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"nonconformity" poems
I can be you, or I can be them I can be she, or I can be him but why be a con artist of someone else like a shadow to my best friend, when I can be my own person, a unique creation created in the image of God but representin my own reflection because I don't wanna see you, them, she, or him in the mirror I wanna see me through my own eyes, 20/20 vision, but clearer but the more I conform, the image of someone else draws nearer and I begin to lose sight of myself, look back in the mirror, and see myself in the rear a shadow to another figure, a copy of a personality livin' out another person's dreamed out reality copying what they think, and succumbing to conformity but that ain't me.... what you see visually and how I appear physically is what makes me comfortable, that's why I'm an independent, politically I don't follow the norms and rules of what's most accepted socially the only commandments I live by are the ones given Biblically I ain't  the best saint though, I mean I do sin every day but the only one I wanna copy is Jesus Christ, in every possible way on the other hand, Satan is out there, trynna tempt me on how to act and even what words I say he's out offering me drinks, but I reply, "I'm okay" cause I don't care if "everyone else is doin' it" I just live how I like to live, that's what makes me a true non-conformist I dress how I wish and not because it's in style I keep my hair big, I do whatever makes me smile I'm not trynna impress you or fit into your clique I don't give women pick-up lines and act like I'm slick I'm me, just me, no facades, just real and if you can't accept that, then move forward but don't steal the things that make me special, from my poems to my appeal so don't try to change me and keep my uniqueness concealed I could care less about your thoughts and any of your judgements I refuse to give your words power, I can make your points become pointless I'm not trynna be harsh, I just love to be different I wanna be an original and keep my vibe realistic not a second you, but a first me, no counterfeit I try to keep up with what God said in Matt 26 verse 41, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak so pray not to give into temptation and stay on your feet I encourage us to keep our standards and what makes us unique and accept anyone else who doesn't wanna repeat everything you say, and everything you do sometimes it's the people that are different that come off the most true because they're not sayin or actin' in ways that you approve they're given you their honest opinion, you should keep them closest to you don't conform, forget what people want you to be just be yourself, not a copy of reality TV.
0
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
nonconformity
I can be you, or I can be them I can be she, or I can be him but why be a con artist of someone else like a shadow to my best friend, when I can be my own person, a unique creation created in the image of God but representin my own reflection because I don't wanna see you, them, she, or him in the mirror I wanna see me through my own eyes, 20/20 vision, but clearer but the more I conform, the image of someone else draws nearer and I begin to lose sight of myself, look back in the mirror, and see myself in the rear a shadow to another figure, a copy of a personality livin' out another person's dreamed out reality copying what they think, and succumbing to conformity but that ain't me.... what you see visually and how I appear physically is what makes me comfortable, that's why I'm an independent, politically I don't follow the norms and rules of what's most accepted socially the only commandments I live by are the ones given Biblically I ain't  the best saint though, I mean I do sin every day but the only one I wanna copy is Jesus Christ, in every possible way on the other hand, Satan is out there, trynna tempt me on how to act and even what words I say he's out offering me drinks, but I reply, "I'm okay" cause I don't care if "everyone else is doin' it" I just live how I like to live, that's what makes me a true non-conformist I dress how I wish and not because it's in style I keep my hair big, I do whatever makes me smile I'm not trynna impress you or fit into your clique I don't give women pick-up lines and act like I'm slick I'm me, just me, no facades, just real and if you can't accept that, then move forward but don't steal the things that make me special, from my poems to my appeal so don't try to change me and keep my uniqueness concealed I could care less about your thoughts and any of your judgements I refuse to give your words power, I can make your points become pointless I'm not trynna be harsh, I just love to be different I wanna be an original and keep my vibe realistic not a second you, but a first me, no counterfeit I try to keep up with what God said in Matt 26 verse 41, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak so pray not to give into temptation and stay on your feet I encourage us to keep our standards and what makes us unique and accept anyone else who doesn't wanna repeat everything you say, and everything you do sometimes it's the people that are different that come off the most true because they're not sayin or actin' in ways that you approve they're given you their honest opinion, you should keep them closest to you don't conform, forget what people want you to be just be yourself, not a copy of reality TV.
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49
If you want to impress me, You have to surprise me. You have to do That last thing that I would ever expect you to do And then keep doing that Everyday. You have to go against the norm. You have to catch me off guard And make me question everything I ever thought To be true. Yes, I might hate you for it, But rest assured that I will be enthralled. Hate and love are interchangeable, Right?
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Nonconformity
in the hours of circulating darkness meandering the streets of my mind inside the walls of a staple sadly not built in the realm of satisfying fantasies. believing that more remains under the stars that house infallible creatures determining the lackluster era in which they dwell cannot be all there is in this undiscovered, newly founded land of gallant nonconformity forever dancing a brilliant quiver orbiting the undeniable refuge devised if only to be safe from the world for a single day more
0
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 6:55 AM UTC
Forts
The simplicity of complex The pattern of disorder As the thin line between love and hate Between reality and dream Are vulnerable, corruptible The free will is a dream The absence of submission is a dream A dream of spontaneity of a rational mind Conformity seen as a synonym of happiness Nonconformity seen as a synonym of craziness These paradoxes of synonyms and antonyms, Of simplicity and complexity, Of dream and reality, Makes life seem to be already written, As if reality were just a story With all this characters not living, but acting According to rules implanted. WE LIVE IN A CAGE WHERE DREAM IS THE ONLY ESCAPE. The advertising of sensationalism Or might I say: A distraction of the cage, A seduction for conformity, A beam of war and poverty to keep us blind, Drunken of sorrows of others And to thank the Lord for what we have. These are some of the bars of the cage Bars to be broken with science and art and knowledge Or as some may say: with craziness.
0
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC
CAGE
I’m lost amidst the closets of curiosities, Trapped within the fibres of a page. Desperately humming lackluster songs of Redemption. Straining my eyes to see into the dark, Scanning subconscious horizons in search Of the rocky cove where the sun will be. Reborn. My fingers are bleeding from trying to grasp. The peonies and gardenias in my skull, Losing my grip on the garden in my mind. Shrieking. Obscure obscenities as the angels stand and Stare. Nonconformity has eternally failed me. Garden nymphs move their wooden mouths. Whispering. Songs of sorrow and the skies. Constructing. Oddly-shaped windows of eternal insignificance.
0
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 4:34 PM UTC
Insignificance
With hands steady, Sinister Syntax Guided me To haughty Nonconformity.
0
Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:39 PM UTC
Condescending Technique
I wandered down a path until I started to stray. How we walked it made me laugh, so I went the other way. I had to step over an obstacle as I made my way through. At times it didn't seem possible, that I would breakthrough. As I watched others take the easy route, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to do something they couldn't do; to do that, I couldn't stay. So I lead myself off the trail. I didn't care anymore. It no longer matters if I fail. I did something different. Something you'll remember.
0
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
Nonconformity
Sometimes, words hit like bolts of yellow and blue lightning. Erupting from their bottled container, spattering bits of charred glass and gore of the words that have been contained for far too long. Reckless in their nonconformity with what is expected, what is, and what needs to be said. When they spill out of painted or chapped lips like liquid fire. Fire and lightning that burns and singes and electrifies everything they touch. Almost as painful as the real thing.
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Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 2:55 AM UTC
Word Burns
Be you! Because there is only one you! Don't be a copy of someone's reflection or a con artist of someone else, when you can be your own person,  a unique creation! You shouldn't want to see them, her or him you should want to see you in the mirror. God didn't put you on this earth to be a copy of a person. People like to look like everyone else,  as if it was the new trend. And faker then a barbie doll. Being my own person and actin myself makes me feel free and make me feel like I don't have to put a act on in front of people just to fit in. You can do this and that to fit in but at the end of the day you're not going to have no real friends, just people that sit in your face every day acting like there your friend when there not! Nonconformity is all about being a leader which is basically being yourself and Going against the grain, if you're not a leader then you're a follower and that wears out fast.  So basically just be yourself!! #nonconformity
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
nonconformity
what a hipster oh what a hipster i could be. i've got enough plaid shirts and iconic sneakers might need a few more pairs of skinny jeans my coffee consumption's sure high enough and i'm about as bitter as my brew before the sugar. what a hipster oh what a hipster i could be. if i changed my music collection and got thicker glasses in an attempt to see through my own blindness it would be a simple matter to disown my sense of self and buy a flower crown. what a hipster oh what a hipster i could be. for now i'll stay myself and acknowledge that nonconformity the blissful irony that i just don't try.
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
oh what a hipster i could be
From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I will finally be beautiful. The marigolds that will bloom will not flee and vanish from the glow of the sun They will aspire and capture its power, ever basking in its majesty unlike all that I have done For they are enduring and evergreen, quite a contradiction to someone always on the run Helianthus will burgeon from my corpse in the Autumn, cordial, acquiescent and jolly Luminous hues of gold, superiority in the form of a blooming seedling, free of worldly folly Irresistible to butterflies and feathered creatures, who shall evermore adore the perennial dolly Snowdrops with delicate pedicels will pepper the frost polishing over my long corroded flesh, An impeccable ability to synthesize with the world effortlessly, so that I may at last mesh Nevermore will I acquiesce to let the world negligently toss me about, instead the world will thresh Irises in the spring will be next to transcend, ripe with nonconformity rooting from their eccentric peridot petals For the world encompassing them may be wrapped in blissful ignorance, but  they will forever hesitate to settle They realize that life is for naught, putrescence is inevitable, so why even make a vain attempt to mettle As sure as the sun will ascend, the summer will materialize, and the sun's glimmer will rage from dusk until dawn For the world will strive on, long after I am gone, and my effulgence on the Earth is perpetually withdrawn I am not fearful of death because in death there is ignorance and blissful uncertainty From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I am in them and that is eternity.
0
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Fear Not for Your Ephemeral Corpse
From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I will finally be beautiful. The marigolds that will bloom will not flee and vanish from the glow of the sun They will aspire and capture its power, ever basking in its majesty unlike all that I have done For they are enduring and evergreen, quite a contradiction to someone always on the run Helianthus will burgeon from my corpse in the Autumn, cordial, acquiescent and jolly Luminous hues of gold, superiority in the form of a blooming seedling, free of worldly folly Irresistible to butterflies and feathered creatures, who shall evermore adore the perennial dolly Snowdrops with delicate pedicels will pepper the frost polishing over my long corroded flesh, An impeccable ability to synthesize with the world effortlessly, so that I may at last mesh Nevermore will I acquiesce to let the world negligently toss me about, instead the world will thresh Irises in the spring will be next to transcend, ripe with nonconformity rooting from their eccentric peridot petals For the world encompassing them may be wrapped in blissful ignorance, but  they will forever hesitate to settle They realize that life is for naught, putrescence is inevitable, so why even make a vain attempt to mettle As sure as the sun will ascend, the summer will materialize, and the sun's glimmer will rage from dusk until dawn For the world will strive on, long after I am gone, and my effulgence on the Earth is perpetually withdrawn I am not fearful of death because in death there is ignorance and blissful uncertainty From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I am in them and that is eternity.
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17
I sit alone in this park that I’ve known for so long, and listen to bird’s songs, in the hopes my mind will grow tranquil and clam. I await words to write, to relieve some strife, seeking merely a sliver of a slice of peace of mind. But time comes to a halt, as ghosts with a waltz, dance through my head causing dread, harboring memories from when I was young. Still naïve and oblivious of the strenuous afflictions to come. With thoughts collected, I reminisce these recollections, of when the world was filled with bliss, and wish that life was still like this. When every day is an adventure to be treasured and joy is never severed, I’m care free because responsibility does not exist, within, my limited vocabulary yet. Each day is met with set structures from a structured home, where mom and dad, still pretend they’re glad, which means I have no reason to be sad. And so, I still don’t know, what it’s like to feel alone, in a broken failing home. Normalcy becomes conformity, complacently but blatantly forming a shell of apathy. Because now dad yells, and the children’s eyes swell, with tears of fear, my mom’s with sheer, determination to captain this ship, stubbornly sit, amidst, these waves of irritation mixed with infidelity. I found myself stuck in a storm, totally torn, as my joy is worn consistently down. I clown around to be sound, but a permanent frown, is brazenly embroidered into my broodingly breaking soul. Time flew by ignored my cries to slow, and so my consciousness consented its blissfulness to turn to bitterness, my brokenness was all that I knew, and soon, it was all I could show. Although now I’m older, still too often I smolder with rage, and both shoulders have boulders, for chips but I’ll fight fate, abate my hate, to keep my future family safe. Safe from the games my parents played to hide their shame, of a marriage disparaged by barriers, bolstered with a selfish taint. I will sufficiently and selflessly safeguard my wife from treachery. To not neglectfully or carelessly, lead her into insanity. For bride and seed, I will succeed, to do everything my parents failed to do for me.
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Nonconformity
I sit alone in this park that I’ve known for so long, and listen to bird’s songs, in the hopes my mind will grow tranquil and clam. I await words to write, to relieve some strife, seeking merely a sliver of a slice of peace of mind. But time comes to a halt, as ghosts with a waltz, dance through my head causing dread, harboring memories from when I was young. Still naïve and oblivious of the strenuous afflictions to come. With thoughts collected, I reminisce these recollections, of when the world was filled with bliss, and wish that life was still like this. When every day is an adventure to be treasured and joy is never severed, I’m care free because responsibility does not exist, within, my limited vocabulary yet. Each day is met with set structures from a structured home, where mom and dad, still pretend they’re glad, which means I have no reason to be sad. And so, I still don’t know, what it’s like to feel alone, in a broken failing home. Normalcy becomes conformity, complacently but blatantly forming a shell of apathy. Because now dad yells, and the children’s eyes swell, with tears of fear, my mom’s with sheer, determination to captain this ship, stubbornly sit, amidst, these waves of irritation mixed with infidelity. I found myself stuck in a storm, totally torn, as my joy is worn consistently down. I clown around to be sound, but a permanent frown, is brazenly embroidered into my broodingly breaking soul. Time flew by ignored my cries to slow, and so my consciousness consented its blissfulness to turn to bitterness, my brokenness was all that I knew, and soon, it was all I could show. Although now I’m older, still too often I smolder with rage, and both shoulders have boulders, for chips but I’ll fight fate, abate my hate, to keep my future family safe. Safe from the games my parents played to hide their shame, of a marriage disparaged by barriers, bolstered with a selfish taint. I will sufficiently and selflessly safeguard my wife from treachery. To not neglectfully or carelessly, lead her into insanity. For bride and seed, I will succeed, to do everything my parents failed to do for me.
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12
they cannot contain nonconformity, they already have my soul locked up in a cellar, a speechless being with incitement and spark, removed from the body: but as the transition approaches, so does my representation in society I MATTER I MATTER I MATTER a lifting of faith and aspiring traits, moving the crowds of martyrs amongst the claimed saints opinionated with my provoked past, and ripped from my own voice, i regained a spirit indescribable, far more powerful than anger: but instead, harmony and composure I MATTER I MATTER (my voice counts, giving quirk and spark to the souls in awe) YOU MATTER YOU MATTER black lives matter, as in the same sense /all lives matter/
0
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:10 AM UTC
i a m f e r g u s o n
E. E. Cummings ‘s deceased…                 the man known for nonconformity                 conformed in the most predictable way,                                                                    died wrote volumes poemspoemspoemspoems scribblestampscrawl                                                                                                       Revered all the time spent on self-publication...                                                           I have one question to pose back, Sonny Did it hurt when your brain popped, Mister Cynic?                                                                                                 --- Sam Temple
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
Coming and Going
DIARY OF A REBEL OUTLAW. Today our world has been taken by the worst of humanity, Infected by an incurable insentient of lusting man, Those of us left are on the run of nonconformity, hunted down to worship the material plan, The infected are reduced to sleepwalkers with nightmares of ruin, Puppets for the faceless that can crush worlds in the palm of their hand, This threat destroys more than the free thinking human being, This threat decimates the hope of our children’s children’s homeland, My god if there is hope, hope there is god, Hope he comes to where we stand, Hope she leads us back from the edge of obliteration, Hope he cuts the chains that bind our ****** hands, Hope she drives us forward to the gates of revolution. Hope he forgives our crimes against fellow man. I am Jimmy.
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 6:48 AM UTC
DIARY OF A REBEL OUTLAW
Long arm gendarme My mistake namaste Backpack bivouac On the Road with Kerouac Brilliant stars, silent nights Fireflies, Northern Lights Mountain streams, fresh air Fall asleep anywhere Small town, take a chance Pig roast, barn dance Allemande left!  Do-si-do! Spontaneity here we go! Long arm gendarme My mistake namaste Backpack bivouac On the Road with Kerouac Beat Zen's hey-day Doing things our own way Nonconformity, anything goes Kerouac-Ginsburg-Burroughs Shot to pieces, picking skin Benzedrine, adrenaline Don't forget the Phenergan Notify our next of kin Long arm gendarme My mistake namaste Backpack bivouac On the Road with Kerouac
0
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 12:11 PM UTC
Beat Generation
Your Father was a good man and selflessly intelligent Hard working,the salt of the earth Pulled his family up by straps of his boots. Your mother loved you only the silent way a mother can. Petite in stature while a giant in her kindness she shares. They settled a family to raise in the peace of a country village Just north of a railroad town. I see in your eyes the heart of a man who is at peace with the ones he loves. I hear in my ears the sounds of your honest direction. I feel in my heart the love of a man who wants only the best for me. Please don't feel misunderstood my mentor. Your love for the children in this world gives you away The respect you show your elders is that of a soldier of God. You and I walk together in understanding. Men of your character are a rare specimen and vital to a world that turns with a atmosphere of conformity. You have held your values and I pray to be as you are a rock and as solid as you have become. Your unconditional love for my sister has earned a lifetime of respect. So often your strength has held a family together, so often the father you are has given foundation to the one I have aspired to be. We are not alone in our nonconformity you truth teller. Your lifetime of passion has been passed down to this man. I love you like a son Mr. Southerland thank God for bringing you into this families world. On this Father's Day 2014 Let it be known You have two sons.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
Fathers Day
The mask of night surrounds me with a cloak of anonymity but I am nonconformity and rip the mask right off. designed for interaction I type into an attraction and the mask rips off again. you thought you heard me breathing but I was leaving you reminders as the mask of night surrounds me and we touch type to the evening.
0
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 4:34 AM UTC
Mosquito bites
Realize that there's no such thing, then give up on resisting this nonexistent ideal of being, then realize that by even fighting this invisible thing in the first place that you were really just rehearsing for later-on confrontations where you'll end up either having to stand up for personality traits vaguely resembling nonconformity or joining some bandwagon whose riders are all non-admittingly terrified by traits in a person who they find to be just a bit more than vaguely disturbingly off-beat, or at the very least, too far off from their own safe and comfortable sense of normalcy to be considered worth hiring/keeping/promoting. Do you know what I mean?
0
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
How to Be Normal
Syllables collect like vacant shells            on a shore of nonconformity. Willing the thoughts now washing up              to be converged vividly.      We gaze at many horizons, collecting upon us, are we to be                                washed away... Or will our reflections be that        which we swim within,                be that which we heed in word..
0
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 4:16 PM UTC
Within Our Shoreline
Bound by cords by my own hands Head filled with books and my own fantasy land Reticent and contracted Every move beforehand practiced I can't relax into the uncertainty It's pain, it's hell Every entering moment I cannot foretell How do I expose the beautiful parts without exposing the scars and bruises? No one likes those, everyone now just wants illusions. The fact is That I feel and miss and hurt Like everyone Tall grass and soil beneath me I'm sinking Into a fantasy And it feels so good and it feels so wrong Because it takes me away from reality And I know I got to face reality, With both it's joys and woes But just once more I will serenade the song of nonconformity. Systems crumbling beneath our feet As we speak But my outlook is rather serene But yours is bleak And you ask: "What do you mean" The world is ending But look, you're supporting the systems So don't act like you're against them when you are one of them Instead of playing the blame game and pinning the problems on a group of people, Look at yourself in the mirror If we get rid of "those people" nothing is going to change We need to look at ourselves first We must change ourselves first.
0
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
Untitled
im not afraid of what i think is out there im afraid of what i know is in me i cant promise a peaceful outcome when bureaucracy meets suicidal antisocial nonconformity
0
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
called out (aggro phobia)
Do you know what I not? You penalize nonconformity. I only ask, why? Now I scribble for your displeasure, to watch ignorance dance upon the cold skin which you wear and to wait patiently for my verdict.
0
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 9:18 PM UTC
to my mean english teacher
I wear a costume of poorly executed ink artistry that could barely be called calligraphy. Claiming to be a culture rebel I write poetry to challenge this society; But is my nonconformity the camouflage that I use to protect myself sticking out at a safe distance so no one tries to get to closed to me. Am I a zoo animal of sweet entertaining intentions on the verge of extinction cause no one loves my kind of disposition?
0
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 7:22 AM UTC
Untitled
The Imagine Nation When asked where I am from I no longer mention my country by name because people will soon enough realise that my accent is the noun, not a verb. I come from a place where daydreams are never interrupted by darkness because it’s a marriage of preoccupation with nonconformity. Curiosity gives an illusion of genius, insight and resourcefulness are the true collaborators of artistic invention. Panache cannot be consumed.
0
Apr 24, 2023
Apr 24, 2023 at 6:51 AM UTC
The Imagine Nation