"conformists" poems
Intelligence is not how many pointless math things that you understand
But rather the ability to understand the people around you
Intelligence is not how many words you can spell
But being able to choose the right ones in times of need
Intelligence is not how many stupid history passages you read
But reading things that matter and have meanings; like poems
Intelligence is not leaving to be with the conformists
But being smart enough to rebel against them
Intelligence isn't going to school for years just to throw your life away
Intelligence is being able to live your life how you want to
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
Numb from the Memories
Memories of pain
Memories of sorrow
Memories of regret
Numb from Society
A Society of conformists
A Society of insecurity
A Society of restlessness
Numb from Love
Deceitful love
Temporary love
Inadequate love
Numb from You
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
You tell me nothing should ever keep me at bay
I should speak what’s on my mind
And yet you censor what I say
Conformists following their set way
Unabashedly blind
You tell me nothing should ever keep me at bay
Thoughts leaping through my head like a ballet
In an elaborate design
And yet you censor what I say
Follow the script “Hello” “Good day”
Nothing new and all will be fine
You tell me nothing should ever keep me at bay
My words are clay
Moldable, unconfined
And yet you censor what I say
This world goes by in shades of gray
My rainbow is maligned
You tell me nothing should ever keep me at bay
A̶n̶d̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶e̶n̶s̶o̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶s̶a̶y̶
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
built to be torn
grown and then chopped,
we are.
set up in a mainstream world
blindly unaware that acceptance
is just an illusion with false hype
of great importance.
with conformists scared of 'insanity'
and shunning as the cure for all fear,
individualism falls.
society mindlessly pushes difference
off a black and white cliff
to decompose in a sea of acidic hate.
just for being content with our oddities,
we are shut down like the ignorant.
oh, how unfortunate we are
to be cursed with a brain.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 5:46 PM UTC
Feathered Fiends
by Michael R. Burch
Fascists of a feather
flock together.
Alternate:
Conformists of a feather
flock together.
I came up with the "Fascists of a Feather" epigram after Donald Trump repeatedly praised authoritarian "strong men" like Vladimir Putin, Kim Jong Un, Rodrigo Duterte, Xi Jinping and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Heroic Americans fought a war against fascism and many of them paid the ultimate price, so why is Trump giving comfort to the enemy of democracy?
The alternate version of this couplet was written first and won a National Couplet Contest sponsored by the Society of Classical Poets. The couplet has now been published in one form or another on the websites of major newspapers and news services like TheHill.com, Haaretz.com (Israel), Crikey.com (Australia), Cleveland.com (as the headline of a letter to the editor), Reddit Political Humor, and Humane Conservatives Unite Blog. Sometimes the epigram is quoted in reader comments, sometimes by the writers of letters to the editor, and sometimes within articles.
Keywords/Tags: fascists, flock, together, fascism, conformists, nazis, blackshirts, brownshirts, dictator, tyrant, autocrat, despot, totalitarian, cultist, militarist
Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 12:48 AM UTC
Change tackles a broad spectrum of life.
You change your hair, you change your underwear, you change your shoes.
How the hell could someone change their Personalities in the blink of an eye.
Can some one so thoughtful and sensitive turn into such a **** with the turn of one sentence phrase and punctuation.
She storms in on her high horse ready to take the world by storm with her fury.
She may say im her world but what have i done to deserve such punishments.
I asked a Question.
The fatalities of words and sentence structures leave a gaping hole in the ego and sense of trust.
Sense of what is right and wrong cuz what is right by all does not apply to her.
Her mind twists and bends to form views and morals that not even a twisted fairy tale can concoct.
What she fights for doesnt fit the way of the world.
She believes in things that will never happen, that make no sense. She fights for views that will leave her fighting forever.
She is a non conformist but she conforms to stereotypes that go against her better thinking.
The way she used to think.
Stress has got her in a headlock, cutting off her brain's circulatory flow of intelligent words and clean blood.
She inhales.
Breathes in a mixture of smoke and unclean thoughts.
Yea, she can stop.
She's walking corruption.
Digesting poison in the pit of her stomach killing the butterflies she claim died.
Yea they died.
In a fiery pit of lies and hypocrisy that gets you nowhere.
She tells me her worst thoughts and wishes but her honesty doesnt justify the unjust actions that go against who she was.
Who is she becoming?
Someone who is dependent on drugs and drinks to make her happy Cuz she doesnt have the ***** to go against the grain and
Stick to her guns and stay clean and fresh,
Keeping her lungs pink and her brain free,
free to believe and grow with each intake of air not smoke.
I hate to see it happen but she is just like the others.
**** views take the form of rolled up paper.
Not an application but a temptation.
Non conformists need not apply.
Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 12:35 PM UTC
Here, on the flatlands
I was put in my place.
formed and pressed
into their neat and presumably safe little box.
It's all they knew.
It is so hard to think of them as once children themselves,
formed and pressed.
Formed from a different time, with different conformists.
There are no manuals when we are born,
you get leftover instructions from previous pipe fitters.
Agrarian raised, like grain fed beef.
Complete with the fears and habits of bygone generations.
I leave one bite of each item on my plate,
with just enough drink to wash it all down.
I have done that as long as I can remember.
I want the whole candy bar, rather than just a bite.
Pressed and formed my Father saves.
He saves twist ties from bread bags.
He saves old welcome mats, and garage door openers.
He buys in bulk, and has two deep freezers full.
Full of freezer burn, tasteless, barely nutritious,
neatly formed and pressed portions of frozen in time Salisbury steak.
It is as if he himself would like to be frozen in time.
He is a depressionite child.
In the basement there is an old dresser that he found at a yard sale.
He painted it a hideous green,
but it has a formed and pressed neat white little doily on top.
In the top drawer there are various expired drugstore items,
some dating as far back as 35 years ago.
"You never know when you might need something in there."
Expired aspirin that has broken down into powder and smells of vinegar.
Vicks Vaporub, in the pretty blue glass jar, that is dried up and orderless.
All brand new and have never been opened.
Formed and pressed neatly in their little containers.
I watch these molders of my life slowly pass away,
becoming neatly formed and packed into their aging corner of the world,
neatly formed and packed into a stereotypical old folks home.
Forgotten, in the way, slow, aching.
Soon all they will have will be memories.
Soon all they will need will be memories.
Neatly formed and packed in their aging minds.
And then, like a comet that has shuttled through space
for thousands of years, millions of years,
they will burn out and fade into dust.
And their whole lives
will be neatly formed and packed
away,
in a trunk
in the attic,
to be opened like a time capsule,
at a later date.
the result of a week with my 94 yr old Parents
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
You are weary, I think
Of endless puzzles and games
And short romantic flames
You have grown disenchanted
With everything
Every stupid girl and foolish fling
You are bored
Of things built upon passing waves
Of all these conformists, these slaves
You have grown spiteful
Against people whining and nagging
And keeping secrets and bragging
And you are exasperated, maybe,
With all your toys breaking
As soon as you take them out of their boxes
It may be you are sick
Of instability and castles of crumbling sand
Of things reeling and getting out of hand
You have grown impatient
With cheaters and capricious ******
Who claim they are forever yours
You are tired, perhaps
Of feeling alone
And things aching through no fault of your own
I may not be
The sturdiest thing you've ever laid eyes on
I am little, and frail
And weak and pale
And I stumble when it's windy out
But I know, without a doubt
That for you I will be strong
That I will never do you wrong
I'll keep you from going off the brink
Because you are weary, I think
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
#Anonymous (1730s ?)
In good King Charles's golden days,
When Loyalty no harm meant;
A Furious High-Church man I was,
And so I gain'd Preferment.
Unto my Flock I daily Preached,
Kings are by God appointed,
And Damn'd are those who dare resist,
Or touch the Lord's Anointed.
***And this is law, I will maintain
Unto my Dying Day, Sir.
That whatsoever King may reign,
I shall be Vicar of Bray, Sir!***
When Royal James possessed the crown,
And popery grew in fashion;
The Penal Law I hooted down,
And read the Declaration:
The Church of Rome I found would fit
Full well my Constitution,
And I had been a Jesuit,
But for the Revolution.
And this is Law, &c.
When William our Deliverer came,
To heal the Nation's Grievance,
I turned the Cat in Pan again,
And swore to him Allegiance:
Old Principles I did revoke,
Set conscience at a distance,
Passive Obedience is a Joke,
A Jest is non-resistance.
And this is Law, &c.;
When Royal Ann became our Queen,
Then Church of England's Glory,
Another face of things was seen,
And I became a Tory:
Occasional Conformists base
I Damn'd, and Moderation,
And thought the Church in danger was,
From such Prevarication.
And this is Law, &c.;
When George in Pudding time came o'er,
And Moderate Men looked big, Sir,
My Principles I changed once more,
And so became a Whig, Sir.
And thus Preferment I procured,
From our Faith's great Defender,
And almost every day abjur'd
The Pope, and the Pretender.
And this is Law, &c.;
The Illustrious House of Hanover,
And Protestant succession,
To these I lustily will swear,
Whilst they can keep possession:
For in my Faith, and Loyalty,
I never once will falter,
But George, my lawful king shall be,
Except the Times should alter.
And this is Law, &c;.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
To begin with,
We have YOU,
And we have Me.
And we also have THEM, THEY, THEIRS THOSE, WE AND US.
As well, we have:
SOGIES
Asexuals
Allies
Intersexes
Bisexuals
Lesbians
Gays
Homosexuals
Pansexuals
Queers
Straights
Heterosexuals
Gender Binaries
Afabs
Amabs
Agenders
Androgynes
Gender Blenders
Bigenders
Cisgenders
Cross-dressers
Drag Queens
Drag Kings
Enbies
Gender Dysphoria
Gender fluids
Gender Non-conformists
Gender Queers
Gender Variants
Non-Binaries
Questioners
Transgenders
Transitions
Transsexuals
Two-Sprits... and
LGBTQIA+
(Flora and Fauna?)
Does Genesis have anything right?
Nov 30, 2023
Nov 30, 2023 at 10:35 AM UTC
We get it.
You're so much more smart and philosophical,
Than any of us could ever know.
But please,
Spout off a few more lines from Henry David Thoreau.
And with your community college degree, you'll go so far,
But we'll see how little you are about your possessions when your hipster cigarettes are floating in the toilet.
And you'll smoke the best **** you're part time job can buy.
We get it.
You know everything there is to know about nothing.
And you don't conform along with all the other non conformists
As of late,
Your so oblivious to how far,
up your own *** you really are
All we want is for you to jump off of something that's as tall as your ego.
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
We're Passively going with the flow
With the resonating notion
That "maybe I should be
more like me
And less like you "
But nobody allows it
And it takes a faith
That you won't find in church
'Cause even Christians love you
Only to change you
So Destroy the subliminal slavery
And this we'll begin to see:
That Conformists will be lost
And Indiviuals will be Free
They will flourish
From every end of the earth
Doing whatever it is they desire
Without transgressing what is right.
This would be our souls' freedom
But we're outnumbered by them,
Them that are afraid of being free
Knowing well they'd really be lost.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
my brush touches on canvas
with each whipping flick, a new stroke around the curvature of your smile
i paint in shades of black, white, and gray
yet nothing gives off more color than the radiance of your joy
and nothing makes me prouder to be alive
than the moment I've made you split the creases of your cherry blossom lips
and reveal teeth as white as the clouds where you must originally be from
high up above this area of space plagued by the formulaic symmetry between conformists
those who greet the sun in the morning with the intention just to get by
no my love, you wake each sunrise with a far greater purpose
and i wake to share a piece of it with you
so we can smile together
and feel high enough to be perched on a crescent moon
as I hold you close, and point out the brilliant star you descended from
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Manufactured individualism
Quickly assimilated into societies and cultures
Conditioned to salivate uncontrollably
Whenever marketeers ring their bells;
And the conglomerates ring their hands,
Anticipating chaching, kachinging cash registers
And the ecstasy of zinged credit,
As their manipulations percolate
Through the media-saturated masses, moping
Susceptible to provocation of whims
Due to implanted inadequacies.
The child, youth - by extension, parent;
The socially inept, unconforming conformists,
All fall under the svengali-spjaller's dulcet nagging -
To Buy! Buy! See you next Tuesday, Suckers!
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Look:
There is a sadness in the eyes of conformists.
One can see the same in those convulsing radically in opposition.
The sadness comes from lingering at a window of perception for far too long.
Engage those with sadness in their eyes. Listen to them, and they will also listen.
Both will gaze through each other's windows. Each will have lent each other liberation from their chains of perception.
These are concepts to explore.
I used to spend my days people-watching.
I now spend my days window-watching.
Do not become chained to a state of sedentary perception.
Walk through the universe's gallery of windows. It is an infinite hallway.
Explore the galaxies of the minds of others.
Explore your own.
Every star is an eye, a window to a different reality.
Get up off the ground. Sit no longer at your dusty window!
I urge you to break the gaze from your oh so cherished glass.
Break your chains. Discard your burdens.
For this is the only way that you may truly explore!
This is the only way that you may truly become free.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Close your eyes for the moment.
Seeing clouds billow in the Horizon.
Smokey skies surround the light emitting from the mouths of the creative.
Punished are those who dare to shine through.
Dreams are limited in discretion but plentiful in oppression.
Keep it up kids blow past the corners.
Line up with the narrow road to the kingdom of the new world.
Tred slowly for they have not gained the momentum to catch you.
Whilst convincing them of the future trying to convert the rebels.
Conformists calculate, delegate and deliberate but none can Contaminate.
Get angry at the light hearted thoughts of going home.
Highten senses cause for unbalance within the scale of followers.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
Where has our honesty gone?
The world is spinning out of perspective
Individualists
More like conventionalists
Wanting to be a free soul
Instead, we’re losing control
How do we define different?
“Different
A pseudo-polite way of saying something is unpleasantly weird or unacceptable” [www.urbandictionary.com]
What about individual?
“individual
Individual's may actually conform, just to prove that they are individual from other individuals...
There is no definition of an individual, for to define an individual is hideously oxymoronic.” [www.urbandictionary.com]
All of these rules and ideologies
Which become more like mythologies
Giving us a…what… purpose?
Because without one were all worthless?
How does the media propel
Drive some great minds down to hell
But wait, sometimes those scars
Are not the real person they are
What about the girl next door
Is she perfect? Or is she a *****
How come the prepped up ****
Gets a thousand girls to put his ****
-Y attitude towards
What about all those hipsters
“individualists” in all their glister
PROTOTYPES
We are always followed
“To be, or not to be”
Now THAT is a real question
Why cant we all just BE
F R E E
Within our own minds
Refuse ourselves to be confined
But no matter where we go
The world will be a tv show
[scripted and masked]
Because the crazy professor who screamed in the crowd
Did a small scene from a movie out loud
And the individualist across the street
Got her haircut from Georgia O’deet
While the artist down the road
Saw his painting when it snowed
Though its obvious we refuse to admit defeat
Individual doesn’t march to its own beat
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 1:42 PM UTC
The moment I write something
and it is mainstream,
so I stood and stop,
because it's mainstream
Don't read me with wordplays
because it's too mainstream;
I just played some words,
and boom, it's mainstream
**** me with your pen
your words are mainstream,
please be deeper,
don't go mainstream
Some point in your life,
you are mainstream,
dying for attention,
when you've lost inside your mainstream
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 10:51 PM UTC
Ar ben y bryn,
There sits a paint-brush-thin monument,
A crooked rocky record built by many unwilling hands.
This cockeyed testimony announces a difficult man,
A man befriended by nature
Whose oakish form turned in opposition to his kin,
Took root on stony ground,
Prospered on infertile soil
And sheltered under nature's canopy.
Y bryn oedd ei gartref
And he lived and thrived there
To the annoyance of the conformists:
The chapel-goers, the gossipers, the rate-payers
Those who could not abide his ragged clothing,
Sweat-stewed, blood-patched remnants of cloth,
Hanging rags of garments and barely-there shoes.
Loneliness he embraced and so peace was his.
Ar y bryn fu farw.
A few feigned to mourn to satisfy their curiousity,
Wanting to view the corpse of the man on the hill,
A man who was and wasn't one of them.
And so a dissonance struck the town:
He was one of them but also one of wild nature.
He was miserably poor but enviably free.
And out of such confusion was his half-hearted monument raised.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
So Are You A Conformer...
Or A... Gangster Shot Caller... ?
Or The Type of Fast Talker...
Whose Talk Walks With Porters...
Or In Other Words Those...
Who Serve Those On Thrones...
And DON'T Walk The Walk...
of... All Their BIG Talk... !?!
Cos' It’s Clear Now That MANY...
Like To Talk Like Their Ready...
To Make Things Unsteady...
When It Comes To Our Lives...
And These Leaders Who Lie...
And Leave People Downsized...
So Of Course Run Their Gums...
About Being... " TOUGH "...
And How They'’ll Stand Up...
To Modern Systems...
... Until Money Comes... ?!?
And Then They CONFORM...
To... Walking The Walk...
of Clowning Like MORK... !?!
Or Souls Who’ve Been BOUGHT... !!!
Now I’m NOT Gonna Lie...
l’ve Conformed In My Life...
Simply To Survive...
But NOT To Make Money...
To Live Life... CORRUPTLY...
Cos' People Act Funny...
To Run With The Chumps...
Who Run Governments...
As Well As The Punks...
Within... Entertainment... !!!
Who Conform To Do Stuff...
That Clearly Corrupts...
Just Like Our Leaders...
And The Money They Love... !!!
A Thing That Makes Some...
Embrace Taking Drugs...
And Forsake What They CLAIM...
To Behave Like A Stray...
Whose Veered Off The Straight...
To Bend Like Chicanes...
And Start To Act Strange... !?!
It’s The Way of Today...
CONFORMING Away...
To New Gender Ways...
And This New Virus Strain...
That’s Caused Many Pain...
And Forced Us To Play...
The Masking Up Game... !?!
And YES I Mean ME...
Conforming To Please...
But Mainly To FEED...
And Avoid These Police...
And Having To Pay...
A Fine Or Face Jail... !!!
Because OBVIOUSLY...
I’d Rather Be FREE...
Than Face Life In Prison...
And Being Conditioned...
By Those Who ARE Villains... !!!
So CERTAIN Conformers...
Should Cut Their Talk Shorter...
Instead of Make CLAIMS...
That REBELLIOUS Ways...
Seem To Get Locked Away...
When THEY Are The Ones...
Who’ve Let Money Become...
What CONTROLS How They Live...
So Are Quick To Submit...
To New Age Politricks’...
That Shut Down Businesses... !!!
That Right Just Like THEIRS...
Because They’ve Conformed...
To Levels of Thought...
Where Cash Is The Source...
of Talk That They Court...
That Helps Them Breathe Air... ?!?
CONFORMING To Think...
In Ways That Are Linked...
To Something That STINKS... !!!
That’s RIGHT CONFORMISTS...
Who Are Clearly TOO QUICK...
To Start RUNNING THEIR LIPS... !!!
Like A Fast Mouthed Dumb Kid...
Who Cannot Raise A Fist...
Just Like John Carlos Did... !!!
A TRUE NON-Conformist... !!!
Now I’m NOTHING Like Him... !!!
But I THINK And RESIST...
Conforming Through Scripts...
And Poems I Bring...
Cos’ I’m NOT A Performer...
A Big Money Baller...
Or Gangster Shot Caller... !!!
But I Am A STRAIGHT Talker...
Whose Really NOT DOWN With...
All These NEW AGE...
..... “ Conformers “.....
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 10:01 PM UTC
I see a sadness in the eyes of conformists —
and I see that same sadness in the eyes of those
convulsing radically in opposition.
In others, and in my own.
Each are lingering at a window of perception.
As they want to be engaged, engage them.
Listen to them, and be listened to.
Both will have lent each other liberation
from their chains of perception,
because both will have gazed
through each other's windows —
I used to spend my days people-watching,
but now I spend my days window-watching.
Releasing my attachments
to states of sedentary perception.
Walking through the universe's
gallery of infinite windows.
Exploring the galaxies of the minds of others,
and exploring galaxies of my own.
Every star — an eye;
a window to another reality.
Standing up from my complacent seat!
Sitting no longer at my dusty window!
Breaking my gaze from my
oh so cherished glass!
Breaking my chains,
discarding my burdens.
This is the only way that I can truly explore!
This is the only way that I may truly be free.
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
A Poem-tribute to Star Wars.
"Those manipulating the takeover of Humanity will fail."
Catherine Austin Fitts
Forcefully
Recklessly
You’re spreading your tentacles
into galactic territories
Like a stubborn octopus falsely
Believing owning the whole sea
You spur chaos and personify chaos
To shrink the celestial Chronos
To usurp the balance of the equilibrium
But arising from the ashes of chaos
To look at you straight in the eyes
Standing flat-footed on the Eternal Light
Dusting off the false paradigm
Of life and death
The real heroes of humankind
Here they come
The rebels
The revolutionaries
The true believers
The freedom fighters
The peacebuilders
The radical thinkers
The justice warriors
The non-conformists
The non-conventionals
The Most High God worshipers.
Here they come
You enrobe yourself
With the magnificence of your pride
Skillfully branding us as the enemy
But what we see
Between the heavenly opaque veil
It’s the fall of attraction.
Your arrogance
And your self-aggrandizement
Against the Truth
Are color-coded keys to your downfall.
Here they come
Watch what happens
You didn’t see it coming.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
Have we become
So OBdurate
As to believe
Only by OBedience
Can we create
A future
Therefore all must be
OBedient servants ?
Encouraged
To OBey
Those visionaries
Who show
Through
An OBsfugated vision
Fraudulant validation
By an
OBiterdictum decree
"The OBjective
tolerates no OBjections !"
OBjugation
By those convinced
OBliging ...
Is an OBligation
Without any thought
To the OBlique they seek
To completely
OBliterate
Somehow convinced
OBlivion....
Complete OBliteration
Will heal this nation
OBlivious
To the fact
That this
OBlong view of history
And how often
We've seen this OBloquy
Cast it's shadow across nations
When OBnoxious
And OBscene inhuman beings
OBscurantist regimes
Lead their people
From OBscure into OBscurity
Wherein massive OBsequies
Are ever present
As are the OBsequious
Willing patrons
OBservable by
The nature of their ignorance
As they believe OBservance
And being an OBservant
Faithful Compatriot
Is equivalent to OBservation
Where in reality
Their darkness... so complete
They could no longer
See...the light and glory
Of the stars
From an OBservatory
Following the OBsessions
Of the exaulted Leader
They come to OBsess
Compelled
To seek and destroy
Dissenters and freethinkers
Who are to be made OBsolete
By their very existance
They are
Considered OBstacles
OBstinate non- conformists
With OBstreperous
OBstructionist agendas
Seeking to reverse course
By their Obtuse views ...
And philosophies
Believing that the Obverse
Must be seen
Or a time will come
When total OBviation
To save this nation
Becomes....
...all too...
.....OBVIOUS !!
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
Shell-cased in soft power
Arms races
Like Carter
I break it down harder
Than kami wind martyrs
With ardor of green cards
Discarded
In red
Apartheids
On the rise
To Partition again
The expendable lives
Buying lies as they trend
From the ones who pretend
Like they too
Don’t depend
On the never-ending
Yellow journalist’s
Pen
Telling them
It means war’s
‘Round the corner
Drug store
Selling them
Echo chambers
Of peace and secure
Insecurities
Dangers and angers
And more
Of the brink
Of extinction
Addiction
In sync with
The small fortune,
Scorching-earth
Failed-marriage trinket
Don’t blink
Or it’s on
To the next
Recrudescence
Perplexed
By how many world hungers
To solve
Could be left
Since the right
In its free-trading slave
Not-so hidden agenda
Still plots its crop
Stockpile
Encomienda
As super-tiendas
Wal off reservation
With always low prices
Conflating inflation
Displacing the plantation
Haitian
Still shaken
By ground-breaking
New innovation
Starvation
And scarce information
Pertaining
Distorted
Contorted, deformed
Or just goes unreported
For more entertaining
Brain-draining discordant
Conformists in torrents
Stream only the terrorized-truth
Water-boarded
Reform is aborted
The right to choose
Thwarted
The norm is a misleading,
News-feeding
Horde
I abhor
As I’ve poured it out,
Sorted out
This horrid, sordid crowd
Doubting that anything reel
Is revealed
To be real
Or just part of some heartless king’s
Artifice
Art of the Deal
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 3:49 PM UTC