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"rebelliousness" poems
Redeem from the sins that I have done in the past. Redeem to become a true child of the Living God. Redeem from my rebelliousness and attitudes. Redeem from a life that was wasted till now. Redeem from being just a another member of the crowd. Redeem from living a selfish, non sacrificial life here. Redeem to fight for the fatherless, widows, and poor. Redeem to be the child that you have created me to be.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
Redeem
I may be an odd ball but I will make the ground beneath me crack open from my rage. I find that when I fight a war wits, the Earth Bites Back. Doctors in psychology, medical, therapeutic and logic all agree that I am crazy and insane. I have been through all of the scans, x-rays and tests for mental health. I have medications for my bipolar disorder and my high functioning sociopath-ness. The meds don't take away my creativity nor my high strung rebelliousness. I know how to take care of myself. My psychotic break was the worst thing to go through. I don't have all of my memories from that summer. I know how to decode my literary codes from that summer. I remember the mood swings, the restless nights, going to the hospital, my mom freaking out and me having no idea what was going on. That summer is all a fever dream to me. The Earth Bites Back what some call crazy, I call genius. The Earth Bites Back, I don't plan on relapsing my psychotic break. Mentally, I sound like an alcoholic, too much stimuli and I am everywhere either too high or too low. The fall and winter depression is the worst too. All of the crying, all of the misery, all of the dreary overthinking and all of the sulking over the past.
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Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 11:30 PM UTC
Earth Bites Back
- - Moments. Tiny moments. Big moments. Unexpected moments. I've-been-waiting-my-whole-life-for-this moments. - Seeing the world through the cracks in its mask; directly in its eyes (or where the holes should be at least). - Accepting the all-round unimportance of humanity to the world but giving the world to humanity. There is no definition of who or what a good person is. So hold positive qualities (like love, honesty, rebelliousness, compassion, affection) in your palms and give your true self to the world. Tell yourself you are good. In turn, you then will be. - Treat the Earth nicely. You have a short stay and after all, you're just part of an energy system. Be nice to Pluto too. God forbid, it could use it.
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Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
the meaning of life according to 16 year old me
We all used to be afraid of owning up to our mistakes. Always finding new excuses to dodge accusations, always shrugging our shoulders when a finger was pointed at us. Because back then, tiptoeing downstairs to steal a cookie from the cookie jar was the most scandalous thing we could do. The adrenaline rushed through our veins as we swiftly climbed up the stairs to our bedrooms without getting caught. Our rebelliousness was short-lived, however, when our mothers re-counted the batch and noticed that a cookie was missing. But now, our mistakes leave a deeper scar--not only on ourselves, but on others as well. We've learned to manipulate hearts, make excuses for our absence, and keep people waiting in the shadows because of our indecision. But one thing remains the same; we still shrug when being accused. As children, we felt the need to lie because we were afraid of the consequences that came with telling the truth. We were selfish and wanted to protect ourselves. But as we get older, we feel the need to lie because we are afraid of hurting somebody else by telling the truth. We are selfless and want to protect others.
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
The Fear of Telling the Truth
You Are quiet Almost reverent As you touch What remains Of her memories His memories You recall With fondness And tears As you consider All that they had done Her memories Laced with a certain Bitter-sweetness Reminiscent of your Pointless rebelliousness I am sure The screams figuratively Ring out when you talk Silently, reverently Of their memories As we watch, respectfully When you lay down Your ode for your parents
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Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Ode To Your Parents
Whenever the mist of pain and torment loomed; And my already broken heart, dashed to pieces You picked them all and glued them back together, mother You helped me to resurge, with thousands of amorous kisses When I was surrounded by deep blue silences and my heart cried in pain You wept my ocean of tears but, you never shed one The excruciating pain of my life, was hurting you too But you always said, ‘My love, the struggles have just begun’ Beneath the tender look, your ardent black eyes beamed rebelliousness I know that you wanted me to be the woman you never got to be And so, as a present on your birthday, I make you a promise That I will always be in the shelter of your arms; I will be the woman you want me to be and nothing will ever sunder you and me.
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Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 3:47 AM UTC
'A birthday poem for my mother'
Dear pops 1) You died and will never get to see your grandchildren.  I always used to tell you if you didn't eat better you wouldn't get to see them. I was right 2) I told you if you didn't eat better you would get diabetes. In the end they cut out your pancreas and I became right 3) I always thought hospitals were cool. Thanks to you I can't bear thinking of one 4) Why did you never say you were proud of me? 5)Why did you never say you were proud of me? 6) Why did you never say you were proud of me? 7) Never. Not once 8) Were you proud of me? 9) Why was it always about my looks? 10) Why was I always annoying to you?  *edit - why did you always find me annoying? 11) Did I matter? 12) Did you think I was smart? 13) Did you think I would become something? 14) Did you think I was a stupid girl who would outgrow her rebelliousness 15) It's been 17 years and I haven't 16) Did you think I was smart? 17) You never thought anything I did mattered 18) You always mocked me, made fun of me, never listened to what I had to say 19) You thought I was rude when I wasn't 20) You labelled me all the time 21) There's a small part of me that's glad you died because now I can love a girl more easily. Now I can love a boy of a different race more easily. Now I can speak to my mother more easily 22) Did you love me?  It didn't seem so 23) I always thought my life would change if I lost someone I loved. It didn't ,not much 24) I'm always looking for older men to tell me I'm intelligent. Your best friend. My uncle. My teacher. 25) Guess why 26) I'm damaged. I was damaged before you died and a large part of why is you 27) The boys and I always said you reminded us of Homer Simpson because of your gut and baldness and mild foolishness. In the end you were so ravaged by jaundice you were as yellow as him. I will never watch The Simpsons again
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
things I want to say to my dead father
Dear pops 1) You died and will never get to see your grandchildren.  I always used to tell you if you didn't eat better you wouldn't get to see them. I was right 2) I told you if you didn't eat better you would get diabetes. In the end they cut out your pancreas and I became right 3) I always thought hospitals were cool. Thanks to you I can't bear thinking of one 4) Why did you never say you were proud of me? 5)Why did you never say you were proud of me? 6) Why did you never say you were proud of me? 7) Never. Not once 8) Were you proud of me? 9) Why was it always about my looks? 10) Why was I always annoying to you?  *edit - why did you always find me annoying? 11) Did I matter? 12) Did you think I was smart? 13) Did you think I would become something? 14) Did you think I was a stupid girl who would outgrow her rebelliousness 15) It's been 17 years and I haven't 16) Did you think I was smart? 17) You never thought anything I did mattered 18) You always mocked me, made fun of me, never listened to what I had to say 19) You thought I was rude when I wasn't 20) You labelled me all the time 21) There's a small part of me that's glad you died because now I can love a girl more easily. Now I can love a boy of a different race more easily. Now I can speak to my mother more easily 22) Did you love me?  It didn't seem so 23) I always thought my life would change if I lost someone I loved. It didn't ,not much 24) I'm always looking for older men to tell me I'm intelligent. Your best friend. My uncle. My teacher. 25) Guess why 26) I'm damaged. I was damaged before you died and a large part of why is you 27) The boys and I always said you reminded us of Homer Simpson because of your gut and baldness and mild foolishness. In the end you were so ravaged by jaundice you were as yellow as him. I will never watch The Simpsons again
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28
We wore rebelliousness on our shoulders, frisky pool-hall junkies with high & tights, cracking skulls was our nature, warriors straddling the edge, for in a moment’s notice we could be whisked, whisked away into harm’s way & harm takes no prisoners, neither did we.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
No Prisoners
)     :: O ::    ( ////    •  ||| <> (  •  )   (  •. ) ////// In praise of DIVINUS // I walk with measured steps Thru the childhood days Past the **** heads dying in the park Thru to the cutters and the depressed kids Who write of lovelessness Here on hello poetry /// On the brink of World War III Wounded to the very heart Telling of the pain of Loneliness (   Such deep and penetrating loneliness. ) •• The tenemented poverty The isolation The continuous onslaught The reverberations The utter lack of hope The utter abandonment of faith /:/ The frighten refusal to see The universality of the dissolution The pandering to collectivity The "me-too" egoism That says Sadness is enough misery is qualification enough The lack of rebelliousness The turning of suffering into normalcy The steady worship of authority The denial that there will be a reckoning tomorrow •• All the hippies are gone Replaced by violent lovers and *** addled addicts The plight of lemmings Going over the cliff Into the sea /// Dear people There is Something Much better Much finer Neater More holy And satisfying Than to simply await death While telling each other Nothing of significance
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Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
A ****** poem
///\\\ (    •  •     ) (   ) <> /\ /\ 00000 PRANAM 00000                                   wild horses                                       ---------   Dream boy                              the days to come ! /// NOW LET US GET IT STRAIGHT the earths 's environment It is dying or already dead |||||                                           WILD HORSES /// Pure with natural unrestrained DIGNITY                        |||||                            WILD HORSES                              --------- ( you & me ) • • We lookin for the KISS that'll keep us high forever ! (     Good tongue !  ) Or for the **** DEVINE that obliterates all time and space (Good luck ! ) but reality got somethin else in store for us ( yes indeed ! ) JUST LIKE WE HOPED IT WOULD ! • wild the human spirit in its rebelliousness WILD HORSES wild the fresh and free bodies of the still - sane WILD HORSES wild the lovers' dreams in the night's pure liberation WILD HORSES wild the New Earth as it shall take shape •  • WILD HORSES ! we go Across the mountain To the towns below Just so you know Just who you are And what TRUE BEING means
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
self portrait
because no one knew its name a flower was given to me as a challenge, so ugly like it belonged in a Barbie doll's hair or a as a gift for a priest, it deserved to be smashed against a warship or stuck in a coca-cola bottle; it had petals that didn't coat the soul it smelled of an office and didn't have a name; when evening arrived everyone wanted to leave without knowing it, I stopped to look at it and recalled the rebelliousness of Pizarnik but I became bored before pulverizing my eyes and for that reason I simply called it : Cataplum and without wanting to I ended the world.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
The End
/// ) -- \\\ ( • ) ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ we know the long road Come Child The day calls for some form of rebelliousness • Trained to hurt Trained to **** Trained to live with Total indifference To every important thing •• (the long road) • We pass each other by so indifferently Just as we've been trained to do •• Come away with me The day calls out for some sort of rebelliousness Come away with me Yes that would be the thing to do
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
love song
It was six in the morning while we drove downtown. There were some freaks, but it was just a human pattern. We drove past them and kept going while we watched the children running, the hospitals dumpster and the virgins graduate. We drove into nowhere, and it was dark with the trees surrounding the car. I had been deceived, and I was shuttering to my knees; but there was a rebelliousness to it. It was a battle of shadows, but you still didn’t have any opinions. I said: Let me start by asking you. But I couldn’t finish, it was the absence of badness–the **** beds and the soaking pillows that filled your empty room. You never felt it again, like a dry wall, empty on the inside. Breathlessly I gasped for some air, and reach out for you.
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
Reach out for you
I am in love with angst, am attracted to rebelliousness. Hand signs are ******* fine & genuice Docs are the way to go. Purple glitter & spikes, colorful sleeves & loud-piped bikes are for me, You see clearly now, I'm a punk & I wanna make a statement, "Kiss my *** because you can.
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
I Wanna Make A Punkish Statement
. Children The elders are mad From years of neglect And lonliness • Like leaves a fallin in the gentle rain <> Death Comes too easily We gather together in grief But not rebelliousness // The leaves land on our faces Blindly We walk on •• •• Uncertainly We walk on uncertainly ( it gets so hard to even see each other For sure ) • Lovers ! We are lovers who have no love To give Anymore •• •• Harsher winds start blowing We feel the suffering cut more deeply ;; Tomorrow cries for the new born 's sake // We gather together ::: There are decisions We've got to make // before we face The HURRICANE x
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Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
.. leaves a fallin in the gentle rain ..
( heart to heart ) • • • l • Ain't no time no more // Ain't // No time no more // No time for Pettiness // Love sick // I'm sick a what you say love is // Makes me feel like it's all hopeless /////// •• •• Blaming love for your pain ! // ( the song of the loveless ) •• /\ One fine day ! The winds of rebelliousness Blowin strong ( be free if you want ! ) •• Ain't no time no more To see you play your silly game Lying shamelessly Bout why you're cryin on the bathroom floor •• me and the whole world The dancing angel on the street Always within reach Always there for everyone
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Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
hand in hand
All she ever asked, did I have my dinner on time or not? And I would say Yes, mother, I am done with it. Deep down she would know I am lying. And I too knew, she knows I’m lying. Some days, she would ask, what have I eaten? On others she would tell stories of her adolescence. On hearing what I’ve eaten? And I would tell her my favorite cuisines. Not the same one twice on a row, Not the ones that’s difficult to prepare on an induction stove. Frequent lying has made me a master in this art. However, nothing can be hidden from a mother’s heart. She would finally give up and let me feel as if I’ve outsmarted her. So she would quietly sigh and tell what she found in the temple stairs Or maybe her dream of having long conversations With Gods and goddesses who detest my very existence But won’t use their powers out of fear What It is I always wanted to hear from her? Were the unadulterated stories of youth. The stories of her innocence, The stories of her rebelliousness The stories of her sacrifices Which she would share quite often, Things she would say, would feel more real It’s been years, but details are so flawless, how come? Things are supposed to be forgotten over time But she remembers it all as if singularity of a black hole I am quite certain, it’s only me who knows it all For she won’t share with anyone the hardships in her tale I would listen her and ask Is she missing all that? She won’t say a thing would remain quite for a moment I would know somewhere a drop of tear dropped Covering the reminiscences of her past And then I would talk of the new cuisine, I’ve developed Hoping she won’t ask for a photo op Of me and my unseen food, which I needed to gulp A master, did i say? Memories remain with us forever We should live as they are Never try to put them in words They warm you up from inside, they as well, tear you apart.
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Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 1:05 AM UTC
Mother
All she ever asked, did I have my dinner on time or not? And I would say Yes, mother, I am done with it. Deep down she would know I am lying. And I too knew, she knows I’m lying. Some days, she would ask, what have I eaten? On others she would tell stories of her adolescence. On hearing what I’ve eaten? And I would tell her my favorite cuisines. Not the same one twice on a row, Not the ones that’s difficult to prepare on an induction stove. Frequent lying has made me a master in this art. However, nothing can be hidden from a mother’s heart. She would finally give up and let me feel as if I’ve outsmarted her. So she would quietly sigh and tell what she found in the temple stairs Or maybe her dream of having long conversations With Gods and goddesses who detest my very existence But won’t use their powers out of fear What It is I always wanted to hear from her? Were the unadulterated stories of youth. The stories of her innocence, The stories of her rebelliousness The stories of her sacrifices Which she would share quite often, Things she would say, would feel more real It’s been years, but details are so flawless, how come? Things are supposed to be forgotten over time But she remembers it all as if singularity of a black hole I am quite certain, it’s only me who knows it all For she won’t share with anyone the hardships in her tale I would listen her and ask Is she missing all that? She won’t say a thing would remain quite for a moment I would know somewhere a drop of tear dropped Covering the reminiscences of her past And then I would talk of the new cuisine, I’ve developed Hoping she won’t ask for a photo op Of me and my unseen food, which I needed to gulp A master, did i say? Memories remain with us forever We should live as they are Never try to put them in words They warm you up from inside, they as well, tear you apart.
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I have laid my addictive behavior down, being healed. I am laying down my pain, sorrow, guilt, and struggles. I am laying my sins, anger, and rebelliousness down. I am relying on every single promise that you have made. I am doing this , praying that others shall follow my lead. Thus hopefully drawing the hurt, guilt ridden and struggling. Into seeing that God can and will heal their issues too. I pray that they shall stand on Christ truths as well.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
LAYING IT ALL DOWN
Pale faces and red eyes approach making no sound Pale faces and red eyes emerge from diamond studded cars Ask the sun why it dares to shine For her rebelliousness, is it a salute? My subconscious mind looks for a yellow bus around In front of the class, summarize who you are in words, just few Ask the sky why it looks so blue For it feels like the first day of school Her casket holds the night skies Frozen flames struggle to dance to the tunes seen by her eyes The lilies may wilt if given a chance It's a Visitation, you're supposed to cry But frankly, your eulogy is full of lies You wear grief just like school uniforms; For a few hours and out of formality Funeral director, the head of the school Making money out of a dying galaxy Her thoughts shall live as immortals There's more to bury than just the body A masked old man makes me realize He bleeds black tears from his eyes He tells me they performed an autopsy Out bled nothing but art and poetry Lo and behold! Another galaxy has died In whose heart now, will my soul reside?
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May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
When Galaxies Die
My Beautiful Savior has rescue me from the death that I deserve. I am a sinner whom failed him, I allow my brokenness to come between us. His love for us is beautiful, his Love for us his people is Great. He died a wretched death filled with our worldly sins to save us. The Cross is beautiful, it is a symbol of freedom from sins and death. He rose up from death to give us everlasting life with him in heaven. He came to the earth to die and live again to give us true Hope. He saved us, he lives to bring us out of rebelliousness with the Father . My Beautiful Savior came here to save us from a death that we deserve.
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Beautiful Savior
*remove the medicinal intrusions from being used by our seclusion destiny returns fruition and seeds inhibitions in our psyche’s rebelliousness i am still not impressed by your inheritance or your hesitance to being happy yet we continue to persistently insist to exist in symmetric triangles designed by the angels for our protection and enjoyment both sensory and subtle i suggest we restore the animals to the forest and allow the grasses to once again grow wild -- uncut, unbridled and unburdened by our hands or our egos*
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Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 1:39 PM UTC
unbridled
Whom am I to break Christ heart with my rebelliousness. Whom am I to lose my temper at the one whom died for me. Whom am I, to reject the only one whom been there for me. Whom am I , to live a life for myself, after all that he has done. He whom came down here to the world that he has created. Just to die a death, taking all of the worlds sins upon himself. Then dying a sinners death, here on the earth that he has created. So whom am I to refuse to obey him, after all that he has done. Whom am I , to ignore him and do exactly what I close to here.
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
Whom Am I To
We think shooting stars are beautiful, delicate rarities flying down from an infinite abyss just to cross a meaningless sky with no real end But no They are fallen angels, to powerful to listen to any of gods word and to full of hatred to retrieve their broken halo from their fellow brothers and sisters We are taught from a young age stars are full of life and energetic, especially shooting ones but we are never taught that they are the epitome rebelliousness and destruction and will live to see our world self destruct and collapse in on itself and form a desolating black hole, destined to **** every piece of hope up for itself
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Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 4:08 PM UTC
Fallen Angels
Blurred sights, clarity remains Rebelliousness nonexistent, sometimes a ray Associations a downfall, leading astray Numbness soothing, until panic soars Attendance to depart, ensuring departure. Unsteady legs, balanced steps A poured escape, drowning in regret Unnoticed presence, disturbed by familiarity Speech absorbed, uninterpreted Purpose defeated, knowing the unknown. Emotions fluctuate, care constant Emptiness filled, with concentrated sips Excessive consciousness, a poor act Elaborations fluent, betrayed by a stench Erroneous responses, beckoning distance. Mental lapses, memories stored Glass drained, a purchase to be made Uncontrolled motions, perceived to be intentional 'Disappointment' echoing, volumes relentless A pond of thoughts left, to a lonesome ponder. Loss envelopes, relations sustained Shards scatter, threatening flesh Invisible tears, sodden spirits A fated meeting, a choice afforded An inebriated promise; a sober agreement.
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Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 7:31 AM UTC
~A Promise, to Keep~