu)

Draw a stick figure
future - sadly diminished
and chaos ransomed.

Paint the landscape
with the sweltering glare
of global warming.

Add micro-plastic
and forever chemical
flavorings to taste.

Come share this
with me - let kisses heal and
soft whispers inflame.

Some locks need two keys
to open, some heavens can
be reached by mortals.
.
.
A song for this:
All Gone Away by The Style Council
Locks that require two keys are called ‘Dual Custody’ locks. They’re most common for bank deposit boxes.
Kian Nov 2024
In the quiet, slowly stirring,
Through the night, the dark alluring,
Came a breath, a soft recurring,
Like a sigh upon the air,

Through the woods, the shadows leaning,
Every thought within me gleaning,
Past regrets, now intervening,
Held me captive in despair,

In the stillness, something shifting,
Through the gloom, my fears were lifting,
As if fate, forever drifting,
Led me onward, unaware,

Neither sound nor sight deceiving,
But a sense, a deeper weaving,
Like a thread of truth, believing,
Guided me without a care,

Through the trees, a pathway glowing,
In the dark, a river flowing,
And my steps, now steady, showing,
That the night could not impair,

Yet the breeze, with whispers fleeting,
Told of days beyond our meeting,
Of a time when your heart's beating,
In a world that's bright and fair,

So I walked then, deeply grieving,
From the night, my doubts were leaving,
And the dawn, with light retrieving,
Showed me skies beyond compare,

In the east, the colors blending,
With the dawn, the night was ending,
And the sun, with rays ascending,
Promised hope within its glare,

Yet I knew, beneath this yearning,
As the light was slowly turning,
That the dark, forever churning,
Would return, its grip to share,

For the shadows, always creeping,
In the corners, ever sleeping,
Wait for moments, silent, keeping,
To reclaim what light can't bear,

So though morning breaks, still tender,
In my heart, I can't surrender,
For the night, in all its splendor,
Waits to catch me in its snare.
Valentin Eni Nov 2024
I feel
an angel’s touch, so soft, so near,
a mountain crumbles,
its roar I hear.

I see
the shadows carved by lightning’s glow,
the light of a seed
in the earth below.

I hear
the silence stretched across the years,
curses rising from the graves
through tears.

I believe
in the stain of a demon’s dark embrace,
in the power of words
to claim their space.

I know
who will bear the weight my cross demands,
why the world bleeds
through trembling hands.

I feel
the steps that lead me closer to my breath’s last bend,
the touch of an angel
before the end.

*

I Feel
(Alternative translation I)

I feel
an angel's touch upon my skin
I feel once more
a mountain crashing, tumbling in

I see
the shadows lightning leaves behind
I see anew
the light within a seed confined

I hear
the silences an age has kept
I hear again
the curses rising from the crypt

I trust
the foulness that a demon breeds
I trust still more
the power that resides in deeds

I know
who'll bear the cross that's meant for me
I know as well
why bleeds the heart of all we see

I feel
how many steps till death I tread
I feel once more
an angel's touch upon my head
(Originally written in Romanian.) The poem engages all the senses to convey a feeling of transcendence and existential struggle. The contrast between life and death, light and darkness, is a central motif.
This poem presents a journey of awareness, moving between sensory experiences and spiritual reflections. The angel at the beginning and end bookends the work with a spiritual framework, suggesting a reliance on faith amidst the chaotic contrasts of existence. The use of sensory verbs ("feel," "see," "hear") is immersive, pulling the reader into the speaker's evolving realization of mortality and existence.
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