47 posts
  • writeweird 9w

    there's nothing as joyless as watching a poet struggle.

    -- unknown

    #poem #despair #dark #thoughts
    #free #verse #scattered #spiral
    #incoherent #break #painting #cold
    #room #wait #rough #draft #anarchy

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    crying for september: an incoherent piece by a fragile mind

    fold me in threads
    a thousand pieces alike

    carve me instead
    of setting the sun alight

    -- defiled.

    there's always more than i
    seek in my head

    if i hold my breath
    cut my throat

    i love you so

    maybe I'll kill myself
    next tuesday

    there's a storm on
    the offering

    by the window

    i wonder if this
    month will ever end

    how about tomorrow
    when it is sunny and

    all things considered
    i don't think i prefer the blue
    skies anymore

    maybe something more
    grey and tired

    like an autumn afternoon just
    before the winter

    whence the air is crisp
    and there's ambient silence

    like a painting you cannot
    stop staring at

    maybe it is september
    i cry for after all

    i hope it's not october.


  • writeweird 10w

    there's no title for despair

    as old as summer days
    and now i must grieve

    there's a morning to tend to
    another nightmare to cry

    that old tv occupies far too space
    in my mind

    collecting dust and silence in
    words i do not yet know how to speak

    maybe I'll talk to myself
    next tuesday

    there's a storm on
    the offering

    they say walls can listen
    you scream

    but no one ever visits this
    rusty old house

    where the night falls ever
    the same

    and people go to sleep
    as if nothing has ever happened

    perhaps it's not my story
    that the world cares for

    nor am i his favorite child and
    the thought scares me

    what if there's no one
    to pray to

    on a day you have much
    to pray for


  • absynth 33w


    The tickle, the tease
    The seduction, the sleaze
    Begging on my knees
    Not again please
    For the skin is too thick
    For needle pricks,
    Cemented too hard
    In concrete lessons
    Cordoned off by bricks
    Thrown at it.

    Too much sweat lost
    In the masonry of this mansion
    Which stands tall in the air
    And in my imagination.
    This turbulent nation
    Of drifting emotions
    Exhales only anarchy
    Through the melancholy map of pigmentation.

    The Armageddon of the nether world
    Hungry for new demons
    To tame, to name,
    To play a gory game
    With rules that exist
    Only to hurt
    Where the promise of death
    Comes closer and closer
    But is kept at bay by the sigil of your breaths
    As another day of slaughter
    Passes without sacrifice.
    All waves and particles,
    Energy and matter
    Connive to revive a corpse
    Whose every attempt at perfection
    Stops short of the divine.

    The dazzling sun of the heavens
    Burning through the melanin
    As revenge for the distance
    That can never be bridged
    But the carcinogen has found a home
    Deep inside the bone marrow of the soul
    Penetrating with poise
    Through the sun blocks and lotions.
    Metastasis is the only way to evolve,
    To grow new ginseng roots
    Between the balance of yin and yang
    Watered by the gall of bitter truths.

    Moving round an axis
    Feeling the paralysis
    The sky, the soil
    Are of the same color at night
    When you switch on the light
    The shadow appears
    Now what is worse
    The shadow  or the darkness?
    Or the deepest desires branching into shallowness?
    Madness, madness
    Is where I bloom,
    Dear doom
    Will see you soon...


  • sangeetamagar 34w

    The world right now looks like a movie scene
    Nay! Not the ones with a happy ending
    It's like the start of an apocalypse
    Not the moon crashing down
    Or the nature adamant on destruction
    It's way more fatal
    It's people and men on the streets
    In the houses, in places with no ease
    It's the abuse on the deprived
    An attack on democracy
    Some laws being implemented
    Some rules by design
    It's not just with the force of an assault
    But also with the intention of a speech
    The world right now is a gruesome scene.

  • sangeetamagar 40w


    Is this me or everyone out there who is cursed?
    Overwhelmed by the horrors of the world?
    Where I don't feel safe anymore, not with men, or beast, or ghost, or god.
    I wake up with anonymity hanging on my wrecked soul,
    And go to bed with mists of confusion swirling above my world.
    Is this just me or others have eyes on them to see?
    Do they too feel the broken promises?
    And the long queues of empty stomach outside the palace of gold?
    The barbed wire, the destitution, the massacre, infidelity in every corner,
    Am I the lone one who is turning to a machine,
    Or the others have surpassed me?

    Some days you just feel defeated.

  • kalam_ 62w

    Raja ka aadesh manwane ko
    Tu laathi beshaq laana
    Namak haram na keh de koi
    Tu bhukhe pet hi aana

    Mere khoon ke kuch cheentein
    Ab bhi tere lab par hain
    Rago me daudta hai jo
    Mera upja dana
    Tu bhukhe pet hi aana

    Bik chuka hai raja tera
    Bik chuki ye sarkar
    Punjipatio ke jebo me hoga
    Apne haq ka khana
    Tu bhukhe pet hi aana

    #farmer #farmerprotest #farmbill #modi #monopoly #monarchy #anarchy #industialists #bjp #narendramodi #godia #desh #love #travel #life #inspiration #friendship #poetry #thoughts #diary #nature

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    Raja ka aadesh manwane ko
    Tu laathi beshaq laana
    Namak haram na keh de koi
    Tu bhukhe pet hi aana


  • pokescientist 73w


    The means should always justify the end and when the end starts to justify the means, anarchism reigns.

  • deactivate_user 76w

    Where The Present Ends,
    Anarchy Begins.


  • eden_with_eve 88w

    I regret nothing. Not a moment of my rebellion is meant for anyone other than myself. Pleasurably the heart in my chest beats to an anarchist's drum. If I must burn then so be it.

  • shabina_ammonite 98w

    The man before me...

    The man before me looked like heaven, but I'd known Felix for a year now and had learned otherwise.
    When we first arrived on this ruined planet (Cursa), Felix and I tried to break out, I was frightened he would look down on me if I refused, so (although every one of my senses objected) I followed him on a pathetic excuse for a prison break (we hardly got anywhere and ended up crawling back to our cell).
    That day I followed a man who I knew nothing about, other than he was a cute prisoner with a plant complex. I returned with the knowledge that Felix was a violent murderer, luckily he has never managed to harm me (he has tried, but I'm too clever to allow myself to be harmed by him, or so I thought)...

    A few months later, with the aid of our other cell mate (Aeton) we escaped and set off a chain reaction that spread worldwide of prison breaks. Each of us owned an area of this broken planet that was the size of a large city. In that time I learned that he was not the smartest out of the three of us.

    Felix would jump to irrational conclusions, make poorly thought through plans and preferred the use of fists over brains.

    But now? Oh how wrong Aeton and I were to underestimate him!
    We were at his mercy while he began his plan to take over the three cities.

    Aeton and I were the masterminds, we planned every scheme that promised we stayed at the top, we discovered and eradicated all threats to our positions and we accounted for even the most unlikely outcomes.
    But we had failed to factor Felix in...

    He is and always will be the most unpredictable man on this planet, and now he's set his mind to taking over bordering cities, and then more and more, until he's got an entire continent, and eventually the entirety of Cursa. One whole planet ruled by a man whose stupidity and intelligence coexist as one huge ball of chaos.

    We need our cities back.
    But how? He could do anything at anytime.

    This already chaotic planet could become the most literal definition of hell. It could go up in flames in an instant if the right person sets the fire. Felix was certainly a person capable of building and starting that flame...

  • namia28 100w

    Every drop of blood shed, arms another voice to resist. Every fascist's worst nightmare.

  • alekthepoet 110w

    Like A Red
    by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek The Poet)

    red [noun] — one who advocates the violent overthrow of an existing social or political order

    tipples [verb] — to drink liquor especially by habit or to excess, OR, to drink (liquor) especially continuously in small amounts

    burn [noun] — a channel of water that can vary in size from a stream to a river

    #selfdestruction #anarchy #recklessyouth #courage #breaktherules #bluehair #jaywalking #rebellious #marlasinger #chaos

    @mirakee @writersnetwork

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    Like A Red

    She adorns her face with platinum
    piercings, and her azure hair peeks
    out of her indigo hoodie. Her
    ragged, cinereous jeans reveal
    scabbed and bruised knees, and
    they’re tucked into jet black
    biker boots strapped to her feet.

    Without hesitation, she crosses the street.

    Tires screech and car horns beep and drivers
    scream obscenities that ornament the air
    with scorn. Yet like a red belonging in folklore,
    she slights their violent contempt.

    She tipples from the burn of
    self-destruction, and savors the
    flavor of rebellion, a savor so
    sweet it overwhelms her senses
    and compels her to behave reckless.

    And as I pass, I throw up my best fist
    of anarchy. I wish I was free like this.

    Though it takes a tinge of toughness
    to stare into the nihilistic abyss,
    it takes courage to have fun in it.

    by ©alekthepoet

  • jeitendra_sharma 112w


    to oppress all
    a state was installed
    a triumph of civilization, we'll see!
    a hierarchy of class, true indeed
    the creator is starved, levied with taxes
    offsprings are out for sell
    slaves to serve, Gods must be dead?
    where are those anarchists?
    a free soul, with no obligation
    enough grains to feed all
    yet millions starved to death
    violence in the gene, or opium of power
    the brutal nature of Lords
    or self-proclaimed preacher of God
    untouchability still exist
    thus, I reject the supreme God
    hunger on the streets, I see the dead
    all humans are the same, no better than animal
    few make choices, unprivileged bear consequences
    a few who sit on the throne, commands to rest
    the sacrifice of life in the name of the lord
    to live is to fight, death is the ultimate guide
    modern slavery, not shackled, yet not free
    making fortune from future breathes
    exchanging luxuries with poisonous gas
    crippling future generations
    there is no liberty, more or less, indeed, all are oppressed
    a state draws power from contract
    the invisible unwritten words in it
    makers break the law, rest are forced to follow
    they kill the man in the name of order
    erase him, like never existed
    there are wolf out there
    Hungry for more power, and pseudo order
    order where no one can rise against
    order where no soul is free
    no man can talk against
    decrees are waiting for him
    to hang him in cold blood,


  • emilycogswelt 130w


    It is coming.

    Brother in arms, take your weapon.
    I wake to the smell of destruction.
    I wake to the sight of revolution.

    The world has decided to start anew.
    It's time to fight for your place.
    It's time to fight--survival of the fit.

    There will be a different future.
    Far from the concept of government.
    Far from the concept of society.

    Let the anarchy begin.

  • literati_sp 133w

    The 'Sun' of Anarchy

    I watch the Sun that doesn't set
    Like us who live yet another day
    The stubborn Sun that was once so shy
    Perhaps the Sun too
    Went through a phase
    From routine to casual
    The Sun wears this guise well
    Staying out late
    Rebelling against its confines of time
    Even the Sun
    Can be a son of anarchy.

  • faewickwillow 133w

    #anarchy #panvitalism
    Background artist- Dehn Sora

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    And Slay All Angels

    Sink, we wither,
    Weave and dither.
    Form new faces on gods page,
    Become the aces of your age.
    Watch your feeling,
    Seek this peeling.
    Breathe my night,
    Escape from edens blinding light.
    We know not of what theu do.
    We see not the brine they chew.
    Yet they skin us for a profit,
    Sell us cancer, cant we stop it?
    Swim in winter,
    Extract the splinter.
    Protect your spine from poison virtue.
    Learn to shine beside this famine.
    Darkness dances balanced by light.
    Truely union thrives in flight.

    True love found beside the dark.
    Shave the evil, corrupted bark.
    Good and bad are the illusion,
    Nourish, thrive and flourish, avoid confusion.
    Pleasure and pain are all the same,
    Our dance illumined by your flame.

  • zetanova 134w


    Can you hear their voices
    They're trying to look out for you
    Play make believe with choices
    Just enough to comfort you
    Your whole life you've been bred
    To be their loyal sheep
    You're not even safe in bed
    They brainwash you while you sleep
    So close your eyes and open wide
    So you can swallow this
    They will help you choose a side
    It's best not to resist
    And when you're finally doped up
    From all the pills you're fed
    Fear is such a useful tool
    For their playground in your head
    Addicted to the power
    With a side effect of greed
    They're stealing your will power
    While they tell you that you're free
    You are just a number
    You are just a slave
    Big Brothers always watching you
    So make sure that you behave

    -Zeta Nova

  • loftydreams101 148w

    Into the Night's Fatal Pangs of Hunger.

    Not one step back,
    Into the winding gears of our machines
    Tonight, we swarm forward
    As a nocturnal plague

    As a curse throughout the land
    A back-alley scourge,
    Tussling and biting
    'Til the sirens cry murder

    Not one step back
    Into our den of sulfur
    The nights scream for us
    With a feverish hunger

    © William Wright, Jr. 2019

  • chaos_masterpiece 148w

    I Have Been Cooking Activism

    I'm honestly pompous
    An angry nihilist
    It's a third eye-
    Egyptian encrypted
    Theories of illumination
    Back when we rapped-
    in my kitchen.
    At the beginning
    Never thinking,
    It was going to be a tragic ending
    Instead i remake my reputation
    Into the woman
    I have always hidden.

  • guided_liberation 41w


    For a green piece of paper, it's out of control.
    Destroying our flesh and numbing souls.
    How many sick before we can see, what we face is a medical emergency.
    Poison disguised as medicine.
    Lies disguised as truth.
    Daily robbing the children of their youth.