"rebelliously" poems
I need to tell you of things, love
both harsh and beautiful
things that weigh heavy on the soul
and threaten to stain the sun
A world like ours, is full of shadows
never let that dim your eyes, stars like those
were born to sparkle and shine rebelliously
Let them rage, against the night and those
who seek to keep the world in darkness
let them rage, my child
until the blinded see
Life is seldom fair or just
but vengeance and hatred
should never be given the chance
to call a heart as beautiful as yours, home
Remember, you are not
just pretty words spoken
but every deed done, in light
and in every dark corner
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
There is a plot of land near my home which once housed an abundance of flora and fauna.
Turtles, birds, rabbits, snakes, wild dogfennel, pines, periwinkles, alamandas and southern river sage thrived in this space which now boasts only an open plot of beige mounds, cement cylinders, and monstrous machines.
I grimace at its "progress" daily.
Across the street, a large patch of wildflowers sit up and gaze upon this scene.
Day after day,
Erupting from the blue-eyed grass,
A family of spanish needle
and Mexican petunias
turn their blooms toward the beeping and the clunking of machines.
White peacock butterflies and red-tipped dragonflies dance around the feeding bees. I'd like to be like the flowers. To bloom rebelliously in the face of greed and destruction. Even though soon, they will be gone too.
Sep 23, 2022
Sep 23, 2022 at 4:14 PM UTC
All your perfect imperfections
Keep surfacing in my mind
Like how things drift in the ocean
The memories of you come back all the time
Fighting these thoughts just don't work
They bob up slowly, surely, unconsciously
Although I've tried to push them down
But to no avail, it forces it's way back, rebelliously
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
~
though you're titulars, you can't control our meanings! poems revolt!! (10w!)
~
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC
The arboretum watched her grow:
each day the wood-chipped path
would creep in through lace holes
and scrawl its earthen signature
upon her socks.
When she could walk on her own
the rustling blows tugged
the secrets of the leaves through the hair
she refused to fasten;
so it danced, rebelliously
on her shouldered landscape.
The labelled trees, landmarks to tourists
on the nottinghamshire tree-trail
linked outstretched arms in solidarity
around her when she froze on the bench
to skip the dining hall.
And the birds of paradise
who chirped in minor a lament
of their chicken-wire palace,
understood, when no one else could.
When they drained the lake to search
for a body,
and the parched park cried leaf-crisps
in red and orange, they were warned
from walking alone
and the grass stretches ached for
musing students to sprawl
chatter on its back.
When the time-dust sprinkled a veil
on the rumours and caution,
She appeared
taller, and hand in hand
with a boy.
They tried to decipher
the war memorial and it's message
in foreign symbols
for something to talk about.
The Arboretum has not seen her for
years,
but its crafted script
Is carved like wax in
her mind's journal.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
I have not left her behind.
there is a way...etched within me I cannot separate myself. again
and again and again. the way you fall in love
with a step and a smell and a sandwich
I am easily deterred from people
a good bye a leave me alone...placed gracefully between us.
it is almost May and there is snow on the ground
dusting the trees and baby leaves rebelliously
I dare myself to forget the warmth of
summer skin..again and again...
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
No strength had it bestowed me,
repeatedly I had been distraught.
That mighty, evil force within;
my love and innocence it sought.
With cunning ease it weakened me,
chipped at my faithful soul.
Like a quiet thief that struck at night,
it stole my treasures.
How could I have known?
He must have chuckled quietly,
as he packed my self-esteem.
Perhaps, I heard his cry of joy
when I was bitter, hateful; mean.
With expertise he found my honored trust
and he quickly took that, too.
Oh, dear Lord, was that your tears of rain
when he crushed my faith in You?
My precious God,
I took your love for granted.
Rebelliously, gave in to sin.
Just when I heard your soothing voice,
he kicked me down again.
Now, beaten, battered, torn, and lost
the narrowed road seems long.
My weakened spirit doubts
I'm worth the effort to go on.
Yet, just when all alone I feel.
I turn around to find
an angel to battle my demons,
just in the nick-of-time.
His golden wings protect me.
His body shields me from the harm.
His loving voice does soothe me.
I find my strength within his charm.
Now, hope portrays new meaning.
For me, I know he's meant.
A gift from clouds where Angel's dance,
My Jeff is Heaven-sent.
I'd given on up second chances.
I'd given up on dreams come true.
Thank you Lord for having other plans for me.
Thanks for sending Jeff to help me through.
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 4:00 PM UTC
Do not hate yourself tomorrow
For the choices you made today.
For now, yes, you did kowtow,
With the limited cards you can play.
In a few hours the sun will rise,
It’ll be another brand new day.
You may not be assured of a prize,
You’ve still got here, a place to stay.
Right now it doesn’t make sense,
But hey, ask yourself, what does?
Release oneself from all the tense,
No one really knows, what’s the fuss?
We are here and we gotta live,
Rebelliously, we do what we gotta do,
Embrace now and yourself forgive,
You’re doing you, through and through.
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 10:01 AM UTC
I'm being torn in two
My two halves are fighting again
The good side
The Mormon girl
She wants to be righteous
She wants to do all that she is supposed to
Stay on the path
Be worthy
Be active in the church
Go to BYU
Meet a return missionary
Get married in the temple
Start a family
Have five or so kids
Grow old
Stay in the church
And die
Knowing she raised a good Mormon family
And then there's the bad side
The rebel
She wants to do want she really wants
She wants piercings
She wants tattoos
She wants to be radical
Live her own life
Without consequences
From those Above
Go to college...elsewhere
Meet someone like her
Get married on the beach
(Or not at all!)
Maybe have a family
Couple kids
And live her days
Rebelliously
Enjoying her days
Not caring for tomorrow
And each side
Have their ups and downs
So
Why
Not
Both?
And that's where my struggle lies
And how to combine the two
Nearly opposite sides
Into one
Imperfect whole
And that's what I'll be doing
For the rest of my days
Until I die
After I die
Is combine my two halves
And make one
And make Me
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
The fingers close on the keyboard
With the urge to string alphabets
To vent the pouring from within
And to reach the final pleasure!
The sad macabre extensions of the hands
Stop in the silent gush of hollowness,
The tabs are not pressed,
No clicks rent the heart's void!
The emotions sinfully sick
Rebelliously withdraw,
The fingers reach out
For a vial of intoxication
To heal all wounds!
The fingers start tapping….
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
We took upon ourselves this mighty emblem
Swift, strong, clever, admirable
All the traits we boast
For we admire predators
And will never admit weakness, craving help
As the ultimate enemies of our grandparent's did
When there were no more hunters strong enough for us
We hunted ourselves
And looked to this symbol like wingless conspire
Created a feeble facsimile, a mockery
Both predator and prey fly rebelliously
In secret handshakes and public smiles
We convolutedly devoured ourselves
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
I imagine your hands dwarfing someone else's and the image puts something bitter on the back of my tongue
I imagine you sweeping back hair that doesn't curl rebelliously at your fingers, insisting your hand stay with them
Words wet with dismay stick to my dry throat and if I could cough them out thered be nothing but different configurations of "stay"
I imagine your lips covering some spectre of a woman who is not me and I am amazed by the vastness of my hate
I remember the warmth of your chest as you pressed into my side, crowded me to the table, and my heart leapt into my throat
I couldn't think past awareness of you, felt you down my spine and into my shoes
That little was enough to do to leave me gasping
I'd be frigid if I insisted I could ever do without it
I remember kissing the mouthpiece of a roll and inhaling acrid smoke and you pressed the tip of your spliff to my lips before I had finished coughing and
Chased smoke like it was an ever-distant horizon vanishing into my chest
I am a ruined woman, stuck dreaming and waiting, there's humiliation that comes with this sort of infatuation
You get me tense, keep me constantly on the precipice of something, torso dangling over a railing, always threatening the possibility of free fall
I can hardly deal with my day to day humanity, the depravity you spark is beyond me and my meager means of processing
You look at me and I feel distinctly underdressed, publicly indecent, unnecessarily yearning as though I've never once known decorum
I fumble as I rarely do, trip over words like they're untied shoes, and my heart is imprinted under the press of your thumb
I've caught myself often wondering if I am merely imagining the heat of the summer and I am roasting in your company
My skin oversensitive, my heart aches with fresh burns, but when you leave I freeze and claw you back to me
The way that my mind, ever caterwauling, overthinking, shaking is so immediately quiet and still to give your voice room
That the world narrows to a point and the buzz of reality fades and I can focus on you
That the fear I cradle is smothered by the weight of your consideration
There's so much that qualifies as perfection that its unfamiliarity makes me consider running from whatever it is brewing between you and me.
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 2:37 AM UTC
And so it rebelliously expands
Contrary to bespeckled pros
Redshifts and penumbrae smiles
Continue to baffle the old men.
Hellishly heated, the entirety
Combusts to life.
Dark energy and axion matter
Gently caress the growing universe
like a nursing mother.
And here I lay, wine in hand
Never feeling more small
But perfect in my insignificance.
Unseen protectors of cataclysm
Whip for us that blood orange
That purple flame
Spin for us
Pose for us
And show us your heavens of glass
Cerulean brother
Cinnamon sister
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 4:41 AM UTC
blond is
poetic to exhaustion.
cohesively soulful.
progressive but not obnoxiously ambitious.
euphorically sinister of nostalgia.
naked with a rebelliously warm tone.
tastefully sour like an onion.
the Sistine Chapel of r&b.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 3:53 AM UTC
A crossroads.
a path encased in forest
green patchwork of branches, keep secret—-
the memories of shoes on the mossy trail
a path paved pretentiously
wood rebelliously pushing back against the green
overthrowing the chaos of jagged weeds
all the same suppressing the beauty of the wild flowers
a cleared path
barren of trouble
barren of life
a secluded path
enveloped in mystery
enveloped in regret
a guaranteed destination
an invitation to...
Feb 7, 2023
Feb 7, 2023 at 1:27 AM UTC