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False Poets Feb 2018
complexity bias

how you love to criticize my poems
as too long and overly complex

poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting
unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the
intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews

Writing is a **** temptation -
we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90%

perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones
put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking
word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring -

give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is
easily digested and there are no consequences

I am a member of a discriminated-against minority
we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say
hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of
our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied

25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white,
my occupation is playing video games and making sure
my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States
where I was born

there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives
a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts
any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in
my future

this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy,
ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about,
on your way out, of course, of course,
we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden

my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way,
order slowly declines into disorder

my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the
the Herzog continuums
and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my
going, gone under

so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the
requisite taxing authority

you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions

resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length

compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go,
perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
Rozey Mar 2019
You cannot deny your true feelings
Nor can you hide your true thoughts
One way or another it will show
And you won't even realize

The truth cannot be hidden.
I decided to enter an anonymous poem in my college's poem contest where anyone was allowed to enter a poem about encouragement. I entered my haiku "Beauty."
There's this girl constantly putting me down and telling me my writing is horrible. She has always disliked me for whatever reason she chooses.
So, after I entered this contest, I figure out she was on the panel out of three judges and turns out she was the first one to pick my poem out of the bunch.

How the truth comes out! She likes my poetry and my writing, she just refuses to show me support for the sole reason she has a bias. But she likes my poetry!
bymslu Feb 2019
thanks to the basketful of maybe's
i collected
when we were one
it would seem
i'd be well equipped to deal
with the next one's indecisiveness

oh well.
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
Acting like an accident waiting to happen.
They unprotected me and left me for dead while I was napping.
Torchered by their lies.
I can see through their hip disguise.

Again they act like the lying cheats they are.
It is to bad they have beaten up old car.
Trying to help them act to torcher.
In the heat another scorcher.

For ***, lies, and video tape.
They can go on “Gilbert’s” grape.
My neighbors lie and so they act self righteous.
Then they then act to destroy my life with no bias.

No one will help.
I am here alone with the enemy about to melt.
That is all I can say.
Maybe one day they will pay!
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
Many are hamster-wheel humans
So punch-drunk from assuming
They know the way things work.
The wealthy urged them to elect jerks
To run this country into the ground
And turn it into the worst place around.
It’s a sad tale, a ***** of a story
Where those with guts, don’t get glory.

It’s a horror story, like in scary flicks
Where when men in suits get their kicks
Imprisoning brown people and kids
And laughing about the bad they did.
Afterward, they say others are to blame
But make no attempt to hide their game.
They put thousands in jail and charge them
And sing out loud their lying anthems.

They say fake news is the real McCoy
But, the real news they say is a ploy
Honest people want to stop the plunder
That, up ’til now, they kept hidden under.
But now it’s in the open meant to appease
Ignorant white people that are hard to please.
They want whites in power, think that’s nifty,
No wonder they elect only those who are shifty.

Too many quit learning in school, after ABC,
And they have no use for the land of the free.
They liked how it was in eighteen hundreds
With slaves, inhumanity to those they plundered.
They got up in arms when a black man won
And the class war was once again begun.
The very rich told lies to change the rules
People began to act openly like rapacious fools.
This is the country of which we were once proud.
It’s right now being destroyed by the elite crowd.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
If it is true
We never have to question
If we question
We are in doubt
If we are in doubt
We may be right
If we all are right
Who is wrong?

Question more
Repeat the same

Till we find,
Ourselves wrong
Ourselves right

All the time
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Questioning Truth
veritas Jul 2018
oh sweet moon-milk of mine
soft crescent (swift faded
honey-pink curling  now
lie down.
oh blushing beautiful lovely
boy-doll waning cheeks
feed up, love.
caressed smooth marble skin
slow down
luna lit cherubic boy of mine
perfect cupid arrow
shot.
i literally wrote this for jimin so uh yeah...
Acina Joy Jul 2018
//


Sometimes, there is an inner darkness that speaks too close to our hearts. Tempting us. Making us yield.

I know it is bad to bow down to these baser motives. These seductions that occur in the darkness of our beings. But, this all depends on us.

To decide whether or not to fall victim to its height of bliss, or to eventually fall to our knees once these illusions are over. It is my decision whether or not to fulfill this growing void.

My only question is, who would always be foolish to believe that darkness is a monstrous path, rather than a human delusion?


//
Pretty biased on this one, but all I wanted to express was that darkness was something that existed long within man, rather than achieved. I believe it is innate, but not always acted upon. It only needs a push and a nudge to click off the safety pull the trigger. That action in itself is hard to decide, but easy to do, just as evenly as darkness and light.
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