"contradicting" poems
There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges,
Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies.
I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet,
Because I think that is sort of sweet;
No, I object to one kind of apology alone,
Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own.
You go to their house for a meal,
And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal;
They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests,
And they apologize publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests;
If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott,
And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot;
They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can,
But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American.
I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them,
I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them,
Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious,
And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious,
And what particularly bores me with them,
Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them,
So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf,
Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves.
23.7k
quandering, pondering
and whiskey has become
first and only desk liquor. now
digressing to the Blue Eyed
beauty writ of this the final
page of notebook. and now,
reflecting on this early hour.
an hour when the goat's
head stares thru to soul
with always lifeless eyes. stares
thru this soul with lack of
energy, with entire days'
lack of consumption. and with
ease this one has been long
and gone in falsified attraction
of angelfaced Blue Eyed
matriarch; this one patriarch.
thought entirely conceived. contrac-
epted by reality of situation. by
reality in general sense, yet words
spew unfiltered with lingering hope
behind slanted smile. shying stares,
all the while watching from eyes'
corners. voices of all but her's
fall deaf; vessels otherwise mute to
concerns not of the Blue Eye's. and
here this one finds self lost to rom-
anticized thoughts knowing they can
be found sterilized via logic.
contradicting always, yet
no brass holding finger locked to
joint. and realizations of actual
place spears forehead; spears fore-
brain. disrupting what is preconceived
concerning entangled souls. hair falling
aside temples. point of restraint, this
one must end before depression catches
hold; this one calling abrupt ending.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
I agree what her name says,
I disagree with whatever any donkey brays.
She's kindhearted and also so very gorgeous,
She has got an angelic heart.
Elsa you are one of the most beautiful poets I've ever seen,
And you just need to ignore people contradicting it as they are not free from sin.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
We are each our own moon.
Charismatic souls reflecting sunlight,
As if to illuminate a room,
We glow against black, void; an endless night.
Like a caterpillar to a butterfly, emerging from a tight knit cocoon,
Spreading each wing, confidently slicing the evening air…taking flight.
Or even a flower freshly bloomed on a midsummer’s afternoon.
The moon: a flower, silently smiling despite the plight.
Aside from what each day shuffles in; each night simmers out
No matter how often we feel we have lost ourselves…
Or leave way to fill our heads with doubt.
With recurring assumptions of a worldwide redemption:omnipotent stealth.
Needn't some take longer than others to sprout?
Staring blankly into a mirror, or a moonless night sky: hungry for answers, yet facing an empty shelf.
However, that doesn't infer we embark on a divergent route.
Simply due to lack of clarity, lack of reasoning behind each card dealt.
With that in mind,
Just as the moon,true colors may dwindle…they may fade, yet in essence are always there.
Even on a cloudy day, or when the sunshine is at its peak…and just as well for the blind.
Full moon, half moon, new moon…waxing, waning: dynamic phases the night sky shares.
Moon phases;moody faces…natures way of emphasizing personality defined.
Notwithstanding the dark side, each moon may wear.
Like a guilty pleasure manifesting in a secret shrine,
We all suppress a certain side; to pompous to face reality genuinely bare.
Fragments of our faces may always be hidden,
But there’s one thing that will never absorb into the eclipse: emotion.
Some figure each phase, each wave of vibes … simply fate already written.
Devils advocate begs to differ… let your mind emit all distraction and harmonize with the ocean.
Effervescent rays,warm barrels in which emotions, old and new, have ridden.
Chaotically contradicting thoughts, pulling and pushing, creating the paradox of serene commotion.
A world of words from each moon face: a beautiful encryption.
We are each our own moon, written in the waves, compelled by life’s devotion.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
*The rain pours heavy on my windowpanes; it is only through the darkness that I realize what pain truly means. The sorrow, the lack of luster in everyday that has changed and I fear for those who do not yet know what madness life brings. It is nothing yet everything to understand what suffering brings. The state of darkness looming upon wake, and when the dreams of your subconscious mind come to life and haunt you day by day, I fear for those who do not yet know real pain. The loss of someone you love being ripped away, so abruptly; worse than a Band-Aid on fresh wounds, so terribly worse than seeing someone you love fall deeper and deeper into the chasm of their own demons, like a well you’re drowning and eventually succumb to frightening disdain. One realizes that everything in life isn't truly the same, change is the only constant in this delirious world of contradicting facsimiles.
You have nothing but hope and faith in this world of detriment. And I hope someday you find what you're truly looking for, whether it be love or the meaning to life. But never forget who you truly are, regardless of the pain and the tears that washed away the innocence of your years and fears. I am truly sorry for what you have endured, but I cannot look back anymore, nor ponder upon those heart wrenching fears you called my own, of which I cannot call my own. You must own them like cheap records, and let them die in the night like the decades of musical loss and dying discords. You must find yourself in this beautiful world, never give up on everything wonderful. For you are worth much more than words, much more than anything I could ever endure.
© 2014 Christina Jackson*
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
I adore
I adore your laugh
Even though I've heard it twice
I adore your smile
Even though I've seen it only a few
I adore your body
Because what I have seen and felt was perfection
I adore your hands
Because they made me feel like never before
I adore your touch
It is magical
I adore your voice
Because it is like no other
I adore your scent
Because it was contradicting-sweet and bitter
But really, truly
I just adore you.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 3:46 AM UTC
this peculiar notion transmigrates into a startling potion,
one that creates, not slakes human thirst,
a consequential first position for those who are in possess
of a direct line to gods who hide in the pitch black,
perforce one must make discrete deferential inquiries
avec une politesse indirecte
just in case we are wrong
(honest aside:
as composition proceeds, ear buds fill me with
Music of Transmigration, notably Op. 11, of S. Barber making
contradicting souls passing through me tenable and malleable)
naturellment,
loud radio silence, was I naive to expect otherwise?
perhaps god is not the subject of this poem
but perhaps the author(!) who's
just keeping his "hand" in the poem game,
spoofing human memes,
with a spot of fun even in
New Z--l-and-other domiciles
after all who has more
nominalistic titles,
is cursed and blessed,
by almost everyone
at least once a day, and in
a thousand different names
with an impishly
cruel sense of what this human gig
it created.
is about
tonight
I am a composer,
tomorrow’s decomposer,
or just a funny named follower
ah,
the answer is in the
data
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
As the bliss of midnight approaches them
The clouds shed the light of a cold moon
Leading their lives together, the end is gone
And the illusion they feel,
Cannot be repeated
Drying is the fluid of love,
Solidifying and holding them still in time,
Longing for the night to persist.
They know the morning approaches,
The expectation of the sunrise means an end.
The end of night is the end of all time,
And as unfathomable as eternal endings are, it still ensues
Moon setting,
Sun rising,
The contradicting feelings swim,
Uncertain of the future their love has ended.
The bliss of her death, as the blood runs down his fingers, consumes him, and the sharp pain absorbs him.
Until the night and cold moon flash again
The two will lay with security as true as the sky is broad.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 11:00 PM UTC
**You want to read little pristine pretty posies
not get involved betwixt & ignore the thorns of life
whatcha gonna do when your scratch becomes infected
hiding in the bushes of denial will get you hives
of the contradicting type, bucking like a bronco
amidst the flowery storm clouds of refusal
riding through wild fields of four leaf clovers
on unicorns wings of phantasmal puff'd perfectly pink skies
pseudo fairy tales conjured up in the mind
never to cross the median line of reality's mock deception
swallow the chimerical pill of inauthentic utopia
just be sure your mythical allegory never plays havoc
in your secret garden of rainbow streaming sublimity,
the fall is greater from the zenith of repudiation**
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
*Oh that strange
minuscule Atom..
Atom has posed
with planets spinning
with electrons jumping
with self-contradicting
waves and photons..
These secret poses
Over a century
Reveal and conceal
An amazing truth..
Atom smiles slyly
such confusion here..
Yet now and then
A scientist is startled
By a mirror reflection
A poet Behold..
Self-knowing arrives:
My name is Atom
and long enough
have I posed…!*
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
The arms of the clock are reaching high to God
As I lay on my floor thinking in contradicting circles
Contemplating the words I need to say
To save the friendships I've just made
They're all so precious to me
But I see them slowly
Becoming less, and less
And less, and less
Interested in
Me
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
A conversation over a cup of coffee
(Sainsbury’s low quality)
The kettle burbles in the background
Bartering bubbles for blatant babbling
The granules flop, shake if they stop
Right from the top, into brown slop.
Stir with a spoon,
Stare into the eye of the storm:
Vanilla swirls, auburn curls,
Minding their manners, glances from girls.
Hazelnut eyes, thinking they’re wise.
Smile contradicting the, frankly, **** skies.
Pupils dilate,
Chalk dusted slate,
Tea leaves are telling me this must be fate
Dumb conversation,
Mind saying more,
Something unsaid seems to open a door
I’d rather its shut, its dangerous but
Sugar, im just an emotional ****
I’ll let you in, this time you win
‘Another coffee?’
You ask, with a grin.
Mar 19, 2022
Mar 19, 2022 at 9:06 AM UTC
Empty promises;
you learn to admire them in their pretty little boxes.
Wrapped in silk lies,
smoothed over with false hope and contradicting faith.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
I'm through loving you with my heart
For it expires
It expires like everything else
In my body
I want to love you with my soul
To stand the test of time
To last beyond a lifetime
I want to be able to say,
"I'm all yours."
Without anything in this universe
Contradicting my statement.
I'm all yours.
-D.D.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
why is love blind
why when inlove we always bind
to the play this game of heart and mind
on which there are no ways to you find
we dont see but we follow our feelings
we trust without hesitating
if what we do is contradicting
or just being inlove is addicting
so why are we loving if we could get blinded
on things we do for love were not guided
we suffer of being a slave of love
But still we smile even when we are treated like a grub
i guess that love is blind if following the heart
better you think of it before you start
because it will be too late once you begin
you'll get blinded within
by the love that opens your heart
blinds your sight apart
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
The world is too uncertain for us to be sure of anything. Personally I don't think there is an absolute truth. There I said it. Take me away Nietzsche, I'm with you on this one. We are all so different, all so set apart in our unique, frail and wicked mortality. To have one single frame of existence is debilitating. If this difference is so telling of our humanity then why the hell do we have truth? To what purpose? To contain and unite us despite our individuality? Suppose the truth is given this way: A newborn and a goat are expected to survive with just a small patch of grass. Which of the two gets more chance of survival and existential fulfillment? How can that be when those two are apples and oranges? Their circumstances are so opposite. How is life supposed to be fair to the newborn? I am not saying that life is fair because hell it is far from it. But do we accept that unfair principle or make our lives a little better? Will his happiness be on that grass as well? Of course not. So he looks for new ways to be happy. He has his own truth.
To this end, I have questioned everything from my faith, to myself, to people, to science even. Life grows along with time and so are our realities. This is why these past few months I've been contradicting myself to the point of thinking I've gone mad. But the fact is I've grown from these experiences of letting my two polar opposites meet. It is honestly scary when these inner voices start jabbing at you like pointed needles.I am a walking contradiction and my mind is a maze of paradoxes and questions with no answers. Eventually, I got used to this mentally exhausting activity. When something entirely different from what I believe be it an opinion, an idea, or a controversy) speaks up in my face I've learned to accept them not as the truth but as possibilities that could very well be right or wrong. I will never be always right.
People are so used to the concept of certainty that we have altogether ignored the existence of possibility. Or the gray area to which simply no one end exists. I realized that we are all predisposed to find answers, to hang on to some sort of explanation to a world so phenomenally ungraspable. It is to the detriment of our open mindedness enough for us to fabricate truths which may very well be coverups for the all too universal fear of the unknown. We are afraid of floating in the ambiguous nature of our lives that we'd rather correct this with assumptions.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
When all of a sudden,
A person makes you feel so comfortable,
That you start and end your day with them.
You have got no idea about what's going on and you end up being more than best friends.
There is this relationship,
Which is more of understanding,
More of emotions,
He knows what I want without me saying it.
The very eye contact we almost everyday avoid so that non of us could see that we adore them.
The silence is more than enough to say words.
I know you are a bit more sensitive than I'm,
I know you are a bit more hurt than I'm,
But trust me ,
I would love to heal all your pains,
I would love to spend my life with you.
But the fact is contradicting.
I know you respect me,
I know you adore me,
But at the same time you think I'm far too perfect to be with.
Which at some point hurts me.
But still there is some hope,
That one day you'll understand the love I carry in my heart for you.
I may not say things,
But I care,
I may not show,
But I feel.
This relationship is way ahead of what is called a "relationship".
It does not needs any words, any explanations.
All it needs is time,
Time which we spend together,
Emotions, emotions which are buried deep inside.
And the love , love which is in our hearts, unconditional.
And so there I'm with some hope inside, that someday you'll understand.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
High stepping, hard working,
soul stirring, black sister
Risk taker, ball breaker,
ends meat maker,
black sister
Always fixing, modeling,
leading, never contradicting,
black sister
Sparkles like Champagne
she intoxicates many men
Her search for true
freedom keeps her sane,
black sister
Special in every way not
given credit by society
But she will have her day
I am proud to be a
black sister
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC
We go deeper than we realize
Memory of us bleeding pictures heavy
Endure a number of slices from words
To assure us we are very unsteady
My soul has not stopped shaking since
You set off the earthquake that destroyed
Any defenses in okay shape
Your ripples I tried to avoid
Is it wrong to say I wish we'd never become
Friends so I would not get caught in your net
Let you entice me with flattery
Today my feet aren't getting wet
Crumbling but cannot show cracks
Taking measures so you won't decode
The variety of contradicting statements
I eagerly continue to unload
Leftovers of our romance
Strange and out of place
Feels like we are actors
Or athletes in a race
Despite the villian you see me as
I am hurting beneath my skin
Do what you like with lonely days
Jealousy predestined to creep in
Poetry too honest for you
Been a critic at best
I have found negativity can motivate
Claimed strength put to test
See you and I struggle as well
You run, catch up to my heels
There's no way you can match my pace
Tired, I let you control the steering wheel
Know exactly the right buttons to press
Tempers over edge when we fought
Dream of forgetting your incredible name
In reality mind for some reason will not
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC
CONTRADICTORY - n.anderson
by Natalie Elizabeth (Notes) on Tuesday, May 29, 2012 at 7:32pm
I'm disposable yet beautiful,
I'm discontent but content,
I'm ***** although cleaner than most.
Constantly I'm waiting for my contradictions to catch up with me.
I'm sick of life yet dying to live,
I cant get up yet I'm flying high,
I'm alive but essential parts of me are dead.
When will my head stop contradicting every feeling every thought?
I'm white but I'm black,
I'm quiet but I'm screaming,
I'm genius but incompetent
There they are again.
I'm happy but sad,
I'm ecstatic but devastated,
I'm constantly grieving but full of life,
Look at them all piling up like skulls in a pile tumbling over themselves.
I laugh but I'm in tears,
I'm lascivious, I am *** but I am distorted and putrid,
I am the essence of light but in the middle I am ink black.
My contradictions i cannot escape.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
how do you expect me
to believe i deserve better
when you’re the one proving
that i’m not worth fighting for
and don’t you even dare say
“it’s not you, it’s me”
because i know one day
you will meet a girl
and her eyes will shine like diamonds
and your heart will always
ache to be next to her
and you will do whatever it takes
to have her, no matter what
you will overcome every obstacle
to ensure that she is forever yours
so don’t even try to feed me lies like
“you are good enough”
when you’re completely contradicting that
by leaving me here broken and alone
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
He seeks truth in places of no good.
He flies high in places where others stood
Still he cries tears of perpetual sense.
A chameleon
his outer vesture cloaks his identity.
Unyielding
He plants his foot in the dirt.
Tangled vines tie his toes
contrasting his poetic prose.
Left dangling in the temptress spider lily's web
the noose tightens
as the old boy sings.
A fist with two thumbs
he raises like a martian.
Strangers illegibly write him
off.
A Jekyllish laugh
empties the mucus from his lungs.
Eons of inhaling senseless knowledge
he finds a second breathe to speak.
Words slice the web of lies
spinning silk into impenetrable pride.
Raw and uncut
his diction polishes diamonds
before were only rust.
He wakens every morning
Anew defiant face.
Contradicting himself
a joke
he cackles everyday.
The children who say he's changed
are correct.
But the chameleon found his true colors
somewhere between the lines
of white and black.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
My configuration is accelerating
Off balance with the earth's core
Dissatisfied, I try to be still
My form is hyper and energetic
Loud and obnoxious
Mistaken and exaggerated for being cruel
I only seek to harness similarities
To stand grandly, instead I appear egotistical with low self-esteem
Contradicting, no way to make sense
This is a normal place
Disconnected, I try to behave
Social skill are at low percentage
Sitting, I embrace the heckling
one hand on heart and the other on mind,
In hopes to intertwine
Take control, define the soul
Combine me into a whole
Let standards go
Carrying a presence of a mild wind breeze
Never nearing nor ending
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Have the shatering cries awoken you
Have the conscientious thoughts split you in two
Or will you shrug and let it pass
Mumbling silent "I'm glad it aint my ***
Contradicting morales give us hope
Dangling in view like a transparent rope
Instead of taking action we hessitate, stall
All the whille letting the person below fall
I however, will not run from the fight
Face down the darkness even in the shadow o f the night
I will be there to say "Hey miss,
Why are you crying
Is it cuz of all the people dying
Don't worry it won't be long
One day they will hear our sad song
They will realize what went wrong
For humanity will see us through
This I promise you"
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
Addicted to my wicked dreams
Where everything's not as it seems
All these things in my head
Wondering why you haven't left me for dead
Just like Romeo and Juliet,
This love is as tragic as it gets
Star-crossed lovers
Who only care when they're under covers
And when you sit alone at night and feel empty,
I know you feel pain and resent me
It's contradicting, what you do to me
Make me think you care
Then just flee
I wonder how you go so easily upon this
All I wanted,
Was your k i s s
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC