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#rebellious
Was it their fault? Were they in the wrong? She made her choice Was it their responsibility? She thought it through Were they supposed to control that? They did everything right But some things are out of their control Can they be responsible for everything? She didn't follow in their footsteps Instead She turned away She went against her upbringing It saddened them They tried to bring her back Yet she would not return 'Where is justice?' She would ask But she'd never listen Then she fell Well, She jumped She tried to escape their loving hands Forever But failed Thank goodness It couldn't have been their fault But they would have felt it Nonetheless They still feel it now But they will And so will she I hope
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Nov 12, 2024
Nov 12, 2024 at 1:55 AM UTC
Thank Goodness
Rebellious in love... you are ... different ... Yes you are ... dancer... professional... danced well ... perfectly ... on my feelings... and my heartbeat ... yes you are different... nobody looks like you ... only you ... who captured my heart ... and all my thoughts ... it just be ... only you ... it's you my love ... Yes ... O you ... the thief of my night ... even ... it's you ... in all of my poems ... writing you ... as the love ... that never to be end ... forever ... yes sweetheart ... you different ... you never be like others ... no body like you ... brave ... rebellious in love ... crazy lover ... you are ... as me ... hazem al ...
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Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 3:36 AM UTC
Rebellious in love...
Whenever the mist of pain and torment loomed; And my already broken heart, dashed to pieces You picked them all and glued them back together, mother You helped me to resurge, with thousands of amorous kisses When I was surrounded by deep blue silences and my heart cried in pain You wept my ocean of tears but, you never shed one The excruciating pain of my life, was hurting you too But you always said, ‘My love, the struggles have just begun’ Beneath the tender look, your ardent black eyes beamed rebelliousness I know that you wanted me to be the woman you never got to be And so, as a present on your birthday, I make you a promise That I will always be in the shelter of your arms; I will be the woman you want me to be and nothing will ever sunder you and me.
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Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 3:47 AM UTC
'A birthday poem for my mother'
Just like the full moon To me, you are a boon, What have I done till now, if it wasn't for you With the ending month of June, You approaching as rain first due. You are amazing, you are one of  those few, Precious, rebellious, and always new.
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Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 1:08 AM UTC
Moon-A boon
rebellious dark clouds, took the full moon their captive; rains freed her quick!
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC
clouds ambush the moon
Be vigilant. The dark is coming. 'Stay silent' he said. They almost listened. 'Wrap yourself in the coldness of our words' and in his voice was a touch of danger. They almost fell. Almost gave in. The world became like a glacier of shapes. Always seeking to fit within the assorted mess of notions and opinions. 'Forget grace' they told us. 'Praise hate' they commanded us. 'Love death' they spoke in unison. But... we are not a wall to be broken down on your insistence. We are not a voice to be calmed just because you think you are a storm. Should we be silent against the false preachers of lies and guile? Or are we going to stand firm, each life a block against the tides of stoic insistence? We will not shame ourselves any longer. Our voice will be like God's own voice. Our rhythm will fall into truth. Our form will fly into the sky, abandoning your need to satisfy the greedy and lazy digits of material plains of death and destruction. Ah... tell us to shut up one more time. See then how loud our words can go.
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Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
Silence is brazen
It looks so cavalier but it smells just like rebellion. Alcohol cannot conceal insincere intention. I like it, though. It suits you well. But before you begin to boast; remember that liquid confidence lasts for a night at most.
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 9:35 AM UTC
Liquid Luck
She downed wine bottles to the last drop, Smoked cigarettes like her life depended on it, And took her good night’s sleep in the day Until streetlights become her sunrise. She never thought about tomorrow; For her, there was only today. She didn’t believe in yesterdays either, Because every time she woke up Last night’s memories become blurs That she could not make sense of. Sometimes she smelled like a million dollars, Sometimes like morning breath and alcohol. She was like a thought passing by– Within arm’s reach but still intangible. Strangers line up to unwrap and taste; She is savored for a moment, And forgotten the next– Another flavor confused with many others. She gave pieces of herself away like candy, And sometimes I wonder If she still has enough of herself left. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she looks for pieces she could use To fill her hollow gaps Every night she goes into town. She was the blooming child of “Maybe” and “Why,” Wilting, but still alive, Still taking in the air Even when it reeks of tobacco, Still taking in the water Even when it’s mixed with alcohol, Still living in the now while she can. Maybe “now” is all that she has left, And maybe she doesn’t know what to do with it.
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:06 PM UTC
Wildflower
You were the delicious taste of sin, Resting softly upon my tongue, My ***** lips savoring the profanity of you. I swallowed you in one drink, finally Erasing all that once pervaded my mind, Blissfully clearing my conscience of all your evil. I made myself be the proud sinner, Conscious and rebellious Against the god that made us. Not you, honey.
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Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
taste of sin
I think you’ve got an imaginary gun against your head Because you want to paint the walls in brains and red. A gun is not a paintbrush that you use when your heart is in distress, There are a few things that will numb the pain Like a few pills or a toxic shot to the brain. Just remember that after you ***** on the ground And your screams no longer make a sound, A packet of spearmint gum will be passed around.
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Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 1:05 PM UTC
Spearmint Gum
They said To let nature take its course But she Did not want to sit still They said That what will be, will be But she Did not let it be They said Not to hurt yourself But she Love jumping into bottomless pits They said To let your heart decide But she Still kept choosing to do what's right Even when all she wants to do Is to be brave And put up a rebellious fight
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
Rebel|lious
my heart is a bohemian its authenticity drips like a wet paintbrush clothing the worlds pale canvas with colours each colour is hated for its self reflection its outlook on this planet has brought the ones who roam it to look within for their inner quintessence. - t.m
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Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
attire (verse two)
my heart is a rebel to this world like liquid overflowing pouring over and clothing the exterior my love leads the way and this world follows. - t.m
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Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
attire
based on the song by Bruce Cockburn Maybe the poet is old, But they won't do as they're told Maybe the poet is young But her words you should not shun, Maybe the poet is free Are you blind and do not see? Maybe the poet's a Slave But those white flags won't be waved! Maybe the poet is saved Maybe the poet's a knave But he'll shout unto the grave! Black or white,  or coffee brown His words will stay... they'll stick around Tan or beige, russet red You will recall what's been said It will play all through your head She will speak until she's she's dead! Maybe the poet is rich And is sitting by a beach Maybe the poet is poor But her words you'll hear for sure Maybe ill with no cure Though she's dead she will endure Homeless woman, wealthy man They won't do as you have planned They won't play on with the band They'll be strong and take a stand They'll holler til you understand! They won't have a TV show Won't be on your radio But the word of mouth will go Be it fast or be it slow They may be killed, they may be shot They will speak TRUTH! THEY CAN'T BE BOUGHT! Ignominy may be their lot *But they will produce some thought!* Maybe the voice of The Spirit In which case you'd better hear it! You may not touch it. Can't get near it. Please don't expect applause Don't find rejection odd... For it is the Words of God. SoulSurvivor (C) 7/16/2016
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
Maybe the Poet
My lofty dreams drink your poison The sermon hides all talk of lust **** it! Drown it! Strangle it. How can I ? How must I ? Do such tortuous actions My conscious thinks of you in the mist Closed doors..... In hazy heights Green mountains under the pitch black glow - wrapped in a single cloth Breathing the puff smoke I shut the door Close the tailored book Walk out in my fitted gown. Sunday school taught me repression And my succession to my thoughts was one thing - action Primed, pinned, and pointed to order In orderly fashion I defied my fathers crime Created bedding to sleep on Encrusted with words, " You're the creator of your own creation" Finding....... My chipped cross, crippled slipped underneath the crooked bed Your lips were spongy delights of chaos I wanted to grip to Diving in the pool naked felt like a temptuous sin My guardian was me I found you by the darkened pond bellowing and I gripped you Casting my light And you never said a word But together we drank the blackened pond liquid And scratched our skin with empty words, hoping we knew ...... We knew, what we were taking each other's hearts for.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
Limitless
dear society, i will no longer listen to your lies and rules that i'm supposed to follow because all they've brought was cries and sorrow i will no longer try to be the perfect girl you expect me to be now i'm going to face reality and do things my way i'm really sorry to say but i thank you on today for every terrible thing you've done to me and don't worry it only made me stronger than i'll ever be so i thank you on today, but sadly i can't stay because i'm facing reality and doing things my way.
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Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
r e b e l
*"we were brave,                         for all the wrong reasons"*
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
Reckless
While a young lad As a passing fad Rebellious,he allowed A love making etched On his arm, For saw no he Any harm! Now cool He considers Himself a fool A responsible father And a loving husband At a loss That tattoo Where to hide! Without putting off The light Or unless His children are out of sight He can't go to bed at night Or take a shower At day hour. So, twice think Before you ink! Don't also  for good ware Your lover's name Together you may not finish The game!
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Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC
Think before you ink!
They say we're ****** up They believe there's no hope for us They think we need help They know we're out of control. Our problems seem fickle To them Our worries and insecurities A passing phase When we fight and defend Ourselves Rebellious and hellish Is what we seem Though really all we want is Independence and A sense of respect In a world that's against us The forlorn teens bottling it in.
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Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
Therapy
She did not keep the peace, was not the conformist in silence, was not a normal person. She was the rebellious martyr filled with centuries upon centuries of the world's anger and trash. She did not yield for a rule, never stormed for the greater good of currency, and was born to die. But of course, not before she recieved what she thrived for.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
The Martyr