Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Damian Murphy Jul 2015
I would rather be
unpopular
for all the right reasons
than popular
for all the wrong ones.
Kurt Cobain "I'd rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not"
Damian Murphy Jul 2015
Each one of us is different,
Every one of us unique,
Not one of us should pass judgment,
Ill of our fellow man should speak.
For each one of us has value
that not one of us should begrudge;
To judge others says more of you
than any of those you might judge.
None of us are superior
To think so is pure arrogance,
Thinking others inferior
Highlights only your ignorance.
Jared A Washburn Jun 2015
Up went the roar of the crowd,
Ascending, volumes above, beyond
The everyday murmur of pestering silence.
A futile struggle to withstand its force,
Like a vast wave, rogue and raging,
Slamming nature, a slap in the face of feebleness,
This crowd roars…

Not anger, not anguish, or grief,
But a prideful scream of declaration;
The masses make it known, and known again,
Fists raised, pulverizing the air to a beat
Of human design, of togetherness, of solidarity
In the fight for those like us, a howl,
This crowd roars…

Stampeding feet berate the beaten earth,
Invigorated legs supporting pounding hearts,
To a beat, rolling with the flow,
Energy infusing the soul, encased in flesh, bone, and blood;
Marching onward, forward, processional strides
Declaring and making it known with battle cries,
This crowd roars…

Shouts of proclamation echo the strident resistance
With thunder, earth-quaking, walls crumbling, chains shattering
With thunder, dancing against the discordant system;
Proud warriors raising flags of protest
Amidst the roar, roister, and riots, rising reactionaries
Refusing submission, declining resignation,
This crowd roars…

Bounded together, by blood, by common cause,
Mingling masses of forgotten arise with a vocal
Outcry, intense, pulsing from the core (of us)
Like an infestation, infuriated, a torrent swarm (of us)
Flowing upwards, eroding all obstructions.
Declare, proclaim, announce, request, demand,
**This crowd roars…
Jared A Washburn Jun 2015
I praise the reveler, the passer by who stops and shouts and sings.
There is much to revel in and much to sing and adore.
I too, despite my circumstance,
Revel and reveal my self.
My identity screams it, my little soul, being not so little, leaps over the
     boundaries leaving behind dust that was once bricks.
Sparks ignite, and more revelers see me and join in.
Ignite, ignite, ignite...the fireworks of myself explode, red, gold, white,
      red again, and blue to fade in smoke; a vaporous disappearing act,
      met by applause and thunderous recognition, a standing ovation,
      reverberating to my very core.
That, too, must fade.
Fade, but not disappear.
The rumble and aftershocks echo and last; myself lasts and lasts...
epictails Jun 2015
There is no gloomy season
To a man who delights in his mind
Crazy though he may seem
His wild existence is our lesson
For even in his queerness, he shined
Living what a lot of us can only dream

Still nobody can fly to where he has flown
For they can never be as brave as he
He is a world on his own

*Unlike you and me
If I had the body of Nicki Minaj
The voice of Beyonce,
The dance moves of Ciara,
The acting skills of Cameron Diaz,
The brains of Oprah Winfrey
And the creativity of Tyler Perry,
I'd be totally FaKe!!!,Yes you got me right!
Why?because I wasn't born to be alike with anyone,
And neither were you,
So don't compare yourself to anyone,
Give yourself a break!
You're different from everyone else,so why bother being like someone else?its an impossibility anyways,.
Embrace your individuality.
Being an individual
Is questioning pubilc
Opinion in order
To gain your own stand,
You can't go on living
Life by other peoples standards,
Its just too stressful!
Make your own principles,
Your own rules and live by them
Just make sure they're wise
Enough and won't give you regrets,
Amitav Radiance May 2015
Is that you?
Standing against the whole world
You and everyone else
Difficult stand, no doubt
Feet firm on the ground of individuality
On the verge of iconoclasm
Feel the world staring at you, in disbelief
Why not conformity?
The usual stance taken by others
As if you are standing trial
Nothing seems to be convincing
Your ways do not seem trustworthy
That’s how it is, with the world
Convicted of not being a part of the whole
Standing out without remorse
It’s you against you
When the whole society will push you
Towards trials and tribulations
You have to be stronger to hold your ground
Mandee Patterson May 2015
No one person's personality is unique in any way.

If you've at some time been exposed to a television set, a film, a piece of music, a book, a magazine, or people in a closed environment, then you are not in any way, shape, or form an original person.


We are all just composites of the things we've come in contact with during our lives, we pick up the things we think we want, or need and apply them to ourselves, and sometimes it's a sham, and sometimes it feels real.

The only way to be original is to be put out of society the moment you're born, but even then you may take on the characteristics of the wildlife you come in contact with... so apparently you're ****** no matter what.

I suppose what makes a person unique is the way they mash up all the **** that they've been exposed to,
whether they do it in a somewhat original fashion, or if they do it in a way that is similar to those around them.

Societies fear those who do not take the path of least resistance, and those are the people we call "unique", "different", "ugly", "weird", "stupid", "genius", "freak", "amazing", "loser".

They're the attention getters, and those who seek to get attention.

The ones that take the easy road to be accepted, they're the one's outshined,
and they have to get revenge some way, why not talk ****?

I can say though, that I feel real, I don't feel like I'm putting up a front for anyone.
Most days I like who I am, most days I lie, most days I'm honest.

*Circa 2009
Kenna May 2015
She likes to eat nectar-
ines. In the kitchen, on a bloated
summer day.

Hair tied back and plastered
to the crown
of her forehead.  

Fingers lazily drumming out
some country
song on the  kitchen counter.

She lets the pools of sweet,
stinging nectar
and saliva linger
on her fingers and pierce
her tear ducts.

Her mama used to
tell her to eat  
like a lady.

Starched fingers,
and dry mouth.

But you just can't  be
a lady
when you're playing
God.
Next page