Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

Robotic Plague (Free verse) by bon
Ego stops the engine beneath the contraction of flesh and blood As the sudden brittleness takes its toll They bridge yesterday and tomorrow to stitch what has designed And change the destiny of our age Time is skipping as the day’s fast running A triathlon of intensity against the elements of weakness Machineries they created replacing sane minds As they slip over generation’s past Rational souls are in rage of adoration and madness Trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle they fashioned They raise empty religion we learn to accept, Amity between procrastination and urgency And the severance of our essence and form Ideals they disperse into the milking minds Creating an army of mindless generation They are like smoke that intervenes a blossoming day As the murkiness becomes the air we breathe They lurk in the music we merely hear Little by little, killing us by spirits we gulp They hunt down clothes to dress our body Leaving the owner feeling cold and fuzzy Voices we shout them with blames and grief They throw back stones of pain unrelieved The melodies we sang that compensate fond aches Are topping their charts in one week straight We are their machines, puppets on their strings We came from the images of our mentors’ minds They steal our soul and the beating of our heart, The solace of the sun and the shiver in the rain Our endeavors fail and tired of anticipating For the return of the innocence we lost And from our deprived naivety The eyes we used to see bright intuitions Are now gloomy by their suppressions Now, I close them and release my soul Release my grip that binds them all

Up the ladder: Crowning Achievement
Down the ladder: Puerto Rican Tequila

You must be logged in to leave comments. Vote:

Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 00
.. 00
.. 01
.. 00
.. 10
.. 00
.. 10
.. 00
.. 00
.. 00
.. 10

Arithmetic Mean: 4.5
Weighted score: 4.9403987
Overall Rank: 9051
Posted: July 29, 2003 12:45 AM PDT; Last modified: July 29, 2003 12:45 AM PDT
View voting details
Comments:
[6] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 | 29-Jul-03/8:24 AM | Reply
this is nice:

The melodies we sang that compensate fond aches

but you do try me with the rest of those phrases strung garishly together to beat upon my consciousness
120 view(s)




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001