"preconception" poems
I am you, you are me
There is no difference inside to see
The color of your skin, hair or eyes
Does not represent what’s inside.
Physical traits come from the family tree
They give roots, history and a sense of identity
But inside we have the same blood, the same heart
So when does prejudice begin to take part?
Babies are born without preconception
They feel love and comfort from their caregiver’s affection
Their new eyes are blind to ignorance
They see through a clear lense and don’t see difference
As they develop, society gives them glasses,
Their vision gets clouded by the opinions of the masses
The lenses get darker as they grow
They filter the world to see only colors they know
Differences become obstacles, not celebrated.
Leaders tell them who to respect and who should be hated.
These biased views could remain for a lifetime
And then they’re passed down to the next one in line.
Opinions are essential, shared thoughts educate.
But when they’re bigoted and hateful we cannot tolerate.
Take those blinders off, take a look around.
There’s so much joy in diversity to be found
Don’t let the blindfold give such a narrow view
Don’t be complacent and take what is given to you
Rip off the filter, open your eyes
Find connection, common experience, destroy the lies
Revel in these connections, learn from one another
We’re all trying to get through from one day to the other
See through the skin, the hair, the accent
To the core of the HUMAN BEING with love and respect.
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 11:43 AM UTC
Satan's Hotel
The waiting land of better days
just faded away just like that
the fields of righteousness are few
the fields lie in darkness
after the flame died away
Loneliness and darkness filled the soul
Drugs and cheep woman and men
That are selling their souls
Life had no meaning to them you could
see it in their zombie eyes
they live in Satan's hotel
the coldness of their souls is out to take
another young life into drug world
understanding the ways of the Life of
Darkness and gloom
Kids are walking around
thinking they are doing just fine
Just to find their
Mommy and daddy's killing of there
Souls to another blow
of the drug pip
oh, just look at their lives
look what they have done
they are walkers of the night
words has been spoken
Will **** one's life
If you would walk by
Satan's hotel you could feel the control of
the lost souls lost in the eternal blackness
never to be seen again.
something new has come
into another life
taking the demons in their mind
and a pipe in their hand
the young and the old under
the control of Satan's world
Parents looking all over town
wondering how to find their kid
then they hear there
Kids learned a new trick
for the angel of death
has arrived in that
cold sad lonely night
when another has taken a life
broken down of the drug world
Satan's world
when you check in to Satan's Hotel
the way that they act
is no way of coming back
to the way of better days ,
You can see the evil
in there eyes's an urge to ****
the desire is a thrill
to **** the good in another Soul
once upon a time
they had Jehovah in their lives
walked in the light
all of that had changed
when they said goodbye
and they let Satan's
in their lives by taking the drug pipe
Dark angel is all over
the place hunting for new souls
to take into their control
the broke word
that killed dreams of the young and
the old nobody there forgave sins
they just keep making them
The Drug fights take a blood bath of the knife
Behind the walls you can hear it all
The cry's of the night when
a baby cries to be fed why it's
Mommy is out doing what she knows best
So now the baby's grow up
to be the victim of prostitution
Of preconception and true damnation,
the young minds
Reaching out into a world
that is lost every time ,
They can no longer see
the twisting emotions that they live in
they will longing for
the person they once used to know
But that was long ago
Know they live in Satan's world.
Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (c)
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Amazing how the bubbles make
Each.
Word.
Stop.
Easier to ride each wave to completion
Than resist and escape as the wave departs
Lethargic
Nervous
Coked up and tripping over words
Until the muddy field, the proving ground
Marks the beginning of reality
Merge preconception, misconception, and perception,
Into one bright shining lie
Young dry brittle contradictions,
deep like gravity wells.
Losing sleep while pursuing the hand held sun.
The out.
The goal.
Reality knocks twice.
Once to break the tape.
Once to cross the line.
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 12:20 PM UTC
i like everything about you just the way you are as you are when i met you. point blank.
i don’t have any preconception of who you feel you once were but aren’t now, that you wish you still were. that person doesn’t exist in my mind. the past doesn’t settle into my conscious. it’s just faint musings of something that doesn’t seem real or tangible to reality.
the person you currently loathe, i adore. the person you pine after, i feel nothing for other than what i feel about you now, because i don’t see him and you as separate or different selves the way you do. you are you. no matter what you perceive yourself as being, you are yourself perfectly.
and yet at the same time actually, i see you as very separate internally, with the work you’ve been doing, even if you don’t totally see that yet, because i know if him and i met when he existed in that state of mind we have both previously occupied in loneliness, neither of us would have been able to make sense of the other the way we can now. we both would have been too lost.
if that makes any sense. self vs internal self. treading water vs being swallowed alive. together vs loneliness. you vs a shell of who you are now.
it’s such a complicated balancing act but i wouldn’t have it any other way. when we backslide we are betraying no one but ourselves, even when it feels like we’re accomplishing and internalizing something greater than ourselves. we’re emptying our lives with our bodies, and it’s not fair to the selves we’re struggling to keep intact now for us to do that. we have things to live for. you have things to live for.
i like you now, not then. even if you see things flipped around. i don’t see any see-saw or scale that tips or drops to equal self-acceptance, nowadays with this disorder, i just see an hourglass. i know. i know it’s not that simple. but you’re the only one who sees value in what was. the people who love you now don’t see that, only how it has hurt and tortured you for far too long, and how much the person you are right now deserves to be free of it.
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 4:05 AM UTC
The benefit
of challenging anything
too comfortably established
isn’t so much
some clichéd grand expansion
of one’s worldview, but rather
a well-warranted reminder
that anyone claiming to have found
any conclusions is very likely
full of ****
I love you dearly, humanity, but
you discover the world
like a toddler discovers his own foot,
and cling
to obsolete sensibilities
like trying to justify your belief in Santa Claus.
And you hate what you find
when you look too long,
because
you say that you discover the world
but what you so stupidly, so humanly
overlook is that the world bears herself
with no inhibitions, and even though
you can’t see everything immediately,
it’s all there; she has
nothing to prove to you. Yet the mystery
you so excruciatingly choose to maintain
is that even though the earth bares her skin
unashamed, you find her ****** absurd and
clothe her blatant body
in preconception, tragically dedicating
the decoding of your existence
to finding out
what truly lies beneath.
So perhaps, humanity, you should
embrace those who **** you off,
because you cushion your soul
with every reason to distance yourself
from any realization
that there is no inherent parallel
between every finite question
and the eternal answer,
unsatisfied with
the tantalizing ellipsis
the universe leaves you, and that the very fact
I even formed a sentence
is punctuated
by my mortality.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
so you saw the recruitment poster
and naturally, you thought you’d come
thinking it would come naturally-
being artistic yourself-you came to class
equipped for the jaunt; the saunter in the park
where the sun is bound to shine-
with a new ukelele in a case
like a little hamper with a little rug of hope-
what are you letting yourself in for?
not this assault course, maybe?..
Let me tune you up.
First off, this is not going to be
some slack strung Hawaiian picnic,
where you can catch everything with butter fingers
where fizz sends it straight to your brain,
where you’ll just inhale and exhale music-
no. you’re going to have to jog on the spot;
get your knees up, star jump and listen
and fail and feel musically immune
to anything remotely infectious or
resembling a tune; you’re in the army now
so excuse me while I just whip away
that table cloth of preconception
laid out in your mind;
now
get down
give me twenty
count yourself lucky
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
True Poetic Lilly
So far, you have considered what makes
poetry come to life
You have examined the poetic minds of all time
Certain aspects of it's form,
You have tried so hard to be sensitive to the tone
of the sea of the atmosphere of my poems
as your mind roams to find true meaning of what
is going on in my poetic mind,
But darkness of true sadness came your way
even in the light of your days
This darkness of true sadness takes you deep
on a journey that had only belong to me,
You come to find what it is that holds me down
You will call it what you find of my true poetic mind
everything that I write of it's true actions
of characters of a life I once lived,
Setting in deep darkness of a language of it's kind
The tone of true point of view
The true atmosphere of fear what comes near
the true meaning of poetic Lilly's Life,
The preconception and knowledge I do write
only I have the key to my own poetry.
Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (c)
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
Sometimes,
a thing is put forth
with the preconception of
"very few people, if anyone
will truly get this reference,"
however, I maintain
that those who do
may indeed gain much
from a well-placed insight.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
Sometimes people are disasters awaiting,
in a manner of a sinkhole,
swallowed by an endless depression
that follows them with every
step and move they make
Not asking for anyone’s help
only adds to the chasms
of mind, body, and spirit
Sometimes people are disasters awaiting,
in a manner of a train-wreck,
which at one time followed
a direct path to redemption
Along the way, this train
veered towards a catastrophic path
of tragic consequences that will
forever scar their original goals
Sometimes people are disasters awaiting,
in a manner of a tsunami,
displaced by anger and hatred
towards those that are opposite
This same ire and prejudice
builds up within them continuously
waiting to reach its peak
and come violently crashing down
Sometimes people are disasters awaiting,
in a manner of an earthquake,
with a lot of negative energy
below their own physical surface,
shaking their faith and patience
One day rattling the uniformity
that all people rely on
for overall peace and existence
Sometimes people are disasters awaiting,
in a manner of a blizzard,
blowing around aimlessly, permanently blinded
by ignorance, preconception, and one-sidedness
This same bias eternally darkening
their desire to be open
to the many differences among
the distinctiveness of humankind alike
Vicki A Zinn
April 10, 2016
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
I thought life has a lot of things to offer
for those who could wait for bigger rewards.
Well today, i realized that life doesn't work the way
I supposed it wasn't I expected it to be,
I discovered that Opportunities and
Dreams are often attained by those
who can afford one, rarely or even
not reached by those whose lives are
in so much hardship.I guess the
world as I know it, is only an
imagined world, reality is that the
world is already preoccupied with
people who continuously investing to
protect one's position or dream,
making others aspiration in life
impossible. The world is unkind to
new talents or ideas.It now
destroyed my preconception of
pursuing dreams in life. Last day,
I've encountered a close person to
mine, and we have a talk about
dreams and aspirations, she told me
to stop running after those dreams
of mine and face reality, throw this
baggage and look of what really is
destined for me as a person who don't
have the luxury to have anything, to
be contended of what is just around
and not look beyond what can be
grabbed or pursued. It rocked me to my
core. not because she's one of the
closest person to me but because she
might be right, that there is
nothing for me out there, that I
belong here, here in this hopeless
place. A place for those who have nothing
and will never have anything.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
There was no preconception of what to do,
It was like the world said “Go ahead,”
The canvas of which to paint was endless,
And the music, it kept playing,
And my feet, they kept moving,
And Earth spun backwards once more,
Time slowed down, I could see blood pump.
I could hear my heartbeat,
I could taste the air,
Pandora’s box was opened wide,
and everything was visible.
My gaze stretched as far as your mind’s eye can see,
And all I could see was you, Rapture.
-May 25th 2013
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Time is not a concept,
it’s a preconception
created by people that have never felt
love.
Or, so I always believed.
Now, I sit awake every night
thinking about our expiration date,
the day to which we
meet a bitter demise.
A demise devised by
a whole world around us,
a world that will
never see the shrink sticker stuck.
The ticking won’t stop
on the time bomb of us,
as we leap, crawl, roll, dart
to our expiration date.
We can’t stop rolling,
faster down this path
to a little place that
will be our personal hell.
A hell that we believe in,
a hell that he is counting on,
a hell that hath its fury,
a hell that I am dreading.
Yet, everyday I take your hand,
kiss your fingers,
caress your lips,
and stare at the brilliance that is your eyes
in an attempt to forget
our expiration
date.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
Love doesn't mean anything anymore.
Love is a word that pre-pubescent adolescents
throw away on their very first kiss.
They take a crush, and they call it love, and no one
reprimands them or scolds them because no one
can see that there is any difference any more between
love and the half-hearted pretence at love -
the newfound infatuation with the very idea of
being enraptured by the very first person seeming
worthy enough to be enraptured by.
And hate. Hate means nothing either.
Hate is the feeling little children scream at their parents
when they couldn't wear a leotard to school in December.
Hate is when people take a notion,
a preconception, a misconception of what an
emotion should feel like and they take the worst
feeling they are feeling and they label it hate
and they proclaim hate on their 'haters' and
they forget that they are 'haters' themselves when
they laugh at the real hate they dole people out on dinner plates.
Jealousy? Jealousy has been eclipsed.
Jealousy has been eclipsed by the lack-lustre attempt
at jealousy that ten-year old girls have for their friends.
Jealousy now is what people feel when they
realise that they don't have enough money, or fame,
or friends to truly feel good about themselves even though
these things are entirely human constructions
and seeing as no one on this planet has yet to do a
**** to affect the universe anyway, the universe should be
jealous of us for having such care-free lives.
Some people claim they feel rage, but anger's dead.
Rage is the thing to pretend to feel when the
world realises it doesn't revolve around anyone and
actually revolves around the sun.
Rage is like a rushing tidal wave of the opposite
of melting sunsets eating the horizon and generally
it's a lot less pretty unless you see a macabre
sort of beauty in war and politics and education because
education is the big thing we should really be angry about
because wouldn't true ignorance be bliss?
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
The hammock swallowed us that night in a cocoon of love, the crickets were as monotone as the symphonies of the love songs we've heard a thousand times before.
In my arms I held you, knowing that in a world of expressions all you wanted was acceptance, and after all the deceptions I just wanted to be the exception. You offered yourself to me in that space, a space where I didn't need to worry about being strong, in a world where strength mattered, all the weight of the world was lifted off my back at once. My head was clear, as clearly as you cried out, and the skies bathed our pale skin in its own mellow tint. You felt me for who I was, no preconception or misconception mattered in that moment, for you knew, as my lips passed messages for us, and only us, through yours, that no acid washed memories would catch up to us now.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 3:06 AM UTC
I want to write a letter to everyone
who ever made me question anything, from
the nature of the universe to
what tastes best on toast, because
this is the only way I know how
to say thank you—thank you for not letting me
stay the person I was at
any moment when I thought
I had come to any conclusions.
And even though
I spend most of my thoughts
creating answers that are only to terminate
curiosities too abstract
to even be a question, I’ll admit
that I try to tie things together that
don’t even have strings— and I sulk
in frustration that I can’t even find them,
things that don’t even know
that they should exist. So I take my
pencil of imagination and draw
lines between everything and end up
with a blueprint
of some hypothetical reality—because
we say that we discover the world
but what we so stupidly, so humanly
overlook is that the world bears herself
to us with no inhibitions, and even though
we can’t see everything immediately,
it’s all there; she has
nothing to prove to us. Yet the mystery
is that even though the earth bares her skin
unashamed, we find her ****** absurd and
clothe her blatant body
in preconception, tragically dedicating
the decoding our existence
to finding out
what truly lies beneath.
I want to thank everyone
who has ever ****** me off, or negated
any idea I’ve held too dear, because
you get me closer to realizing
that there is no parallel
between my finite questions
and the eternal answer, and the very fact
I even formed a sentence
is punctuated
by my mortality.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
intentions,
they sometimes get the better of me,
such that
my automatic, lie-down attitude, sees.
sees me standing here: searching,
desiring the vastness of the open sky
(and beyond), yet:
at each point of involuntary contact,
i find myself embracing the ground,
and during this disjointed,
increasingly frantic
(often disassociated)
illusionary dance,
i sometimes glimpse
the shadow of such unknown wonders,
brush their shape with open hands,
before blindness claims me once more.
such mini discoveries
(or mini-delusions to the minds of some)
keep open the bud of childlike wonder,
starving off decay, and
total submersion within the blindness of
societal preconception.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Trapped inside a fantasy,
Lost within his dreams,
Enslaved by pure insanity,
A hopeless cause it seems.
Gripped by desperation,
Lost in what he believes,
Entrenched in preconception,
A flawed future he perceives.
Mapping out false history,
Lost inside words so sweet,
Engaged deep in the mystery,
A soul swept off his feet.
Sapping all his energy,
Lost in a world of bliss,
Embracing hopeful synergy,
A victim to fate’s kiss.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Many times my heart aches and wonders why
But now this constant truth keeps echoing in my mind
The whole reason for every thing you did to me is clear
If you can't love yourself, you can never love another
You became so insecure about us
About the preconception that I would leave you someday
To find someone else
Someone more handsome
More thoughtful
Someone who wasn't you
That didn't have the qualities you hated about yourself
In me, you couldn't get past all the things you saw wrong in yourself
Even though I never said a word
I could never say I wish we never met before
Because you have taught me a lot
But, I wish I never met the agony you caused
I wished I never fell into your guilt traps
Your control techniques
You changed
And I was blamed for it
But I don't understand why
I tried to preserve who you were when we first met
That sweet boy who was genuine
Now you are just some fraud
Well, you reap what you sow
Because, now, I am not yours
You tried to justify our endings, to make it seem like it was my idea too
But the only reason I agreed
Was because I saw you were too far gone for me to try to ever love you again
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
unknown entities
snatched from their liminal space
into binary
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 8:29 AM UTC
To the eyes who see me blinded by preconception
You have named me timid, fraid, traumatized, sad, shy, recluse alone
Fearfully quiet
You present me a victim who cannot stand ,speak, serenade, seek, spreading self strong against the world
I challenge that you have not understand the me that was so quickly judged in prejudice
You have not seen the courage ,resilience ,strength, stubbornness power that. Is me
Pray take your weak minded thinking and look closely as perhaps what you are judging is more self then me
I have been and will be ever be moving with each day firmly underfoot so that I know what I am ,who I am, and where I will be
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
Knowledge is a preconception
Ignorance is indeed bliss
The world you see is a perspective
riding on the tide of the abyss
We find ourselves tied to a cage
Blinded by a shell of our potential
We conceal the nature of our will
Afraid to be experimental
Our fight is constant and brutal
And victory is shadowed by complacency
Wisdom is neither right nor wrong
And happiness is your only ecstasy
You are given one chance to be free
And stand strong against the constant
But history and normality tell lies
And trust is always absent
So take life with a grain of salt
And be open to a chance at redemption
For existence is fleeting at best
And hope is your only salvation
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
In lieu of a human connection
Will these words suffice
Absent eyes crying out for your presence
Will my dreams ignite
How many years have passed without clarity
Parched and begging for a vision
Truth, absolute and transient
I prematurely suffer your absence
imagine a future alone
My perception turned away
Still trapped by preconception
Will I give of myself willingly
As I return this life
Paid in full
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
i will never go to virginia.
because in my mind it loves me
and i love virginia.
and ive never been
and ill never go.
green on the eyes,
warm on the flesh.
how could i burden such a place
with my expectations
my preconceived notions
with no preconception.
i know nothing about virginia
it can be anything i want it to.
beauty incarnated in a long narrow field
empty as hell below.
a blank cheque just waiting for me to fall in love.
i wont let it fool me.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
Sir, we're looking for me? We know me?
Sir, we've distant data on me? Are we tired of me sitting and late waking too?
My ghost, bugs, and Sir, weirding way are all known to us.
Sir, we know everything.
We grab *** squeeze **** and put high finger on it
Such wrapturous goodness for me myself and I, but where?
In Crazy Horse Native Americans strip mall?
In ridding me of a brown heritage we desperately want to keep?
With every two drink minimum we are there Sir
With every bedding down in our laps we are there Sir
In ********* Dawn on Carefree wings
to lining our sitting Sea
Our hands, guided piercings
of me we are there Sir
We sleep in darkness sweet til
babbling Brooks wake us from snug slumber
When even Darth night shines with Gwendolyn's tomorrow
And inside my full belly, we stitch our patched life quilt
Of praise, amazement and montaged
secret places
We see Degas tattoos on milky body without form
without preconception
We count precious thoughts to fall
asleep in dark innocences, in stuck vengeance
only to wake with us, always with us
still
If only I could **** an atheist
to quench our tribal blood thirst
Our folly speaks evil
I hate those, who in folly hate us
I count them as us in the Game
of finding deep hurt and worried aunts
We hurl away insults to leave bare haters and me
eternally on a path to we
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 12:39 AM UTC