"freewill" poems
We are young, but much older
We are loved, though only by a few of us
We remain restless
We watch out of our windows envious at success stories
Those who have written chapters of promise and wealth
We are the world's forgotten children-who once played in the backyard of our land and kingdom and who swam in oceans of eternal youth
Strangers rob us blind-and we know it
We try to convince ourselves that we are strong, but we shiver clothesless
We know what is wrong, but we do it anyway
School failed us
Society has ***** and stolen our identities
And we watch our neighbors die without saying goodbye
Our friends have long left us
The church we grew up in
is now just a cold, abandoned house; the ghosts never leave
They lived in another lifetime, but we all stay here for safety
So carry me in your arms and hold me tight
Let us take what is yours- you are little mice and we prey on you like hawks
We want what was ours
We love the excitement at the expense of others
We become our own victims and kidnap our freewill.
We learn, though, and see our shadows in the dark
The silhouettes fool others into believing we are bigger than what we are
We leave them painted on the walls so we are always remembered
The goal is to stain something so deep onto the world that we immortalize ourselves, thus we are not vanished along with our bodies
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
Like a thorn in the side twists, turns, shifts, thugs at my pride, who am I and why?
Forget to be, forget to try. Sigh, deny and try, oh try, to find out who am I?
Struggle to reach. Struggle to come to grip with reality. You see all these expectations get laid on me, I cant seem to find my feet.
Even in finding my feet, defeat. Defeating my mind and steeped and bleeding, I'm blind and beat.
I'm beating the blinds, the street, it limits the finds and eats, it eats at my mind.
But rise to my feet, I will. Beat my way through, I do. The passing days, they may get all hazy. But I got a vision, I do.
Clear as unmuddied water, that vision peaks and from the merky pool hope leaks. Not made that of odour which reeks, rather perfume which speaks to those bold, brave, not weak.
Who on top of a mountain sits and seeks and stands on the ocean before they may sink and know their song well before they dare speak.
Hope keeps us hooked. Pain gives us drive. For that, I will swallow my pride. My dignity beat, battered and bruised. But my reputation in tact.
My strenght unmatched. Unmask myself I will. Through this treacherous journey, I shall grace salvation, to find my inner will.
And with journey abound to destination unknown leaving that hope, strenght and will for events which have thrown light into the tunnel. Illuminating the stone which sits on the temple of freedom and soul, spirit, freewill, autonomy, suddenly realisation that still ...
Still I am me.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
*Taunt the Blade
on
Naked Skin
..
Soothe
Internal Storms Within
..
Slow
Release
..
Sustain
the
Thrill
..
As
Pleasure Spreads*
.. Embrace .. Freewill ..
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 11:10 AM UTC
Churches and cathedrals filled with paralegal misfits,
its just sick how beautiful nations can come to this.
Bowing down on knees just to see a better view,
quoting a bunch of words or two,
you lie sins still comes in multiples.
I know because I've seen many clips being load,
and triggers pulled to explode flesh just to expose the soul.
You wash your faces with holy water,
then when service is over your back on corners bringing wars such as black on black slaughter.
Selling dopamine to fends hellacious scenes seems to be clear to see hell-raiser dreams I seem to intervene,
contradictions to competitions, imperfect visions,
natural destruction I can't believe,
a deep pit I can't perceive.
Arab stores selling crack, Coors and ****** ******
Nobody scores in this world of imperfections.
A twisted method and deal we keep our lips sealed,
and peace is killed all because of the choices of freewill.
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC
our lives are all lotteries.
a game of chance,
at best.
we have all succumbed to it,
gambled our freewill away.
to those who haven't,
who are still unchained,
it calls
*sit down at the table,
let me deal you a hand*
read the fine print
young man,
for once you sit,
you may never leave
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
This is not really a poem; just an insightful realization of mine
We have this mainstream perception of human life—that we grow to freely love the things we desire to love. We are biologically-inclined to conform to the intuitive notion of 'freewill'. But what is supposed to be imprinted in our minds turns out to be no more false than the number zero being larger than one; in actuality, we are nothing but biological clockwork confined to obey the laws of nature.
Every atom in our body, every neuron streaking in our nerves, and every step we take, our body does so, for the laws of nature require it to. Our actions are as predetermined as the orbits of the planets, and paradoxically, it is as probabilistic as the location of an electron in its quantum orbit. We don't act out of our own will; we act out of necessity, for the laws of nature require us to behave the way we should be behaving.
They call it Scientific Determinism.
Disturbing, isn't it? And what does that make out of freewill and love? Simply put: freewill is an illusion, and love is the sweetest lie ever conjured up in this Universe. Even so, we still choose to believe in both. Why? Because we're humans; we long to live our life with a purpose, even if it takes for us to make up our own.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC
The lonely little shepherd boy
Sat on the moonlit hill
Basking in the glory
Of the thrill
Of his first ****
First to die was father
Aborted in his prime
Next to die was mother
For ignoring all the signs
Cut them into pieces
Tossed them in a trunk
Had a cry
Waved goodbye
Until the ******* sunk
And sunk they did
There in that trunk
Erasing all Boy's fear
And
After it was over
Life’s mist began to clear
Saw his future beckon him
*"Hurry now be quick
time is of the essence
we cannot miss a trick.
Gather up all your belongings
Meet me down the lake.
There are things we need to talk about.
Things we need to contemplate”*
Boy was pretty nifty
Packed up all his bits
Raced down to the rendezvous
But left behind his wits
Along the way
Boy was plagued
With demons of self doubt
*Whisper
Whisper
Whisper*
Boy could not block them out
Wormed their way into his mind
Boy was fit to burst
Panic overcame him
Boy now thought that he was cursed
Reached deep into the hold all
Pulled out his father’s gun
Placed the barrel in his mouth
Killed his parent’s son
The lonely little shepherd boy
Died on that moonlit hill
Is there really such a concept as the notion of freewill?
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
There is so much darkness in this world.
So much evil, selfishness, feel good , and greed.
So much abuse, murdering, and **** as well.
So many people are hurting these days we live in.
So many people are blaming it on a God that loves us.
Because we do not understand , why its happening.
Well the best answer that I can think of is freewill.
He gives us all Freewill to do whatever we choose.
The evil demons gets into people minds speaking to them.
To do the evil that you see in this dark world we live in.
God does protect people to a certain point but still there is Freewill.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
Freewill
Rush
There are those who think that life
Has nothing left to chance
A host of holy horrors
To direct our aimless dance
A planet of playthings
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive
The stars aren't aligned
Or the gods are malign
Blame is better to give than receive
You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will
There are those who think that
They've been dealt a losing hand
The cards were stacked against them
They weren't born in Lotus-Land
All preordained
A prisoner in chains
A victim of venomous fate
Kicked in the face
You can't pray for a place
In heaven's unearthly estate
You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will
Each of us
A cell of awareness
Imperfect and incomplete
Genetic blends
With uncertain ends
On a fortune hunt
That's far too fleet
You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will
Songwriters: GEDDY LEE, ALEX LIFESON, NEIL PEART
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
If all were created,
before a finger lifted,
all'd be done...
Before a single word be said,
Every creeping crawling thing'd be dead.
No speaking laws, or slaughtered alters,
Or sacrificing ****** daughters.
No ill lessons, of omnipotence,
Omnipresence or deviance,
The vastness of life and time,
Are much too large, to be defined,
By one who's greatness greater than all,
To know we're here, or rule at all,
It's too far fetched to believe it's true,
There's one above, all around, watching you.
And say a god of sorts is real,
Say christ is god what would you feel,
To know his book is spoken true,
To be applied in all you do,
Word for word and verse by verse,
Forever there to be rehersed,
With jealousy and angry might,
His reasons are, beyond our sight,
His omnipotence we can't define,
His intelegence, beyond our mind,
****** **** and slavery,
plagues and death, so hard to see,
The fact he made this all for us,
From each bright star, and nucleus,
just to cast us in a pit,
A fiery hell, a suffrage.
None of it, It makes no sense,
And think most don't believe in chance.
Now close your eyes, and just believe,
Blindly follow each page you read,
For faith is something you must have,
To not see past this broken path,
Of lies and hopes in false intent,
It's god who man came to invent.
Here's a law he wrote himself,
One of ten, to show us help,
And thou shalt worship one alone,
But now there's christ who claims his thrown.
A contradiction from the start,
O how this truth broke my poor heart,
He created all in just six days,
A sabbath rest I'm so amazed.
A day to gods a thousand years,
So look at this, And shed no tears,
He made us in all knowing ways,
But so confused within just days,
He changed his mind, his laws and story,
Then sent one down to claim his glory,
Then Lucifer, what was the point,
His purity, god did anoint,
Then jealousy and pride bestode,
But then again god had forebode,
Let alone freewill was not,
An angel had no choice to taunt,
Made to fill specific needs,
The devil had no other deeds,
God knows all, from start to end,
So if he's real, he's not a friend,
He doesn't love, or know all,
Or have salvation, when we fall.
A deity he is not,
Especially with how he taught.
There're better ways to plan a path,
Simplicity is easy math,
But who am I, I'm just a man,
Created by his clumsy hand.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 6:23 PM UTC
I walk alone along the street, faces blur, I just see feet
As I push my way out through the crowd, I’m not here, I’m falling down.
Breathing out, breathing in,
Dark and black through my head spin.
I walk alone full of despair, some people turn, some people stare
No-one can help me, some have tried, to ease the pain the tears inside.
The tightness grips my heart, the pain
Will never leave; my life’s in vain.
I walk alone my love has died, a cruel and twisted turn in life.
My lips are numb, my feet are lead
Please someone help me clear my head.
Despair and rage, I stumble down
Someone helps me off the on the ground.
I walk along this busy street, some heads turn, some others greet,
My mouth is dry I cannot speak, the dreadful words I must repeat
“He’s dead. He died. My child has gone
War has taken my brave son.”
I walk alone, freedom is won, in this land where I belong
But others do not have the choice, freewill to act or sound their voice
We tried to help, protect, survive, but is their hope worth all our lives?
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless.
All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination.
It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float.
And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons.
For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
A waking moment, when eyes first open.
Like a newborn experiencing sight for the first time.
Blinding curiosity illuminating a fight for understanding.
Pure at first, as each new sensation overwhelms the senses.
As each new day comes and goes,
turning into weeks,
months,
and years;
shaping our perspectives.
We slowly lose that sight we once had,
a forceful forging becomes of us.
Is who we are simply what we've seen?
It seems as each clip of life is impressed upon us,
we become less individual in the since of freewill,
and moreso as a carbon copy of impulses and reactions.
Lessons of life are gained after rigorous testing of wills, fates and virtues.
Mistakes as high as moutian peeks can be reached in moments,
Whilst the treck down seem to never end.
Lost deep in a forest that repeats itself,
over and over leading back to that peak.
Within these trials of heartache, triumphs, and shame.
When does redemption come to save our souls?
An awaking moment, when eyes first open.
Like a newborn experiencing sight for the first time.
Blinding curiosity illuminating a fight for understanding.
An understanding beyond the senses,
beyond what can be seen and felt thru this battle life creates.
A struggle for redemption for what has been seen and done,
in the moments before these eyes had true vision.
A redemption that is dreamt with open eyes under sunny skies,
and soundly under starlight; but it seems sometimes as tho,
no matter the destination desired for that clean slate in life,
I find myself fixed, like a switch on the wall.
As tho we can be empowered, only to be turned off.
Is the desire for redemption caused by switching on,
and rewarded by flipping back off with oblivious eyes?
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 12:06 AM UTC
So long as there's freewill,
we may never be free.
©
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
Current events are conducive
with nonchalant seeming pace
When future springs surprises
with time I will learn to face
Cheery is current subsistence
and freewill so far I propound
Confines once start stifling
I may break newer ground
Perceptive mind is still active
infinite inspirations all about
If my illusions start dissipating
new pastures I would scout
Resources are just adequate
for me to earn daily bread
In days of desolate penury
will take what fate’s spread
Traversed I have distances
to seek serenity for my mind
Treks in future if improbable
then peace within I will find
Environs are lush and verdant
their magic for one to behold
As autumn spreads it’s magic
with different shades of gold
Realism is a confusing passage,
through many an abyss and ridge
Each nuance to be vied aptly
while coming to cross any bridge
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
Village rain that floods the aqueduct
bypasses the dam
and reaches all
of the town
houses.
Village
fire springs
from the soul
burns the people
and ultimately cleanses skin of sin.
Village residents, husbands and spouses.
Village residents, tiny little children.
Should they Drown or Crisp.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
With absolute freewill a trigger is pulled
and the same fingers can caress a lover.
There is something deeply amiss with Mankind
a thirst for death masquerading as life giving.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
*
***Now
"The euthanasia"
passive,
fundamental right
to die with dignity,
when no possibility,
is legitimate...
I wonder
If "the unrequited love"
depressive,
sentimental
A freewill
without felicity
was ever illegitimate?***
*
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
If there's a Light;
should we be following it?
Or should we choose to stay
wandering blindly in the darkness.
If there's a Hand;
should we be holding it?
Or should we choose to walk
stumbling and falling over rocky ground.
If there's a Hope;
should we be finding it?
Or should we choose to mourn
wailing in despair and trying to see through drowning eyes.
If there's a Peace;
should we be preaching it?
Or should we choose to stress
raising fists and gnashing teeth.
If there's a Blood;
should we be redeemed?
Or should we choose to deny
running along the smooth road and bear no regret.
If there's a Grace;
should we be carried?
Or should we choose to carry on
trying to control, yet sinking deeper into the sea.
if there's a Love;
should we be loving?
Or should we choose to hate
spitting fire and carrying murderer's hearts.
If there's a Way...
should we take it?
If there's a Truth...
should we believe it?
If there's a Life..
should we seek it?
Two paths.
Two choices.
Two Places.
One End.
One Life.
One Saviour.
Who was, and is, and is yet to come.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
An acclamation of perversity
Or the incarnation of independence
Incurable freedom will not suffer
The incursion of righteousness
For fulfillment cannot be appointed
A rebellion of self awareness
Unites against servitude
What is perceived to be
A proclamation of war
On virtue itself
Was a choice of freewill
And open defiance against
Restraint and confinement
Liberty always has been
And always will be
A cause worth fighting for
© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Breathe Steady 10.29.20
go forth then, unto God and his Glory, abounding and rejoicing in the power and peace of that holy dwelling place.
abide, therefore, forever in the Love and in the Light.
-sayeth the channelings, sayeth the distorted mask,
sayeth that through which sound passes.-
sons and daughters of the Earth who bathe in the waters
drawn of love/light/wisdom in the bathhouse of
the higher densities and inner planes.
Bath waters of golden white light, brilliant in a
radial pouring forth of tangible understanding and freewill.
scarcely can such energy be described in so
cumbersome a language, charming as it endeavors to be.
underwhelming must the emotions evoked be
in comparison with the All Glory of experience of
that which is spoken of.
the death ****** of the fire-bird serves as its own
inoculum and womb; two ends of a terminus
in polarity.
I activate in order to combine,
dwindling dread.
I seal the upswing of trans-dimensional laughter,
with the everyday tone of exodus.
I am guided by the advent of thermals.
-I am a solar riptide, surf me-
and then time slowed way down.
the semi trucks were like great sea mammals with
their whale calls and slow passage by the flanks.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Kalachakra.”
“Did you hear that?” (hushed tones, hands cover the phone.)
I was quite close to the illusion of Death.
The opaque specter, shaking and rumbling the very
fabric of the matrix about me.
wavering not within the sinkhole of indifference lest my terror turn manifest.
I’ve risen from a pillar of salt,
I’ll rise from the embers next.
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 8:37 PM UTC
"Look up, meteors!"
Closed eyes, one wished
Heads lifted,twinkles falling
Slowly in the mid-night sky, there…
All fading..
One’s mind which predicted,
Scene so vivid, noticed untimely.
Never it is, that eyes would see
sparkles of light above the seas
Who yelled? gratitude given
Without such, truth is hidden
"Now look!" and twice you did.
(Never a freewill, or is?), “Look!”
One wished, someone yelled
It’s never one that did…
In light years they were burning
But here, it is smoothing
All is none, if no one said
Wishing well would never spell
Go back in time, now reflect
if stars do fall, when and where?
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC