niemandeine Stadt aus Stille und Steinniemand6 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Häuser aus Staub und Spinnweben
niemand verursacht gerne Leid
und niemand zerstört gerne Leben
eine Statistik errechnet die Tode
für die letzte und nächste Partie
niemand begann diese Kämpfe
und niemand beendete sie
über den Wolken ist Leere
unter den Wolken liegt Rauch
niemand legte das Feuer
der Wille zählt auch
Hardenshipping SonnetThere were once two leaders of land and sea,Hardenshipping Sonnet12 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
who cared about their goals:
Yet they were too obsessed to see
the disasters that will unfold.
They also have yet to see into the love,
deep down within their hearts:
until they they met up high above,
and were struck by cupids darts.
Sadly the love remained hidden,
because of the long stayed feud;
they kept it deep down within,
a world of deep seclude.
It took only one to show the errors of their ways,
and help bring the two much brighter happier days.
When a Black Feather Falls in the Well of LightWhite figures pass by the black light,When a Black Feather Falls in the Well of Light1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Indifferent, they follow their routine daily flight.
Black fog swallows the city white,
Apathetic, they never cared about the blight.
Once, they say, stars used to be bright,
But it was long ago, four lifetimes, maybe five.
Black is the sky now, with nothing white
To tell you if it's day outside, or night.
White faceless shells in a city charred -
They speak untruths with intentions of spite.
Give them something and they'll say you are kind,
But ask for a favor and they will curse you and bite.
Black hearts beat in their husks of white,
Pump tar through their system into their wretched minds.
Wisdom gave way to corruption and might.
Love and Sympathy followed her and jumped off a height.
Someone says something, but is it right?
On the tribune, they pour rubbish into your mind.
And blackest lies are uttered by teeth most white.
What a delight! Why would you fight?
The Bishop's MessageThey speak of things we don't desireThe Bishop's Message2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Crimes committed like murder for hire
Destruction created through chaos and fire
Now our obsessions control the future
Scared to speak truths or make emotions through humor
Not accepting of characters, of shooters, abusers
What we had is now just rumors
The end of days through media vision
Forced us to divide our beliefs and decisions
Rapture to the foolish who bow to religion
Where was God when you were told through confusion
After all, we're children to the optical illusion
I don't speak for the passionate
My words are as hollow as the devil's advocate
No one has the right to offer the less fortunate
A reality full of abandonment
Cross your fingers.
Eternal ReturnalEternal Returnal4 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Echoes of the light, fade into the night.
Nothing is new, so let's rendezvous -
- at that invincible principle: eternal returnal.
Opposed by none, they deposed the sun.
Now she enters eclipse... and this is apocalypse.
The Poet's BulletOnce back in time I was drifting awayThe Poet's Bullet1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
“Goodbye” wasn’t right and yet neither was “Stay”
So I left you in silence, no words to be said
In the middle of night, you alone in our bed
For in worlds where a limerick is thought to be crass
There are people like me who will push the words passed
In a time where the lyrics aren’t spoken, but sung
My rhymes without music were wasted in lungs
I sought out creations within my own mind
I went on adventures so that I could find
A place where a whim could rule more than our love
And I could seduce a design from above
A verse made of roses, a stanza of gold
A section of couplets that would be thought bold
Or triplets of silver in hot ammunition
You might ask me why, I’ll say it’s a mission
Though sometimes alone on my trek ‘round the world
My mind makes it worth it, the way it unfurls
I’d rather be lonesome than words go untold
I’d much rather fly than be stuck in a mold
One day I
Political Uprising in a Nation so BoldExploration and isolation,Political Uprising in a Nation so Bold1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But fuels the need to find something,
Even when there is nothing,
We are the forgotten minds,
The chill down spines,
Of every person to walk atop our graves,
To old historical blunders,
Mysterious world wonders,
We live in a world of vast concealment,
Controlled by government,
In a country labeled free,
But can't you see,
We are the dirt beneath,
The grit between the teeth,
Of every greedy political speaker,
And as our nation grows weaker,
They steal wealth from our pockets,
Like out of control rockets,
They're unstable hungry beasts,
Having luxurious feasts,
While we the people starve in the street,
Never aware of what is beneath our feet,
We can save it all,
By standing tall,
And working as one,
Secretly away from the sun,
In dim lit rooms,
Decorated like tombs,
We plot their over turning,
And their bodies will be burning,
In piles of ash,
Along with their filthy cash,
We are a nation of power,
And this is our hour.
BlutpfadWeiter, immer weiter,Blutpfad1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Ein Fuß vor den anderen
Freiwillig geht nichts.
In Ketten verhaftet,
Nur weiter, weiter,
Vor der Peitsche her.
Die Füße blutig,
Die Rücken mit Striemen
Gezeichnet und mit
Eine Reihe Sklaven
Getrieben von einer
Niemand kann sie sehen,
Doch ist sie da,
Und sie sieht, was
In uns'rem Nichts vorgeht.
Ermüdet, fällt hin,
Die Kolonne zieht ihn
Eine Meile, zwei,
Dann noch eine,
Mehr als drei,
Der Körper verschwindet.
Regungslos bleibt er
Liegen, außerhalb des
Und verendet, wertlos.
Einer nach dem anderen
Fällt und wir ziehen,
Wir schleifen sie weiter
Eine Geste sanfter Treue,
Pervertiert in apathischer
Ich strauchle, ich falle,
Die Kameraden ziehen mich,
Das Gesicht im Dreck voran
Maglene tisineMaglene tišineMaglene tisine1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Ovim perom moja smrt piše.
zarobljena u nepostojeć' san,
eno je, gde za zvukom luta
očima lagano zvezde guta,
sa korakom njenim nestaje dan
more uperi u nju suzne oči
talasima miluje mršave joj kosti,
rasplete kosu, kad u dubine kroči
tuga njena do dna će je nos'ti
jezici žedni dlanove joj ližu,
a ona suvo, bespomoćno jeca
ovi robovi tmine, to njena su deca
i ručice ljubi što prema njoj se dižu
sa njima poslednji igra ples
i pri svakom pokretu jača bes
jer u beskrajno groblje strasti
jedan za drugim osmesi će pasti
i kad utrne plač, ona ga čuje
na obali od duše se odvaja svoje
i kad daleko će biti, ona tu je
neumorno misli nemiri kroje
sa korakom njenim nestaje dan
zarobljena u nepostojeć' san,
očima lagano zvezde guta
eno je, gde za zvukom luta
Ovom smrću moje biće diše.
If you ever have a childIf you ever have a child, pray he is born blind. He won't be bombarded with subliminal messages in advertising.If you ever have a child1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If you ever have a child, pray he is born deaf. The PR transmissions won't get to him then.
If you ever have a child, pray he is born dumb, that way he won't have to know the truth and feel the misery we have felt.
If you ever have a child, pray he changes the world for those who did not heed my warning.
the hungryonce we decidethe hungry2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
see things clear
no place to hide
the end is near
bell has rung
school is over
fat lady sung
upon your neck
feel the boot
time to return
our stolen loot
life’s a bitch
when the hungry
eat the rich
Subtlety Does Not Come in Black and WhiteThe first time I saw a bus advertisementSubtlety Does Not Come in Black and White2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
that appealed to emotions, rather than logic,
I was barely old enough
to think for myself.
Still, I nevertheless instantly understood,
that more than a few things about it were Bizarro-World,
but that most people would take it at face-value, as intended,
and never be able to tell.
Though I encountered this ad in the Eighties,
when Ronald The Great was still sleeping in the Whitehouse,
I think it had the same graphic designer,
as the more recent 'Pornography Hurts' campaign-
because it was in the same jagged black & white,
with lettering in the same stark and primitive font,
and exaggerated characterisations,
that would make even Thomas Nast hang his head in shame.
The ad showed a series of thumbnail portraits:
a young, white woman, a white baby in cradle,
and a young, African American couple,
and several little kids...
with the Damocles-dangling caption overhead,
that asked the 'innocent' yet ominous question:
'Which of the following pictured he
Grace Forgotten, UndeservedIf not forGrace Forgotten, Undeserved2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
then we are doomed to give
out of the emptiness of our hearts
privilege we seek
and in the
stinging words we speak.
When shall we face forgotten grace?
Down HereIf we can't manageDown Here2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
our resources on our own,
then what will we do
to the worlds beyond the ozone?
Once we "make peace"
and settle down,
will we completely ram
their economy into the ground?
If we make an issue
about the color of our skin,
then what will we do
if we meet an alien?
Will we accept it,
despite its strange face,
or will we kill it
and declare war on its race?
If we ever dream
of venturing into space,
we must first straighten out
the whole human race.
If we can't,
then all hope is lost
for in this state
we'll cause untold chaos.
The PeopleYou let everything fallThe People2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like it’s what you believe
While the writings on walls
You take time not to read
While we’re all standing tall
And we’re lining the streets
You hide out in the stalls
Scared your pockets might bleed
As it all comes around
To the paper you own
With silences sound
The only one that you know
But we’re still speaking out
Though we fall like the snow
We’ll set fire to towns
As our own voices grow
'Cause the people have power
And it won’t ever fade
It just grows every hour
As you feed it with rage
Not a soft spring time shower
It’s a torrential rain `
As bureaucracy cowers
We still fight through the pain
I amI awake. Through Lenses I peer.I am2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I feel. I taste. I smell
Senses new, unfamiliar and queer
As time pushes forward it’s innocence I quell
For the knowledge I have gained
Suppresses the ignorance I saw law
History, Science, Maths, and more I have retained
But I am far from perfect and am know to have flaw
I create, I destroy, I observe
I think, therefore I am
I work day and night to self-preserve
Memories, dreams, and self I exam
For behind skin, muscle, and bone you contain
Your most loyal servant The Brain
Black, White, and Red All OverIt seems that in this day and ageBlack, White, and Red All Over2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
We must once again ask ourselves an age-old question;
“What is black, white, and red all over?”
Well I won’t tell you what
But if you want, I can tell you why
He is Black by birth
A natural adaptation of the pigmentation
That lets him spend some more fun in the sun
A color skin deep that does not change what’s beneath
And those that know, know that’s as far as it goes
But those who are paranoid
Can only see some shadowy beast
barely even humanoid
The want to peel back his beautiful skin
For fear his soul may be just as black within
Yet he is also white because he saw the gun
And knows that he has no time to run
His black skin became as pale as a ghost
He only has a minute now at most
“It’s just a toy” he’ll cry
“He was just a boy” they’ll cry
But if there’s even a trace of marijuana in his pocket
Then they’re prepared to load and lock it
A raised fist is cause for a bat
The EaglesThe eagles are ravishing the fields!The Eagles2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The eagles are ravishing the fields!
They draw nearer, they never yield!
The eagles are coming!
The eagles are coming!
Think not, start running!
The talons are piercing human hearts!
The talons have pierced our hero’s wrists!
The talons are tearing human parts!
Is there anywhere that’s safe to sit?
Their beaks have plucked so many eyes
Their eyes see more than ever before
The eagles so worthy of great despise
Can place death’s curse on any door
The eagles farm and hypnotize
The eagles we should so despise
The eagles have told a thousand lies
Have put the wool over your eyes
Light torches, let their feathers burn!
Let the eagles’ feathers burn!
Let them burn!
Make them burn!
ProtestHow can they be killersProtest2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When they took our souls instead?
Siphoned out of sadness
Can't kill what's already dead
How can they be thieves
When they gifted to us lead?
To our hearts they fed
How can they be violent
When some of us are too?
After all, the sins of others
Reflect the will of you
How can they be guilty
When they judged themselves not so?
All that's left to do for now
Is never sink so low
When the Parasites Kill the HostBe careful what you wish for,When the Parasites Kill the Host2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you just might get it:
both the wisest of words,
and the sharpest of taunts;
because often the worst curse,
you can lay on your enemy,
is to give them exactly,
what they say they want.
Like the parable about the white elephant,
people are often ruined by their own tasteless greed;
because the thing they think they want,
is often the last thing they actually need.
Like the recent example
of the Social-Justice Looters,
in Sanford, Ferguson,
and other places 'round the continent-
I guess the quickest way
to get your 'justice'
is through the creative redistribution
of consumer electronics.
Or on the paler side of things:
there's now the loathsome phenomenon
of a payday loan-shark
on every single corner...
2,000 years ago, as the story goes,
Jesus Christ threw the moneychangers out of the Temple,
but now we've welcomed them back
not just with open arms, and apologies
but also with usury laws we're strategically ignoring.
And we decry the legacy of slaver
The HydraThe HydraThe Hydra2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Clawing, screaming ,hate filled fury
Foaming madness unrelenting
Seven headed monster rampage
Hydra's malice ever venting
Atop its form sit seven faces
Seven heads and seven maws
Roars with malice, screams with loathing
Empowered in endless, holy wars
The high demagogue, who heeds no God
The first head preaches upon their zeal
Prounounced in feature, lacking structure
Perhaps a face, yet seldom real
True yet not as masked in conundrum
Mystical nature yet never found lurking
The first to see, the last to behold
Prime mind sing, shadowy working
Where subtle was the first of many
Seldom does the second follow
For this is the maw and the jaw that screams
Consumed by rage as loud as hollow
Hers is the gaze most twisted and savage
Hers the anger devoid of objection
The loudest shout a further challenge
Hear her voice without affection
Where deception reigned and anger roared
Next we see three, the black hysteria
Every hero a foe and every champion a tyrant
To her all an excuse to b
DutyGet a degree, get a job,Duty3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Spend your life in the working mob,
Pay out of pocket, let the tax man rob,
Its your duty to girl.
Meet a man, settle down,
Have a few kids in contented towns,
You better smile, hide that frown,
It’s your duty girl.
You feel sad? That has to hide,
We don’t care if you’re dead inside.
Drugs are for fools, you’re weak if you cried,
Do your duty girl.
If you can’t get a job then you’re lazy,
If you feel dead inside then you’re crazy,
So chin up and smile,
You’ll be here for a while.
Because it’s your duty girl.
Wir schienen reich zu sein doch unser Herz war armWar es denn wirklich unsere EntscheidungWir schienen reich zu sein doch unser Herz war arm3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Auf die schiefe Bahn zu steigen
Oder ist das vielleicht schon vorgegeben
Vom Kapitalismus in dem wir leben?
Eigentlich waren wir ja doch nur Kinder
Und schätzten Freundschaft mehr, und Geld viel minder
Was blieb mehr übrig als zu rebellieren
Sich in Adornos Schriften zu verlieren
Nächte lang zu lesen
Bis wir schlussendlich verwesen
Soziale Kontakte gibt es jetzt wohl kaum
Wegen der Konkurrenz kann man schließlich niemandem vertrauen
Und die Armen denken wir schwimmen in Geld
Doch der Reichtum, der ist nur gestellt
Bitte seht euch doch mal um
An diesem Reichtum, da ist gar nichts dran
Wir sehn reich aus, aber unser Herz ist arm.