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Literature Text
and in truth
war never was a solution,
peace eludes us as we find reason
to bleed
again and again.
revolutionaries die, remembered
as heroes and gods, their words slowly twisted
into cruel deeds.
war never was a solution,
peace eludes us as we find reason
to bleed
again and again.
revolutionaries die, remembered
as heroes and gods, their words slowly twisted
into cruel deeds.
Literature
snowglobe
we hoped it would get bad enough to break glass
that one of our voices
would find the note
to split the window
make a neighbour call the cops
that the dishes would shatter
into too many pieces
to be picked off the floor
we wanted glass in our heels
a trickle of heat
a flicker of colour
in the sun-blank snow
the pines leaned on our doorframe
we waited for them
to pressure in and unfurl
shower our stunned faces
in a rain of needles
knock the teapot off the table
in a blossom of shards
but the trees stood by
evergreen and identical
the same dream of pine repeating
behind yellowing plastic
we painted shut the door
with smi
Literature
in the box
is a brain, removed from shell
disconnected
from signal wires. still viable (?)
maybe.
blue teeth and instant grams
and gallons of conceit;
our granular portrait no longer flatters
unless dull spots and imperfections are rendered
out in the wash--
we mask and filter, ask and answer,
bask in banter
understanding no one ever even thinks
to change the thought they've already had.
old news, rotten
if revisited. inquisitive
minds have nothing better to do
but second guess assumptions,
better than first-blush conundrums
that don't fit the formula we've written
for how the world works;
it's absurd to think
this is where our
Literature
waterproof
sea foam regrets
wash this lacerated heart
with saline baptisms
of undying love
(and etch their
wretched revelations
on mausoleum walls).
your ancient ruins
still stand undefeated
by impudent waves
(like overexposed
polaroids showcased in
empty exhibitions).
and it's futile
exorcising
my heart of
your remnants
(because all
graveyards need
ghosts to
haunt them).
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This is why I have no faith in humanity nor in my writing.
I'll scrap this later.
I'll scrap this later.
© 2013 - 2024 EternalSunday
Comments8
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i think it is just fine as it is! it's a good piece and i like it very much it think you should keep it!