The misanthropic city reveals itself in the weathering of architecture and pavement An erratic day of sunshine striated with clouds. Brought together in circumstances where survivalism divides us. The trees were lush, drenched with summer White tiles bleached with golden … Continue reading
Walking through a house of heartbreaks
littered with the corpses of failures
hanging lifeless, upside down,
displayed for all to see.
Uncanny gallery of battle wounds
the scars still hurt
after they heal.
This is not another broken-hearted poem
but it is about love
Worried about losing the now
because things could always be much worse.
Taking the slaps
because it is easier than losing a home.
Wanting less pain
but not fighting for it because somehow
we’ve learned to believe
that we get what we deserve.
And that suffering builds ruggedness of character.
And the hurt increases with each ask…
even then…
risk that heartbreak
follow that dream
(and make it real)
another failure
is no more than
the others before.
There is nothing more depressing
than wandering with the ghost of a dream
and living each day
in exactly the same way as we did
50 years before.
Keeping to the same limits
prescribed for each of us
with boundaries drawn in for us
in accordance to our merits
(determined by someone other than ourselves)
Dare we pursue the possibility of being
much much more than a cog in the machine
of one man’s dream?
This is not another broken-hearted poem
but it is about love.
Last night we battled our fears together.
We took turns to be each others’ fears
Standing there as my hand was put over my mouth – a silent scream
My other hand was extended
reaching for air,
my legs, crafted to display
straining, pushing forward
but never moving.
Held back by my own hand.
She danced
She stood up to her fears
She danced
She displayed absolute control
She danced
Swiping away all that stood in her way.
She danced.
@LakesideFSC. #reimagineplaces
Yet another poem we wrote during Writing With Communities. This one was written based on the word “Fear”. After collating responses from the whole class to this word, we sat down to create a poem from words or phrases that struck us.
This is the poem my group created:
panic in the darkness as time passes slowly
fear of the future,
of being forgotten
of no love
of death
we start dying from the day that we are born.
each second that passes feels like hours
my insignificance grows with days passed in limbo
one:lab 