Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd June 2019 4:10am
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Controversial Music Video,

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

Write a poem based on how you responded to the controversial music video, Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People.
This competition is for DU members with five or less wins.  

Both CSD1558 (Minx) and I would like you to write a poem about the music video provided in the link below.  
Let your emotions spill out on paper.  Tell us how it made you feel, deep inside your soul.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_MFt08wEUOQ

poet Anonymous

Silence

In memory of mass shootings that has gripped our society  
As a new day approach  

The sun no longer provides warm to a storm that has set in  
Tears falling heavily as the subconscious of reality will soon begin  
A presence from birth, now gone too soon  
I give you the stars I gave you the moon  
There are tears in silent remembrance today  
Words of comfort I give to you, when I do not know the right words to say  
On my knees as I pray  
Daily grief not to hinder your way  
Keep your faith never to betray  

I couldn’t hold your hand as you took your last breath  
As you stood on the throne of life and death  
Such cruel and untimely fate as you’ve met  
Hurt, disbelief, wrapped in a blanket of anger  
From the senseless mentality of a complete stranger  
This poem is so unfair to write  
Retaining my own tears, for such a sickening grotesque sight
While seeing through the eyes of any parent’s pain, their silent mental fight  
Holding onto a smiling picture frame, not wanting to let go with all their might  
 
I feel your heartache, my God it hurts, it makes me so ill  
Destiny knocked at your door with a plan to kill  
Slaughter of the innocent at the expense of someone else’s deranged free will  
No more laughter, no debating, no kisses or great day wishes  
No one to pat on the back when adolescent years have challenged their existence  
You can do this, a parent’s voice once echoed in loving persistence  
As visions of deferred hopes, crushed yesterdays, with no more promises of a future tomorrow  
At this moment in time I could never measure the depth of your sorrow  
 
Spaces once occupied mementos now standing still  
Is this all done under God’s earthly will  
I don’t understand this, so vital, yet so young  
At this time no need to hold my tongue  
Therefore, it’s time to put down those guns  
NRA we have to do better with our liberal gun laws  
Caskets, funerals, obituaries, from such a demoralizing cause  
Tell your excuses to parents who’ve outlived their future generation, tears rolling down cheeks without a pause  
 
Just remember in your PR speech, a precious soul has been taken in the blink of an eye  
Life we live and death we must die  
But not at the hands of evilness, who never had that right to decide  
I cannot hold memories, it cannot talk  
I was the one who held my child’s hand as they learned to walk  
I was the one who wiped their flowing tears  
Now some deranged person, who never cherished his own life, brought me to this, here  
Someone hold me now, in the midst of far away tears  
An untimely death, anyone’s worst fears  
 
I’ve held hands as life has slipped away  
Not for such young genders whose still at play  
Prom and School Dances  
Puppy love romances  
Given so many parental second chances  
The candle has, as known by a parent’s name, has blown out in the wind  
I give you my shoulder, my ear I lend  
Silence greets homes, heard now so very loud  
Beautiful young souls have now floated beyond the clouds  
To God’s arms life has returned  
Leaving an empty space and an unspoken presence to yearn  
 
Sarah McLachlan - In the arms of an Angel
poet Anonymous

Packing Bullets For School

The weirdo in plain sight  
Different in the way he moves
On the outside looking in  
 
Pushed by peers  
By social media  
Who don’t understand the torment  
 
An anger burns away innocence  
What’s left simmers slowly  
Till it all boils over  
 
The barriers of reason  
Crash down  
Leaving a shell of evil  
 
Everyone will feel his pain  
Know the hell he comes from  
In the hail of bullets spread  
 
Each a statement
That underscores the need  
To silence the bullying morons
 
Taking down the world  
To feel normal  
To feel in control again
poet Anonymous

Here Come the Storm Clouds


Rolling, roiling
they come—
from over the horizon,
pent-up greens turned charcoal
in clouds like monsters, hulking
across the plains.  

The rains
the rains
come—
and wash away the blood;
I hope God doesn’t hate me
for wishing he’d shoot Bonnie
and her prima donna bitches

and Dan the I-love-me, quarterback

and Nelson and Tyler and Ashley and—

and everyone except me

because he did, the shooter—
shot them all, everyone
on my list, I ever thought I’d shoot, if I had a gun.

Rains still fall in torrents, thunder screams.

I know what it feels like to survive
and it’s an ugly thing.

I should have died too, for wishing them dead
because they are, like the shooter read my mind.

He came too, on the clouds, and
he’s melting in slow motion police sirens.

I survived. A coward under the table.

poet Anonymous

The Real Life

What is this life we now live?
Where mass shootings
almost go unnoticed?
We’ve become
so numb,
we rarely even lose our focus!
Our daily activities,
have become our proclivity,
and our sensitivity
ain’t allowed to interrupt “OUR” serenity!
Is this the real life?
Where we’re all just waiting to die?
Or are we just awaiting a personal tragedy
to befall you and I?
Are we so immune to “the way things are“
that we let death
gloss over our eye?
And the momentary tragedies
we hear about on the news,
have less affect on us than a sty?
Where did this ‘lack of compassion’
we possess,
turn into “Let’s make this
about ourselves”
so we can take our own insecurities
and shame somebody else?
Social media has taken the weak,
and turned them into bully’s!
Granted, it’s helped punish some individuals but it hasn’t corrected
any situations fully.
It seems we want these things to continue
so we can find something new to attack!
We get a high off being vigilantes,
so we stab each other in the back!
We’ve lost all of our direction,
following our treacherous heart,
has become our goal.
We have a glaring LACK OF LOVE
but we can’t figure out why
this world has lost control!
poet Anonymous

Ghostwriter (Kinderspiel)

poet Anonymous

Thoughts & Prayers

if it's not your good boy's good brain
spattered
or your baby girl
torn
if it's not your son
or your daughter dead at fourteen or fifteen
and all that love
all that hope
all that sweet prideful desire for your progeny
to rise above the mundane
and do
and be
and shine --
if it's not yours
suddenly
just gone,
wasted,
ruined
then it's awful
and wrong
and it just shouldn't happen
and good lord, holy Jesus

but that's it
that's us

mass shooting
thoughts and prayers
then go on about your business

because who but mama and papa has time to mourn
what with the electric bill on the table and the mortgage coming due?
poet Anonymous

Shooting Feelings, A Loss of Masculinity, Discipline, Stoicism and Fathers

we churn out another wheel crushed man
that didn't understand why the world
hated that he breathed
blamed him for

patriarchy
rape culture
unconscious bias
his toxic masculinity is crushing all around
and killing himself

punished for looking at a woman
the wrong way
called a creeper for flirting awkwardly

taught that his impulses are wrong
his thoughts are wrong
given no role model to mold
those things into controlled tools
because his mother resents his father
turned the dagger
of blame into a double edged blade
rammed it deep in his psyche

his anger
aggression
his existence an affront on
the march of feminization
crammed in his mouth
along with the Ritalin
washed down with scorn and derision
ADHD diagnosed

he sits
internalising the disapproval of society
how he's worth nothing
that all he offers is done better
by a woman
encouraged to not even try

they demand he share his feelings
to purge his toxicity
emotional incontinence
paraded as the new norm

decides he might as well take
all the hurt
cram it into a bag of resentment
load his feelings

pull the trigger

and all the other kids in the pumped up kicks
wonder
how it happened
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