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"conformities" poems
‘Twas during inner turmoil that a certain yearning arose Whispers of breakage reaching deeper as time goes From the disillusionment of reality it was forged Of seething rage the desires hunger gorged In following certain conformities felt like being a prisoner The will to resist the motions of many being aimed to muster To not be like a tree that has to be cut or uprooted just to move To be driven by reasons that to only ones viewpoint can behoove Looking at another view of the coming uncertainty As a pathway to many possibilities with regards to unpredictability That stopping a tragedy is sometimes not the thing to do Lest one forgets that the phoenix must burn down to rise anew Or that Ragnarok is followed by a great rebirth Who can know what revelations a raging flood might unearth? Being lost might as well be the way to find an elusive longing The remedy to the Anhedonia closely and ominously looming When being chained to the rhythm just compares to an inner futile feeling Knowing that a greater horizon is missed by the act of settling A bet on the odds that epiphany might be found in whatever form To behold serendipity actually being brought by the coming inner storm In using the great idleness to plan the restoring of a balance And to see clearly without the feeling of rushing pressure and turbulence The path and pace may change to the deeper quest not yet ceased In bringing forth the long sought betterment through a cataclysmic release.
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
Cataclysmic Release
Why attempt to claim the moral high ground When your pathetic argument holds no sway Why march to war with the rebel bound In the uncommon disposition of yesterday Why hold pretentious personality When acceptance is based on adaptation A pyramid scheme brings fatality To your pseudo-martyr nation Unwarranted non cooperation With the voices of the future Speak without brainwashed sedation And unravel your poisoned sutures Your self proclaimed image of authority Is unwanted within the confines of freedom You back a mentality of all encompassing conformities When the generation of today can't see them Your hubris lacks the willingness to act Yet you call yourself Ole-Times-Hardened And the simple depressing fact Is that your ignorance cannot be pardoned Leave while you hold a handful of passion Before it is lost in the folds of time Because dignity with age is not everlasting You are but another one track mind Whether or not you care to move forward The world turns on an invisible axis There is always a new world order And living life requires emotional taxes So be willing to express and voice opinions wholly But like many lost souls before you say Wander unknown territories carefully Because the past is lost with today
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Genreration Insurrection
I look out in wonder as my story unfolds However I try, I fit no mold I try to conform, only to witness a storm So great a weight, on so small a form I keep true to self and let belief ensue For why should conformities dull my hue The questions afloat, the answers unfound They say when one is lost, one is found
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 2:47 AM UTC
Fit No Mold
The beat, the snare, the drum Starting in at the floor and flying to my brain **** all the people who say I’m numb I’m sane, oh so sane! My thinking, once a cloudy, congested, coagulate of incoherent thoughts, Now flows free from its once catastrophically, closed chasm, Bringing fourth meaningless, mindless motions and movements, Showing all, that you are who you are, don’t be afraid to fall. As the smoke clears, the crystallized casts of crushing vocals Radiate to my ears; all we hear is the hate, the hassle, the hustle The bustle. Look beyond what has spawned to see what you find fond. Blinded we remain; we fight, frightened and furious against this foe. Conformity hinders our ability to show individuality. They attack us With ambidexterity to keep us statues of our own subconscious design, Yet we continue to follow these wrongly deified prodigies. They’re using Us as antibodies to cleanse what are others conformities. Enlightened I will stay to ensure Elysium for my fellow enthusiasts. Free from these prodigies, my persistence will not fade To grey, black, white, withered, wretched wasted thoughts. My mind is free, my soul deep, this music is the up-beat.
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Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 5:03 AM UTC
Music and Government
Bound by society, Trying to free her wings Balancing truth with conformities Leaving her hung like a child on a swing. Torn by expectations, Each piece a clue to her mind Ragged in clothes not hers, but theirs Bearing with them, of her, no sign. Leaving it, she'd attempted, 'Integrate', they said 'Lose yourself, to join us' They could've said instead.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
Her own being
I know when I am going to write I start to shake with anticipation so I sit down and just let it out the sweet convexities of my art The corrugations line by line the interlace of feelings to words sometimes with masculine intent without any dappled conformities I have no choice but to continue being the narcissistic kind so I will write with love and pain with smiles and tears, line by line By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Line By Line
A seven letter imperfection is its perfections. You see it's not even nor hole just in its prime waiting to come alive. We a lot like perfect prime a seven letter perfection trying not to be that one imperfection. It's okay to be seven letter prime. See if your even then you just like all the other Guys. You've been around for long. Suit and tie that's your song. Laid up late worrying about the bills you have to pay and all the people that get in your way. This world is harsh. It cuts you down puts you in your place,it's all around, it Consumes who we are and before you know it Your the seven letter prime still patiently waiting to feel alive. we told from a young age different is wrong, normally looked down , frowned upon. Don't think out the box, Dont love the different colours because your family won't like that. We told who we must be. To be prime is just not what you want to be. To be whole and equal and fully fair. That's who you are to be. Not prime and different then you weird and artistic. To hell with the world and the Conformities they create. Be prime, be out there, be happy, think out the square.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 5:03 PM UTC
Flower child happy