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oblivion (Remove filter)

Hiroshima

I’ve got the perfect excuse:

I wasn’t there, I am too young,

I don’t speak the language,

And would have been too far away.

Perfect, but nothing like good enough.

In life’s harsh light, we were all there;

Young, old, dead, alive or unborn:

We all know what happened.

Condemned to be cogs in the machine,

Nobody can do the dodge now;

No one can hide and say

‘It’s nothi...

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🌷(9)

nuclear waroblivionhiroshima

Caucus

Middle Americans, in their homely way,

Are often overheard to say:

'I was just goofing around.'

They goof and they goof and they goof,

And sometimes they goof a little more.

And then we get Donald Trump.

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USAoblivion

Eighty

at rest at last

she sees no light

finally gave up without a fight

 

left no partner

or one to mourn

her destiny beneath stone and lawn

 

how did she live

for eighty years

yet leave behind a dearth of tears?

 

or is there life

beyond this vale

that gives a meaning to her tale?

 

maybe she got

her just dessert

to make up for a life of hurt

 

...

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🌷(1)

deathheavenoblivioninequitycompensationdecay

Bubble Of Oblivion

Honey glazed canopies 
Shelter you and me 
From the piercing rays 
Of the sun, governing us in dismay
As we remain ensnared
In our reveries,
Oblivious and unaware,
Our fantasies as fickle as the breeze.
Perhaps it's not always a sin
To stay confined within
The bubble of oblivion;
To wear an armour of neon;
To shield our eyes
With rose-tinted glasses;
To sing with illusory passerines-
...

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worldoblivionbubblePoetryrose-coloured glasses

Oblivion

Chasing wonders,
With a pen and a paper,
An empty sheet,
A piece of oblivion.

 

Staring blankly,
Eyes lost in the wilderness,
Once with a blink,
A whimper towards nothing.

 

Looking around,
Inside a four-cornered room,
Pastel purples,
In between the white curtains.

 

Oblivion,
Running strokes on the paper,
A pen and ink,
Breaking the bars of this cage.

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freedomindifferencelifemotivationoblivionremember

Tramp

I am the one you kick cans at as you pass me in the street.

I am the one with the dirty hair and the scruffy clothes.

I am the one you cower from and snarl at as you pass my feet.

I am the one you pretend you can’t hear or blatantly ignore as I mutter ‘Spare change please’.

 

I was like you once I had a home, a family a smile. Now I have my dog.

I fought for the country ...

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tramparmy daysoblivionfearcold

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