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Emm Aug 2014
Oh, the price to pay to be slightly different!
To slightly walk towards a different direction from the crowd
How weary it is to go slightly against conformity!
How dreary it is to go along with conformity!
The conformance that often confines one's own creativity
The solitude that goes along in breaking free
Stemming from general envy
Of a life run free
Keith W Fletcher Apr 2020
there are those that claim
that you - no you!- no you are to blame
so what is the truth?
when it really comes to be
that which was ignored..
...may have cost more
than anyone of us....
....you or I could afford

For power is often salacious
to those most most perverse
intent on halting all progression
putting the gears into reverse
meeting lawful non-conformance
with overbearing aggression
for them - any question becomes resistance
and reason for unreasonable oppression

long before ever existed our constitution
when Kingly whims were sacrosanct
John Adams spoke of that to come
as a nation of laws - not of men
And that would be great if only twer true
for so often these days and times
they don't apply to I and I
only to you and you.    

I am who you must obey  until you become I - YOU have naught to say
you must comply -you must...
"YOU MUST OBEY!
...WHAT EVER I SAY FOR YOU youyouyou to do ! you must do!"

You may have been lucky enough to claim
Wasn't here ...didn't make the rules
meaning that I'm not... I'm not... I'm not to blame
I see no unjust inequality here ... being done to you
don't blame me because I'm not you
and we are not the same
  just submit and obey ... do whatever is said
by the mini- Kings of the day
until comes that time
when there are no more"yous" to abuse
the gun barrel... seeks out a new target stance
if then and only then
my friend... you realize
what many of us already do
that as a nation of laws..
... not of men
if all men "created equal" really is true
we are all the same ...who do we blame
for having not a clue...not realizing
that we are US And I am you?
Elizabeth Jan 2014
I wish to be remembered as wise beyond my age
I wish to transfer a legacy of laughter and happiness
I wish to keep within my friends the originality I held in myself

That originality,
In a 5'1" woman it towers over McKinleys and Everests alike
It kept me from conformance
It shielded me from mainstream virtues

If nothing else, keep alive my ability to stand out
Through my laughter
Through my love
But keep in mind these things within yourself
For what be the point of my existence if I could not progress the world into a better state

As I dive into an abyss
And leave my kin
My soul missing its housing
And my fingers lose their feeling
My mind loses meaning
But my body never leaving

Just remember that as I lay dying
I wish only for my song to carry
As it resonates in liquid minds of children

As I lay dying
Carry on my verse
And recite the prose of my wisdom
For the sponges
Inspired by a quote from Walt Whitman (uncle Walt).
Traveler Mar 2015
Vaguely I recall
My thoughts before the fall
A world view
So wide yet dim
A simple conformance
To a world I was living in

And you
Chemically produced
Passion induced
Love was real
As real as a pill
Oh how I remember
The thrills

Our eyes
So bright and wide
Midnight moons
Amplified
Endless summer skies

Hearts entwined
In temporal bloom
Sat in stone
And doomed to ruin

Quickened
In love's embrace
The fires were fed
In flesh and lace

Memories infused
With the essence
Of gods
But in the end
Love was just a facade...
Traveler Tim
Re posted to 2016 Dec
Traveler Sep 2016
Vaguely I recall
My thoughts before the fall
A world view
So wide yet dim
A simple conformance
To a world I was living in

And you
Chemically produced
Passion induced
Love was real
As real as a pill
Oh how I remember
The thrills

Our eyes
So bright and wide
Midnight moons
Amplified
Endless summer skies

Hearts entwined
In temporal bloom
Sat in stone
And doomed to ruin

Quickened
In love's embrace
The fires were fed
In flesh and lace

Memories infused
With the essence
Of gods
But in the end
Love was only a facade...
Traveler Tim
2015
Ruben M Aug 2014
Our Milky Way has gotten too old,
Turned into rust by all our chemicals,
We've decayed and bent ourselves into a cold world

We are no longer acceptable...

This gravity compressed against our chests,
Hearts living in the blue,
Minds have been carrying the stress.
Putting ourselves on the line for less.

We are chemically created with the purpose of decaying.
So I'll blow onto this bullet to make a sweet symphony
Of echoing birds and the sound of the end to our pain,
Rubbing out pictures of our days,
Memories of us in daze,
Replacing them with bullets in our head



The thoughts that scream then choke,
Have evolved to the dreams that stream in hope.

Set to one limit, the line that we just crossed,
To breath dry air for the conformance that have lost.
We are an old forgotten creation.

The expectations are in our head.
...too bad we don't think the same.
thoughts creation forgotten depression
Traveler Dec 2016
Vaguely I recall
My thoughts before the fall
A world view
So wide yet dim
A simple conformance
To a world I was living in

And you
Chemically produced
Passion induced
Love was real
As real as a pill
Oh how I remember
The thrills

Our eyes
So bright and wide
Midnight moons
Amplified
Endless summer skies

Hearts entwined
In temporal bloom
Sat in stone
And doomed to ruin

Quickened
In love's embrace
The fires were fed
In flesh and lace

Memories infused
With the essence
Of gods
But in the end
Love was just a facade...
Traveler Tim
atomic blue Nov 2018
There are many ways to be a rebel,
Some quietly and independently,
Conformance to the rebel be the devil,
Ye rebels with visions of lucidity,
Thy fiery revolts at absurdity


Sam@110718
an individual dedication on the birthday of Albert Camus
Lesa Husband May 2020
Constantly consumed by containing this beast.
Contagious coughing unleashed from the east.
Calling off concerts, and companies closed.
Controlling the virus, confinement imposed.
Collective conformance to curtail the spread.
Commuting confined to Key Workers they said.
Compulsively cleaning and masks on your face.
Can’t call on or cuddle those outside your place.
Confusion, concealment and contrasting views.
Collapsing economy again on the news.
Collusion, commotion, conflicting advice.
Complaining and cusswords ‘cause nothing’s concise.
Cremations increasing, Care Homes on their knees.
Calling for caution, they’re begging you, please!
Clambering clumsily, crowds out aplenty.
Catastrophic conclusion? This is 2020.
I was tasked to write a poem with alliteration and this was my attempt.  I'm trying to be more optimistic about the future, so the ending doesn't necessarily reflect my feelings.
poetryaccident Oct 2019
A single night becomes the hinge
moving past the commonplace
with a sight that deviates
from the norm that most embrace

beyond the drone of the days
where conformance brings dismay
put aside in truth’s pursuit
of relevance by joy’s display

testimony of what should be
imagined in the realm of dreams
realized without regret
then voiced to others as consequence

the promise made stakes a claim
‘if only this were every day”
now gods have heard the call
in depths of night to the beyond.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191005.
The poem “A Single Night” was inspired by remarks made by the poet at two events, occasions that featured stepping out in a trans persona.

— The End —