"insubordinate" poems
"I know where you live", he said,
"so it's best that you'll behave.
Don't get me angry or else,
I'll make you dig your own grave."
"Why are you like that", I said.
"I don't know what wrong I've done."
"You know what it's about", he yelled,
"you've been unfair to my son."
"But Brian is not the talent as you think,
he's insubordinate and mostly rude,
he will probably fail the term,
if he continues in this attitude."
"But isn't it your responsibility
to turn him into a decent being?"
"Education begins at home, you know,
although your kin might be disagreeing."
Jul 5, 2021
Jul 5, 2021 at 3:35 AM UTC
They will not take my gun.
Get me their guns.
I have a right to my property.
They have a duty to obey us.
It is my responsibility to stand for what I believe in.
It is our responsibility to make them submit.
I hate them.
They will love us.
I say, break the law!
Do they dare go against us?
I petition; I riot; I will not go down without a fight!
We beat; We arrest; We will not lose this fight!
Alas, I am the only one left.
One insubordinate citizen remains.
I fire my gun for my freedom.
I fire my gun for our respect.
My only defense clatters to the ground.
I knock the gun out of his traitorous grip.
I fear what they will do to my family and me.
It is much safer to be feared than loved.
I take one last act to retrieve what is rightfully mine.
I take one last act to retrieve what is lawfully ours.
Then we both reach for the gun.
Then we both reach for the gun.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
Strike now while the metal's hot,
Don't be afraid to jump the gun.
There's too much to do
Under just one sun.
An impulse is an insubordinate heart,
It drives your mind insane.
**** you brain, logic *****
Heart says with great disdain.
"I think, I think, I think", or
"I feel, I feel, I feel".
Whichever one you choose,
The problem's all too real.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC
This is to the camera, that sees me as nothing but
Delicate bones and pearly whites
My essence captured through awkward captions and
My worth measured by likes and heart bytes
A photograph carefully composed
Of a girl with her true thoughts [boxed up tight]
This is to the boys who see me as nothing but
Geometric shapes
Circles and curves and parabolas
**** and *** and legs and waist
And an irrelevant concave where my brain should be
My “radical ideas” make me a butterface
This is to the academy, that sees me as nothing but
3.97 and a good SAT score
A scholar of great potential
That will donate millions or more
As an honored alumni
Of the greatest institution in the world
This is to society, that sees me as nothing but
A golden gal who always colored inside the lines
Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes, no fire in my soles
“She’s never insubordinate, ‘cause she’s never been inclined”
Determined but docile
Go ahead and assume I’m not the rebellious kind
This is to myself, because I see that
My mind is a kaleidoscope of technicolor dreams
Ideas colliding like specks in sunbeams
And I’ll call myself a feminist or riot grrl if I **** well please
You are not my dictator or an office label machine
It’s 2015; I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Your eyes resembled the troubled waters at sea,
always shimmering, churning, crashing, always making me wonder if you had sky blue galaxies trapped inside of you.
And your smile always looked as if it had been carved into your face with the same instrument used to make those marks on your arms.
I found comfort in your sadness, because that was the only time you were true to yourself.
I found comfort in your freedom. I always loved seeing you live carelessly, daringly. Insubordinate to anyone who tried to stop you.
Sometimes it worried me to see you scratch your skin after you cursed about destroying everything you touched.
Sometimes it worried me to see you lose yourself among the empty bottles of alcohol.
You were burdened with a heavy heart, and like the pupils in your eyes and the emotion in your smile and the sound of your laugh, it was vacant.
And all I could say was, maybe, just maybe, if you unclenched your fists you would've found that you were holding onto nothing.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
Streaming glitter
Suspended laughter
Delayed happiness
Evident abasement
Surmounting fears
Shadows dance in torment
Pleasant gestures
Pretence abundant
Deferred bliss
Creeping obscurity
Empathizing stares
Lured smiles led to drown
Malevolent touch
Masked intentions
Insubordinate emotions
Disappearing identity
Longing spirit
Laughter is beheaded
Joyful wickedness
Jeweled thorns
Loving stabs
Poisoned kisses
Unassuming mortal
Beauty lays dead
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 8:05 AM UTC
Amusing to most cynics, these tragic tales of love.
Questioning his mercy, the one who watches from above.
Diabolical confrontation, an army so strong.
Sleepless nights withered, pondering what went wrong.
Meek perception of a fickle minded clan.
Denouncing an ambitious child, an insubordinate man.
An intense adoration, eloquence of being crazed.
Contested against vehemently, all hell aggresively raised.
Not unrequited, not unfair, a beautiful symphony meticulously shared.
Infatuation so strong, hope for lives to be paired.
Cacophony of society, this petrified state.
Throngs of loathing, a cumbersome hate.
Agitating separation, an indignant ploy.
Hearts shattered, like a worthless toy.
These bonds of unfair blood, creators of an avenging soul.
Guaranteed devastation, eager to come out of its hole.
Upset the master plan, cause his own disease.
Let there be genocide, In god's decrees he did not believe.
Buried alive, weight of there mutual debt.
Grieving loss, Giving up on everything left.
Beaten, he screams in mortal vanquish.
His very soul on fire.
He forsakes them all, allows his blood to douse there funeral pyre.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Eliminate the grass roots-
Organize a hoard of guys
Abhorrent lies and black boots
Coordinate the insubordinate
Get on the floor and sit until
I fuckin' tell you to move
We're just walkin' on the borders of our own chalk outlines
Fear adhered to talkin' televisions are your confines
It doesn't even matter if we lie or if we tell the truth,
Remember Harvey Oswald and that cat John Wilkes Booth?
We maintain the power over every single hour of your life,
So smell the flowers while you can and try to find yourself a pretty wife.
We're just walkin' on the borders of our own chalk outlines
Fear adhered to talkin' televisions are your confines
Don't forget your Bible boy
Don't you print that libel boy
We'll sue your ****** *** until
You're livin' like a tribal boy
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 8:53 PM UTC
blue scooters
false pride
blue house
bus rides
laughter, oh the laughter,
the smell of your fragile body worn out
fifty cents
screams
all of the whispering
broken chair
bullied blue faced
baby boy
brother
memory covered
in green paint
yellow paint
was it ******
was it ******
the end all be all
last breath
blanket
shame faced
who murderers
what a way to go
was it worth it
star trek
was it worth it
are you happy yet
did you do it
boy scout
noose knots
after thoughts
in the quiet streets
one last
prehistoric animal screech
ambulance tires
i was on the sidewalk
laughing, laughing
showing off
did we care
why am i sitting here
broken chair
broken boy
pants down
feet up
how did they find you
little brother
step father mother
swinging of you body
cold and white
kids who pushed you
wearing ties
cutting classes
all the third grade boys
looking up
confused
clenching souvenirs
blank permission slips
you genius
where are you now
insubordinate fool
you would have been our boss
you would have taken care of us
where are you now?
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 7:38 AM UTC
At last the autumn
wind has stripped
the branches bare.
Even insubordinate
trees now stretch
their naked limbs
along a leaf of sky;
timber ledger lines
compose a staff
where birds rest
as quarter notes,
the nested chimes
of winter’s song.
You and I unlace
our leather boots.
We wait for snow,
white and absolute,
to change the score,
to blanket measured
roots, a silent chorus.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
I don’t dream of adventurous romance or memorable moments
with people who are only important to me.
If those things happen
ok I guess
but that’s not my goal.
I want to see the world a changed place
and not feel shame for that desire.
My dreams are not bigger or more glamorous than yours,
they’re just different.
I don’t want change so I can be lauded.
I want change so we can all live equally
in a world where there are no heroes just everyone as we all are -
merely human.
Prizes, titles and crowns don’t come from the universe.
They come from confused humans
who hold others up above themselves.
We give our heroes plastic spoons and hoist them
to the ceiling with instructions to dig
hoping one day we might crawl up and over
to occupy the newly excavated negative space above them.
But our plan doesn't work;
the heroes become insubordinate,
refusing to make room and the rest of us are left
with the burden of carrying these people around on our backs.
Now the heroes have a free ride of it and the masses
struggle under their added weight.
We are all the same, equals:
carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen.
Skin.
Bones.
Flesh.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
thrumming soul i speak to you
in amber shades of grey and blue
why dreams cascade in hazel eyes
and broken fights like desert skies
i bleed in red and grey and black
stumble along the deranged track
for reality's worth is less than nothing
preaching my life wretched, disgusting
shrieking with each spectacular collision
parched throat and insubordinate vision
dying heart i plead of you
for all our sakes, you must pull through
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 8:30 PM UTC
Such adhesive slugs to **** the blood of advocate beings,
Amiss extinct classiness,
None more is around!!!
Industry smokestacks line the insubordinate intellectuals,
Where perpetuals deal!!!!
Irritable bowels rumble,
Tumble to irriversable steel!!!
Kidnapper of kinded phenomenals,
Journals to all biographies,
Juvenile junction games of fallen pained dominoes!!!
Tallons sharper than tatted guns,
Wherein spears go through thy side,
To draweth out thine unholy water!!!!
Sunglassed bringer of right and wrong,
Fiction has been dusked to nonfictional hostile!!
No komonoed kitten here purs,
No lamb to be put for all to gather!!!
No one may lather when none comes around....
No landmark amazement,
No mountainous town,
No linience,
None remembrance abounds to fulfill light footed doers!!!
The pagination of this story counterclocks distant ships emmersed stations,
Where some wherein are strange,
Where the faces you see are painted!!!!
All love,
No hatred!!!
Doth thou ask for a captains ship?
Or a tribal slaves boat?
Which part wilt thou sail among the islands of thy own kind!!!!!
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC
Such adhesive slugs to **** the blood of advocate beings
Amiss extinct classiness
No more is around
Industry smokestacks line the insubordinate intellectuals
Wherein perpetuals deal!!!
Irritable bowels
Grumble
Tumble
To irreversible steel!!!
Kidnapper of kindred phenomenals
Journals to all biographies
Juvenile junction
Games of fallen pained dominoes
Tallons sharper than tatted guns
Wherein spears go through thy side
To draw out Thy unholy water!!!
Sunglassed bringer
Of right and wrong
Fictions been dusked
To nonfictional jostle!!!!
No kimonoed kitten here purs!!!
No lamb to be put
For all to gather!!!!
No one may lather
When no one comes around...
No landmark amazement
No mountainous town....
No lenience
No rememberance abound to fulfill
Light footed doers!!!
The pagination of this story
Counter-clocks distant solar immersed stations!!!
Where some are strange
Where faces are painted
All love
No hatred!!!!
Doth thou ask for captains ship?
Or a tribal slaves boat?
Which part wilt thou sail amongst?
Island's of thy own kind!!!!!
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
We never regret being insubordinate,
but she has room for those torn apart,
despite their hearts so full of hate.
Their tears are the hurts of the heart.
They cry not knowing,
she is watching, listening,
concerned of their well-being,
while they're busy scheming;
Her seeds are all planted,
but haven't all blossomed.
Her streets all connected
but paths are divided...
Though there's lights that always burn,
there's a thousand souls who mourn.
But she cries for those who hurt her,
and loved them like a mother.
Still we lacked to love her fully,
with three hearts like an octopus;
once she were three times a lady.
We love her enough, the haven for us,
Though infested by ***** rats,
and all seem like, a big mistake there's,
so much hope inside Flats...
Despite our flaws of being torn apart,
We never regret being insubordinate.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
My mind goes back to a time long ago
Where I had lived without seeing.
The memory, faint, lingers like a cold
Terrorizing my very being.
Lost on a path from all I had known
A star losing its light.
Searching for answers successfully hidden
I tried with all of my might.
A door was left open so far from me
All I had to do was reach.
But there on the threshold mockingly stood
The insubordinate thief.
He told me to leave this foolish endeavor
Of stepping out into the light.
To turn back, forget, and never attempt
To spread my wings and take flight.
Convincing, conniving, and jealous he was
And ruthless to virtually no end.
His tricks and his games would always defeat
And I’d try my best to defend.
Bloodied and bruised I lay on the floor
When he had taken his fill.
It was right then and there I knew I could stand
And exercise my own kind of will.
A battle royale commenced there between
The insubordinate thief and I.
I’d taken the blows and sent them right back
Until I would see that thief die.
He muttered a whisper, a squeamish request;
“This is what I ask of you now:
Take what you did to me on this day
and show all your brethren how.
“How you defeated me with your own strength
And what this victory means.
The future is yours, I can’t interfere,
Your mind is free now it seems.”
And still to this day I can recall
The touch of that thief’s icy hand.
But far from me now is where he shall remain,
Away from where I now stand.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
Strange days, dark clouds, what can one do when they have hit the ground, is there a chance for a lost soul to be found. Strange but face it when it comes to the human creation, appointed by holy delegation to heal the worlds devastation. Long days left in a pit of nothingness, short time ticks off the life I have left to display my worthiness. I am just a insubordinate, not ordinary, that's why I'm kept in confinement. I make no alliance's with anyone, is it strange that I do not put my faith in anyone. From the time of not, in this time I have been forgotten, so my identity stay's rotten. Not one to be trifled with, for those that dangle and dibble with darkness shall inherit death. Ill fortunes create my misfortune's how unfortunate for this insubordinate. Ill mind with strange intentions, people always say that I need an intervention.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
Filling in lines, with large amounts of time.
Collapsing echoes of empty thoughts into our corners,
And living numb, like emotional hoarders.
Let us free. We wish to sing, to dance again;
To live our lives, as we did back then.
So ourselves and full of passion.
And so unique in every fashion.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
hits like a thunderbolt,
creeps through your veins,
a psychopathic frenzy,
my insubordinate brain.
without a warning,
without a reason,
it’s a catalyst for heartbreak,
emotional bleeding
a cry for help
muffled by the tears
turmoil and fear
deteriorating upstairs.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC