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Kaitlin Collide Nov 2013
My mind is expanding,
But these grades are demanding.
Though my ways stand out
My GPA is not outstanding.

What good is knowledge,
If you can’t prove it on paper?
I WANT TO SEE THE WORLD!!!
But getting good grades is safer.

So I must be productive,
My right to dream has been abducted,
I once considered reflective struggles constructive,
But marginal quotas interrupt it

I’m feeling inspired,
My drive is now fired!
Oh but I can’t attend to that now..
Because I can’t study when I’m tired.

So I put it off,
Dreams are lost,
Robot mode on,
in a society of full of
scholarly knock-offs.

"Serendipity does not exist,"
"You’re choosing to fail if you’re choosing to live,"
"Why live creatively if you can puff, click or sip?"
I’m in an abusive relationship with my To-Do list

Don’t lose track,
Don’t look back,
Because time is money
And honey,
society will tell you how you spend it.
If you just let it.
I know it's not perfect but I needed to purge some thoughts for a sec while I was studying.
eeriewisdom Oct 2015
few things can calm me - the wrawl in the rain
chasse on the glasses, soirée on the pane
atoms of home - blood & bone - body's wane (and they're)
falling in ribbons of pewter so plain

fog laying softly, the wafting unterse
soundlessly haunting the grounds by its curse
ripples on crystalline mirrors disperse (in the)
capable hands of the watersong verse

nubes - replace the azure with the grey
bouncing the pavement with vestige of play
spirit in footfall, the speckled ballet (for the)
ruse to confuse sprightly night with the day

few things can calm me - the wrawl in the rain
please, weeping clouds, keep the crazy ones sane!
and as you slow down, i'll pray you regain (all your)
previous sorrow so we'll feel the same
Lukoje Sep 2015
Saturation,
no space left in my mind.
So many questions and
so much emotion
that I can't think.
All the things that I used to
see as simple tasks or
thoughts won't link.
No coherence
in my brain. Juxtaposition,
of ideas leads my actions
to dissonance.
Enjambment in
every movement that I make.
Trevor Blevins Jul 2015
There's a conflict of interest
And it's conflicting with perfection
And reason.

Distance would make this
All too simple a decision,
If it were a matter of choice,
But it isn't.

It's a matter of my split
Affection.
It's a game of amazing chance
And weighing out lonely nights
Against the opportunities to luck out.

There are outcomes that I
Can only dream about.

There are bigger aspects of life
That might as well
Not even exist,
As I am blind and ignorant.

There's a case to be made
For experience, I'm sure
But I, surely,
Am in no shape
To make it.

Carry me out
Of this hellhole.
Take me
To your side of heaven
Where life is long
And beauty is so much more
Than skin deep.

You understand me,
And you comprehend life
On my wavelength.
You can crawl under the surface
And tear out the wires
And you can make the clock
No longer tick.

I'll never doubt you.

We're cut from the same cloth
Only your strands
Were probably more expensive.

I'll wait outside
Of your side of heaven
Because admission
From this distance
Is ridiculous.

There's no reason to try.
vaishax May 2015
Strolling in these crowded streets
Wandering through memories
The tune of love within
Subdues all those without

Angst filled void around
Unmindful pain – baffling and novel
See that familiar face around – no surprise
People are but objects reflecting the mind

Unbeknownst – love struck me
And now I am clearly unsure
What joy, what pain – what more?
They say its fatal – but its poetry obscure.

The emotional dissonance – is that right?
A void that is tediously strong
How do I speak my mind – confess the love
I fear end would win me over, before long.

Gap – the gap – this gap between…
Would cocoon worlds' entirety
The gap between the lips, longer still
If sealed, once sealed – chime unity

I could sing ballads of love
But I am a lifetime shy to be a poet
I speak my plight in vain hope
Of being one – with you, just for a moment

Virtues will be restored
And boons have been bestowed
If the night unfolds with you beside me,
- My man of gold
http://vaishax.blogspot.in/
Unknown Apr 2015
This is the hanging thread
A long string of
Unspoken words
The rope that at one end
Holds down hearts
And at another
Coils around your
Wrist

Perhaps you weren't awake
During the moonlight hours
Looming reflections of today
Glass to my feet

This is the part
Where I write all the emotions down
And outwardly spew blame
Towards the victim of my insecurities
Whom I see as their
Beginning

I
Me
My
We?

I came home today with
A basket of metaphorical flowers
Chrysanthemums and Roses
All the pretty colors of fake
Yet you saw only the thorns
Of our punctured reality

In bleeding hands is the trust
Heart, soul and mind
As well as
Blood-borne illness

All items are
Brittle, apt to break
Yet I bloodied these fingertips
You did not
Toil

You only whisper to me anymore
Still cannot conceal the scent
Of displeasure
Taste
Of bile

Here are the musings
I have failed to intone even softly
Under my breath
For you fail to listen
While you are
*Awake
MST Sep 2014
Dissonance is when you are met with a contradiction.
You go through life with no qualms,
eating everyday the preservatives you love,
forgetting the places where we just dropped bombs,
dropped upon children; as if gods from above.
Men and women are murdered every day,
but we have the power to keep that at bay,
with our expertise in the art of ******,
your country is our flock and we are the herder.
But every few days or so,
a report will come up on T.V.,
how the problem will grow,
but not to worry, it will never effect me.
So I live my life with my T.V. shows,
going to parties and drinking too much,
not thinking of the children who made my clothes,
and how my comfort is due to their touch.
Until one day a new report is up,
how the war has not worked and people are dying,
the reporter doesn't bat an eye during his close up,
when they show the children crying.
Dissonance appears in my heart,
my head, my body and my soul.

"How can I be so happy and free?
with someone living so below me.
I should help, I should fight,
show those heathens what is right.
Let the world know that this is wrong,
maybe I'll even write a song."

Then my brain recognizes its bounds,
settles down and grabs a coke,
I'll just do a few more rounds,
of sitting and telling a joke.
That makes it easier for me,
to laugh instead of aid,
for I know they are not free,
but soon their voices will fade,
and I can comfortably forget their plea.
Jon Shierling Sep 2014
Premises:
1. Identity (or virtue if one wants to be an old-fashioned stoic) takes primacy in questions of morality and judgment. Concept is highlighted by Boethius in The Consolation of Philosophy, ca 534. "She (Lady Philosophy) contends that happiness comes from within, and that one's virtue is all that one truly has, because it is not imperiled by the vicissitudes of fortune."

2. If this supposition is true, then it stands to reason that, as the struggle for identity has been one of the overriding conflicts in my life, all decisions made must be deferred to my own concept of right and wrong.

3. Why? Because to compromise one's beliefs is to compromise one's self. In doing so, one betrays that which defines them.

Problems which arise as a result of this perspective:
1. Openness to new experience and ideas is somewhat curtailed.
2. Tendency to stagnate.
3. Conflict with other pillars which make up my belief system, namely radical acceptance of loved ones.

In other words, I hold my identity to be the one inviolate thing that no one can take away from me. However, I've had to fight tooth and nail to figure that out, therefore I'm extremely reactive to perceived threats to my belief system. Source of Cognitive Dissonance > trying to reconcile absolute judgments on good vs. bad with acceptance.
I know this isn't art in any way, shape or form, but I've got to put this down in some sort of logical form.
20something Jul 2014
I march to the beat of my own drum, but I have no rhythm.
The path diverges in two ways and I choose the third.
My head is a labyrinth from which escape is fruitless.
Please believe me when I tell you that my heart holds more dark corners than most because the sun just doesn't shine as bright as it used to over here.
And it's not often that the gates come down long enough to let others in,
so welcome to the road not traveled.
Now the moon has become my guiding light to eventual freedom,
escorting me through the shadows of the past.
I need your fingers locked with mine as I share the secrets buried so far back I almost forgot where I put them.
You gave me this and more
or so I thought
because now...
Now I worry that the corners are too black and your eyes don't adjust well in the dark
and you too are lost in the labyrinth with little hope for return.
The road worn and beaten by footprints is the one you choose to journey on,
for my path has too many thorns and poisonous plants that choke whoever dares attempt passage.
And as you fade into the distance,
I can tell that my cacophony of percussion will never allow me
to be able to match the melody
of the soft, steady pulsation that emanates from your very core  
but you knew that all along,
didn't you?
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