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Shambhavi Apr 24
Chairs were made in many forms,
for different hands, for different norms.
But one was placed for all to try,
too high, too low, too stiff, too dry.

It scratched their skin, it bruised their pride,
yet still they sat, and tried to hide.
Until it broke, with quiet despair,
not them, my friend but the unfit chair.
Funfact: It's not about chairs :)
Ahmed Gamel Apr 24
A New World I See
I see a world not built on chains,
But minds that question, break the reins.
Where hearts are free to roam and soar,
Not bound by rules, but longing more.

The world we know is cracked and scarred,
Where truth is bent and dreams are barred.
The wolves above, they feast and lead,
While beneath, the sheep must bleed.

Yet I see a world where minds can thrive,
Where freedom's spark keeps us alive.
Not chaos born from hearts that burn,
But love and truth we’ll fight to learn.

Still, there’s a darkness in our veins,
A hunger deep, a thirst for gains.
For power, control, the will to rise—
We mask it well, but still disguise.

Two worlds we face, both dark and light,
One bound by fear, one free of fight.
The wolves will lead, the sheep will fall,
But will we rise above it all?

A world of power, a world of pride,
A world where we don’t need to hide.
A choice to rise, to build, to free,
To claim the world that’s meant to be.

But the cost is high, the price we pay,
For those who twist, for those who sway.
They'll take our truth, they'll take our soul,
And use our freedom to control.

Still, I see a world where love’s the key,
Where minds are sharp and hearts are free.
We hold our fate, we choose our way,
And with each step, we light the day.

We’ll walk the line between the wolf,
And in our hands, the power to pull.
From darkness into light we rise,
With truth and love as our disguise.

We are not beasts, we are the ones,
The chosen few, the many sons.
And if we fall, we rise again,
In a world reborn by love, not sin.

The answer’s ours, the choice is clear,
Will we fight or give in to fear?
I see a world where we can be,
More than wolves, more than the sea.

So I choose a world that’s born from mind,
A world where truth and love align.
A world where we can truly see—
The best of us, the best we’ll be.
This poem explores the complexities of human nature and society, questioning the delicate balance between freedom and control, power and love. It delves into the contradictions that define us as humans—our potential for both greatness and destruction—and envisions a world where we break free from the systems that hold us back. It's a call to awaken, to rise above the constraints imposed on us, and to embrace both love and truth as guiding forces.

I hope this resonates with you and sparks some deep reflection. May we all strive to build a world where humanity is free, not just from external chains, but from the limitations we place upon ourselves.
Damocles Apr 22
Wherein a tear is but a dew drop
Feeding verdant turf,
Would sadness then feed an army
If only to be led by serfs?
Chess?
David Hilburn Apr 21
Omni-portrayal
******* in love, to the dark
And omnipresent vote for survival
Of love, ******* knows where avid harks

Children of love...
And steady immersion of poise to the like
Wise, the grace of reliance on us...
That has voice, for a philosophy of psyche

That we are sleeping next to...
Chance and devoid, the world's honor
Has come of age, in our stir of again and youth
Wouldn't you, the rosey future of stomached verve?

Awakening at a reasoned silence...
The tooth of simple society, has awoken with me
Poorer answers to liberty, with the flower of amends
Has become my service to an ideal, that is here to collect anarchy?

Sleepy beginnings...
To a call to worth, I don't know for a shy reality
Nor the solemn, a table of suicide for its garner of winnings
From the hands of guidance, that has established fealty...

A thank you kiss?
And the giving eye, of redress for indiscretion
With the kind repose of virtue, a halo of a worldly wish
Ready in peace's live, to weigh the common with our intuition

The truth of *******...
Ample redoubt of a knowing vice, that has you by the toe
Since to vainer gifts of sharing, with living strength to wit
Is it willful to judge another's dream, with the sense of worldlier soul's?
didn't a speed for specialness, become a shadow of the philosopher's stone?
Violet E Apr 21
27
27

Today I turn 27,
Finding myself not feeling anything,
Recovery is a bittersweet ending,
Sobriety but a lingering telling,
It took 27 lines of ******* drugs,
Not the kind you may think off,
The kind we are so addicted to,
27 lines of the purest lies,
27 lines of the finest mistreatment,
27 lines of the most mindfucking self harming,
27 lines of the most relaxing coping,
27 lines of the most euphoric settling,
It took 27 contracts,
To realize that in this tale as old as time ending,
Is never too late,
To rule over a queendom,
Abandoned by the heiress,
A queen of a lonely poetry,
Fading in the vision,
Chasing fantasies,
Never seeing the clock behind her,
27 years to wake up from a slumber,
A self given kiss,
The curse is broken,
27 years of harcore lines,
The ones that only make you realize,
Delusion is but a poisoned apple,
The side effects but a reflection of the hidden mirror,
For in the end, my world is but an illusion,
The same you wake up to,
An actress of everyone's delusions,
Never given a chance to envision,
The illustrations of a scripture,
A tale written by a lonely heiress,
One that welcomes,
Foes that see the vision,
Wolves wearing sheep linen,
Their masquerade no longer hidden,
27 years of ******* lines,
Rose pink sunglasses the sweetest red wine,
27 years of the finest lines,
Why was it so hard,
To see what was left behind,
A world that is only mine,
Looking, looking, and looking,
For a savior wearing armor and diamond,
Today I realize,
The heaviness in my heart,
Heaviness of armor I looked past,
I had been fighting a war,
To protect what is so precious and not far,
The vision of a lonely child,
Made to closer her eyes,
So she would never realize,
She was the one she was looking for,
Shameless for is never too late,
To open the gates of heaven inside.
Today is my 27th birthday, a fated rebirth of a war ridden woman worthy of the heaven that resides deep within, outward, below and above, heaven, earth, and hell. The battles to protect it are over, but the war to keep it alive is endless. on a less poetic note, I just want to remind everyone that is don't matter how old you are. for it is NEVER too late to realize that there is a heaven within you, it is so easy to believe in the hell we are all used to. why is it so hard for us to realize that heaven is not something waiting for us at the gates of our demise. but rather an experience we get to have here on earth. the law of duality reminds us that, good in our world, our lives is just as real as the evil we experience every second of our lives. for one needs the other to remain alive, give yourself flowers today. for doing so one day will encourage you to give flowers to the world, not from a place of lack, but from a place of overflowing abundance. I love you, if you got to read this.
You agonize the narrow
I must leave you there
To tenderize the pharaoh
Layer lush and ample fabric bare
Share the weight of marrow
Several stones to spare in tow
Though one good strike, straight as arrow
Between the breast would **** the sparrow

Recognize the symbols
Mind maneuvers nice and nimble
Cracking fingers thumping chest
Lay them down to rest in thimbles
Grasping straws like thorns in thistles
Language lingers, yearns to click
Waiting for a whistle
Brain is Pavlov, oilslick
Alchemizing maladies
To blunt the morning pistol

Bathe in shattered pools of thought
Meddling in silence
Betwixt a tug and vice grip
Stands the one who shapes with violence
Defend the winding gauntlet
Soothed by gentle guidance
Send the snare in riveting
For snakes who break from Camelot
And those who sleep with science
Zywa Apr 20
Let each other live,

forced integration turns out --


wrong for everyone.
Personal essay "Galmende geschiedenissen" ("Echoing histories", 2025, Sinan Çankaya)

Live and let live

The mentality that minorities should adapt in cultural matters, as if integration comes down to that, is colonialist; the point of living together is living according to the rule of law, with respect for everyone's cultural customs

Collection "Truder"
Sudzedrebel Apr 19
It's only bi-sexuality,
Who gives a ****?
It's consensual sexuality
Between loving partners.
It ***** being on the cusp
Of any one lean,
But so much worse
Being truly in-between.
It's not indecision,
Not confusion.
That's what's so perplexing
To any outside party.
Not that
It's any easier internally.
For I understand myself
And am comfortable with me,
But it's
Just the nature of society.
Nature of our philosophies,
Nature of our identities.

I'm just a product of nature.

We're all
Royal plains for an ***.
We're all
Noble springs *******.

I'm just a lover of nature.

If I seem to be having a laugh,
That's not a point you're missing.
But if you can't sense the sadness
It's cause they're kissing.
Here's one about me!
I mean, honestly. . .
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