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Leila Oct 2024
It's just me and my pretty shadow...in my own little universe that I escape...
Drawing lines of my own...
Laughing endlessly...
My pretty shadow I write letters to...
I be with...in the other universe that we hug...
Love it through the darkness...
When it's night...and the sun fades till dawn...
You spark away...
And I meet you again in my dreams...where again it's always us...only us... drawing lines of our own...in another oh so parallel universe...
My pretty shadow...
~leila
Bekah Halle Jan 2024
From the alarm to Instagram, FB, TikTok and beyond…

The external world is screaming:
Watch me! Follow me! I’ll show you where you belong!
We’ve been led, by the piper, into 'other' consciousness,
Happily, we submit to its authority
Because this world is too much.

We stuff every gap, every silence with ******-fanatic thoughts, slap!
Running further from our true selves
How did we get swallowed in this chasm of chants;
That said we are not enough?

It’s time to do something revolutionary!
It’s time to sit in silence;
Befriend the bewildering quietness,
And accept with loving kindness.
Anais Vionet Dec 2023
It’s Friday afternoon. Anna, Lisa, Leong and I are sitting around our common room - sagging actually - after a long day.
“I need a break,” I said, “now’s the time - today, this day -  it's been a long week.”  “Document,” Leong affirmed.
“Sometimes you gotta..” Anna faded out letting an arm flop like a dead soldier.
“Let’s go OUT to dinner somewhere,” I said, “my treat.”
“We can eat for free here,” Leong said.
“We might have to economize someday,” I said, a little annoyed, “but it won’t be today.”
“Can you believe we just came back less than a week ago?” Lisa asked.
“I can’t,” Leong said.
“It’s shocking,” Anna sighed, winding a ring of her auburn hair around her index finger.
“I’ve lived many lives since then,” I admitted.
“On Wednesday,” Leong began, “I was like, I feel like I’ve been here for weeks.”

“It’s coming up on time to leave!” Anna exclaimed.
“And leave for a WHILE,” Lisa undogged.
“I’m VERY excited to leave for a while,” Leong laughed.
“It’s going to happen,” I said, like a prayer.
“Then we can come back and be like, I’m glad to be here” Lisa said
“After you’ve been gone for a while, you DO miss it.” Anna admitted, shrugging.

A hot moment later, I asked Lisa, “Should I use this for a poetry pic?” Turning my iPad in her direction, “Yeah,” she says laughing. “My hair looks like I’m coming out of a cocoon.” I added.
“You know when you don’t have enough pictures for an Instagram post?” Lisa asked, looking critically through the pics we took last night. “Look,” she says, sharing them up to our 55” TV.

After a few, I said, “Lisa and I were talking about this yesterday,” turning to Anna and Leong, a little exasperated, “Lisa, has all of these pics of me with my underwear and it’s like..”
“Wait!,” Lisa gasped, NOT on purpose! That makes it sound.. don’t SAY THAT like THAT,” she laughs.
“And it’s just like.. you don’t need to share those,” I laugh, waving my arms.
“You’re making me sound like a *******..” Lisa snickered.
“I’m not a baby!” I hooted.

“They're not at ALL ******,” Anna noted.
“I’m not saying THAT,” I winced.
“When we're drunk, at home, snapping pix and we’re wearing these little dresses..” Lisa begins, “it’s not like I’m taking pictures of your underwear” she stammers laughingly.
“There are angles and there are angles where you see!” I point at the example on the screen.  
“We were drunk!“ Lisa said, “I wasn’t trying.. YOU were drunk too!” She said, counteroffensively.
“But you were CrAzY,” I laughed.
“Crazy,” Lisa laughed, “Yeah, anyways - why’d you have to say that? You took similar pics.” Lisa added, smiling knowingly.

“No one gets to see them,” Leong said, she’s new to Instagram and Lisa is usually her mentor.
“They do if they’re public,” I noted, pointing to the little icon.
“Shut up!” Lisa snapped, “I EDIT them before I post them - blur things or whatever!”
“Ok, I said, “We don’t need to do this now.. you brought pix up.” I held up my hands in surrender.
“Jesus Christ, merzy, murble flurble,” Lisa muttered, her voice fading out into incoherence.

“But If you wait, save the good picture for a dump - then, it’s too far away to post.” Leong said.
“Well, that’s not true, I don’t believe that.” Anna chirped in, “a cool pic is always welcome.”
“I don’t like dumps,” I said, “I don’t want to scroll through a ton of someone’s pix, it’s tiring.”
“If you’ve A cool pic or even one kind of cool pic, then everyone knows what’s up, Anna offered.
“Ethos 2024,” I pronounced.
“Post whatever,” Lisa updogged, as I dabbed my lips with lip gloss.
“Can I borrow your lip gloss?” Lisa asked me, rubbing her chapped lips.
“Sure,” I said, handing it over. Yeah, we argue like sisters but friendship involves nuance and shared understandings.

“Your parents are back in Ukraine - ya? Leong asked me, “Are you going to Lisa’s? (for Christmas)”
“It’s been agreed,” I confirmed, smiling.
“We gonna tear it UP!” Lisa laughed and we high-fived, smiling in anticipation.

Slang..
Document = true, fact
(*BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Mentor: someone who teaches a less experienced person.*)
Francis Oct 2023
The modern poem,
Is a minute, edgy,
Motivating, philosophical phrase,
About how you should change,
Your belief system,
On love,
In the format of a poem.
Modeled this after those Instagram “motivating” and “philosophical” quotes that are formatted like poetry, pretentiously edgy and dramatic— yet hardly resembles poetry. It seems like an ongoing trend that journaling about relationship drama in stanza format is the new art form of poetry. I’m not saying I’m Walt Whitman with my writing, but I at least try to have an original style.

Red rose in ribbons
Fragrance of evanescence
Life a lit candle
Photo inspiration- HaikuJam, Instagram
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
Peeping through blinds, double tap what I like,
—but less active in being interactive
A lot of people are so attractive,
—but funny how I'd say that after they're shaking their *****
Its still for the masses; holding a hunger so massive
as those you tend to like, put you on a list of
their passes

DM sliding into slippery situations,
hoping to get a response from a like on my comments
Still that’s not what I’m about,
—but as I’m feeding my eyes, scrolling on feeds
Not every picture is as reel,
—but unlike a tear on my skin, every unappealing
factor I feel is so real
It's just a thrill, I hate to have at times, and appearing
a thirsty guy

So maybe I'll just leave a nice comment about
the beauty of life, even it doesn't get a reply
And the response to recent posts is staring at the background
with a set of emoji eyes
Lucy Schofield Nov 2021
Social Media World

Waiting, longing, wanting
Never finished, never complete
Silence makes our ears ring
Always busy, looking to compete

Social media world
Everyone and no one
Never alone, your life is unfurled,
Tap, swipe, post, I’m done..

Never done, never finished
Your social media masterpiece
Do we leave ourselves diminished?
Even though we constantly increase ...

Increase and build, our profiles grow,
Piece by piece an ever changing image
So fast, so rapid, makes me want to go slow
In my mind I pretend and try to envisage

And yet I’m entirely torn
A hypocrite through and through
My very own image I’ll adorn
My eyes, my mouth and what about this hairdo?

I love it and I question it,
I label myself, but why?
Basic, white, “this is lit”
I’ve found that social media high

Parents worry, kids rebel,
Are they happy !?
Perhaps time will tell
For me, it’s the content that’s ******

Stop seeking happiness,
It’s not an end game
Stop talking mindfulness
Whilst putting others to shame

Let’s stop talking the talk
Preaching and self indulging
Watching and waiting like a hawk,
A lifetime wasted, wishing

But embrace the conversations!
Open dialogue; debating, discussing,
Thoughts, ideas and revelations,
Platforms for all, we could do anything!
Eyithen Sep 2021
A thumb flicks repetitive across the screen.
Scrolling.
Images of faces, targeted ads and mundane art.

A random couple standing on the beach.
I pause for them.

His toad like appearance distorts my face,
One nostril scrunching up in displeasure at the belly that sticks out rounding into his chest so you can’t tell where his torso starts and ends, while a pair of swim trunks desperately attempt to cling to a skeletal waist.

Her body is normal aside from the concave stomach and the ***** that had clearly been poked at, flayed away, reshaped into an over exaggerated spherical shape.

Two figures clearly trying and failing to force their bodies to reject their aging fate, but they succeed in looking less human, and more like that of distorted dreams. Their skin is too dark, slicked up with oil, and all I can think of is when leather for skin became fashionable.

Their bodies are theirs to do as they please, but this new species of seal takes away the beauty of the water kissing the shore and I find the thought of these distorted figures mar my vision of the beach into a sour taste.

I can only assume its attention they want with the transaction they made: her youth for his money.
So tell me, is it not within my right to judge?
Is it?

I scold myself for being quick to judge with my eyes
though I cannot find myself to be sorry;
For they have clearly invested in their outwardly appearance.
For the sake of themselves or others who is to say?
But they parade through sand exposed, out on display.
Inspired by a random picture
Ola Aduloju Mar 2021
Nothing puzzles me so much more
Than the shortlifeness of good things
The great heroes of yesterday
And to be found no more

Thanks for their good deeds
That bears the witness of their existence
Oh! Why do good things never last?!
Eureka!

What is the fate of a candle lit up in the wind?
It glows brightly but melts rapidly
Such is the life of men – the real men!
Good things never last

But my fellow men
It’s not how far but how well
I repeat, good things never last.
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