"contrarian" poems
*Do we all negate
The other—for justice or
For recognition?*
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
*
this poetess known as Elizabeth Squires
with ways of writin' by waves to admire
the one i read here caught my attention
managin' all styles of apprehensions
for i love all of her works she gets penned
i say readin' her poems i find well spent
by her, learnin' beauties of Rosarians
i dared attemptin' to the rotarian
this writin' to her, for she to inspire
seein' as one of my inspirations
it's hers becomin' as musin' impends
bein' it against or pro-contrarian
i am a fan of this amazin' ma'am
hopin' she'll keep blessin' us with her slams
**
..love always...*
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 24/04/1437
**
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 4:56 PM UTC
The relentless education machine
***** in working class heroes
and churns our middle-class drones.
How willingly they fall in line
to register for that course,
unaware that getting an 'A'
in conformity leads directly
to an 'F' in satisfaction
and a life on the treadmill
to emptiness or nowhere at all.
Become a contrarian anarchist!
Jump off while there's still time.
Run for your life while you
still have one and it's still yours.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
Black coffee
Unfiltered cigarettes
Scotch, neat
Rare steak
Then there's me.
I'm no stranger to
Wry grimaces
When I share
Or comments about
How I'm
*A snide, contrarian *******
Or
*An unapproachable ****
A snob who refuses to fraternize
Who thinks he's better than us*
And whatnot
Sure, let the reviews pile up
I've heard them all
If the taste of me makes you spew
Then walk away
And order your chai vanilla soy non-fat latte
Topped with whipped cream and cinnamon
The unadulterated stuff is
Clearly not for you.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
We experience xenogenesis
A horse births a Pegasus
Metamorphosis
Of a horse in mist
It starts to get ******
Adding its colt to its list
Of things it won't miss
Pick a side
To abide
Be a bride
Of the tide
Of our pride
That divides
Listen to me
Glisteningly
Christening thee
As all I can see
So strangers flee
Ending my need
To follow their lead
Roundtable
Clowns label
A painful angle
Of Cain and Abel
By cutting cables
Becoming stable
By turning tables
On their fellow man
Making a bellow band
Of the yellow brand
For this well of sand
Has the smell of demand
Creating the hell at hand
It's a figment
Or a signet
Of a big net
A pig let
On a rigged bet
For a jig jet
Band of brothers
Versus others
Killing colors
Paint by numbers
Tainted slumber
Heart of lumber
That they sunder
Then they wonder
Why we're under
All of their vision
Is in a jingoism
Single prism
Decision
Of derision
No precision
To their incisions
The faithful fractions
Of fateful factions
Don't face their actions
But race to reaction
At the pace of passion
To their racist bastion
Darkened tracks
Harken back
To white and black
Skies of flak
From the attacks
Of baritone blaster
Carrion caster
Natural disasters
Killing our pastors
Becoming our masters
So we'd die faster
Counterculture vultures
And contrarian poachers
Convince the loafers
They'll be heard
If they say the right word
Diamonds assured
In a deal absurd
They promise ailment mending
But it's a clever sale sending
A fairytale ending
Of only people we love
And God up above
Nodding in approval
Of the other's removal
So the problem's renewal
Is an unbreakable jewel
These xenophobic aerobics
Corroded and loaded
Us into a low den
Where we're so dead
We can't use our own head
So we make our own bed
And we make it with dread
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
An artist too lazy to make any art
So what am I?
The sleepy commitment holding your hand in public places
An enormous gratitude lounging in between spaces with a stain on her shirt
Always seeking to be the next big thing
A stoic
Unable to process any other philosophy
that doesn't kiss me when I'm nervous
Lights turning on in the afternoon
And the warm glow of knowing people are inside
There
Ready to open up the door and invite you into the individual smells that occupy their reality
I am I-don't-remember-the-city-anymore girl
Sterile buildings and antiseptic coast
Are both memory and fiction
I am everything's-sort-of-familiar and yet exactly obscure
A contrarian careful to never admit that everything
Will make sense with enough persuasion
In the corners of my mind sits a woman
Smoothing out creases of my brain like the folds on bed sheets
Or the wrinkles in a shirt
And I allow her to because I love her
And I believe that what she does is affection
And maybe I'm right
Or maybe I'm wrong and I was never an artist
But something else entirely because that's so much easier
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
Truth be told though her vassals reportedly died,
To the last man, cut down by voice and guided steel,
Left floating dismembered and forgotten,
In a duet of song and venom.
Reality spoke as a contrarian.
For you see those flowing jade robes, with emerald armor beneath.
Decided it would be wise, to don a different disguise,
I can still keep them fed, if only modestly,
My royal blood is ours, for all my family,
I am house Venom now, the last Ivy keeper.
Since boyhood brought them to me, they've graciously accepted,
What was given to them was power, it made them stronger, wiser,
Incisive enough to slice as we do through theories and viewpoints,
Less often steel upon throat than words upon logic,
Felling disobedience before points could be taken back and,
Reforged into rallying force to bring the hordes against us.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
#***
I live in a world filled with empty lies and broken promises.
People projecting a facade like cheap veneer.
And here I am, a living contrarian following popular beliefs.
A paradoxical quagmire lost in the fog
while also grabbing my hand and leading me forth with guidance***
*Wanting what I can't have
And having what I don't want*
I am a living contradiction
*Often feeling like I am a real life theatrical performance
The true meaning of comedy and tragedy
But is it all real or just the show inside my head?*
#
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 6:54 AM UTC
They speak lines in chalk and blackboard,
scolded for not following the stars, but
contrarian eyes long for lonely basement grime,
while being stuffed with plastic normalcy;
They search for a savior, an empty ivory tower
of coughed smog and candied pipe breath.
*under a dawn ocean,
we drew coastlines along maps of nowhere,
slept on the floors of skies
we didn't know the name for.*
Their love is chain links, decayed by daylight,
by a sun where only anti-rarity shines.
So slender bruises lace through skeletal smoke,
and wish for life to last just sixty years.
*we're holding tightly onto saturn,
a blooming diamond, dust ring
of the life we
don't lov*e
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Too many silly synonyms,
Easily set me off.
To hear contrarian antonyms,
Curse you! I’ve had enough!
Hell is ever penning acronyms.
Yes! And without a thesaurus.
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC
Why is it we don't want to be alone
Yet we curse and reject those waiting for us at home
Why is it we want to live free
Yet we pay for the fruit hanging from the trees
Why is it so
I don't know
We live lives of senseless contradiction
Never are we happy yet we accept our position
Its as if we don't know what we need
So we'll live our lives while our hearts bleed
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC