"unarguably" poems - Hello Poetry

I’ll rev you like a Porsche Pressurize the clutch then ease on the equipped brake enrolling the steering wheel On the highway as we sing Tuning choruses eccentrically apply the mascara and smile put my flock on, swing like Bowie Craze up in seismic grooves Shift to a self expression culture be so extreme that you glitter I’ll desire your ambiguousness Unarguably, I’ll hold your hand An evolved zeitgeist in revolution squeeze their prejudiced little heads replicate, experiment your persona

0

Jan 27, 2016

Jan 27, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC

SassyJ

Benevolent Oppressor

I’ll rev you like a Porsche Pressurize the clutch then ease on the equipped brake enrolling the steering wheel On the highway as we sing Tuning choruses eccentrically apply the mascara and smile put my flock on, swing like Bowie Craze up in seismic grooves Shift to a self expression culture be so extreme that you glitter I’ll desire your ambiguousness Unarguably, I’ll hold your hand An evolved zeitgeist in revolution squeeze their prejudiced little heads replicate, experiment your persona

16

I will tell you not of our Secret mangrove tenement, Tunneled through the space behind both of our eyes. A place meant for whimsy and bioluminescent fauna, fawning faux sun light out into obsidian night. Nor will I tell of our soul’s soft meridian, served on the half shell to both kind and prying eyes, distant though unarguably tied— ribbons spun, fastened, dyed For what end should I tell? When your very presence is Heaven. And your very absence Hell.

0

Jan 1, 2015

Jan 1, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC

daniel-august-1

A longing circumference.

I will tell you not of our Secret mangrove tenement, Tunneled through the space behind both of our eyes. A place meant for whimsy and bioluminescent fauna, fawning faux sun light out into obsidian night. Nor will I tell of our soul’s soft meridian, served on the half shell to both kind and prying eyes, distant though unarguably tied— ribbons spun, fastened, dyed For what end should I tell? When your very presence is Heaven. And your very absence Hell.

20

With apathy, I am happy. … Without apathy, I am horribly frustrated, restless, occasionally disheartened where I am not myself. But so unarguably alive thrillingly animated; unmistakably blissful; So utterly in love.

0

Oct 26, 2012

Oct 26, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC

emma-johnson-2

Untitled

With apathy, I am happy. … Without apathy, I am horribly frustrated, restless, occasionally disheartened where I am not myself. But so unarguably alive thrillingly animated; unmistakably blissful; So utterly in love.

13

If I were a celebrity... I would contact all the rest of the female celebrities attending an upcoming red carpet event and try and get everyone including myself to show up without any makeup on at all to display not natural beauty, but a lack of concern for outer beauty to society and the media. If I were a famous music artist... I would write songs about imperfections I would write songs to heal people emotionally in the way only music can and get people who enjoy my music to contact me with their stories and meet with them so I can write songs personalized to their story so they can always have a song that they can 100% relate to. If I were a famous author... I would write books from the point of view of a girl who is unarguably NOT traditionally physically pretty, not necessarily traditionally ugly, but not particularly pretty (by society's standards and definitions I mean because beauty doesn't have a REAL definition), but my character would be so beautiful inside. I would write about a character who does all the normal things a real person does and not everything in her life would end in happily ever after because in real life, not everything does. She would be a real type of person, she would walk into rooms and forget what she was there for (which I do an embarrassing amount of times in a day) she would occasionally trip down the stairs (and up it too the way I ever so clumsily do) she would hate having uneven hoodie strings, her favorite song would come on all the time on the radio when she pulls into the garage, she would press those little buttons you find on the lids of fast-food drinks and she would always get stuck behind slow-walkers at the mall. I would create a character people can relate to because there are far too many books about perfect beautiful people with perfect lives where things turn out perfectly for them and I’d like to create a role model of a character who is not perfect. If I were someone who could reach millions of people with my words, I would want to do so much. But I am just me, and my words cannot influence the whole world. I can’t change society, I am so small in our big, big world I don’t have a voice. I hope those who have a voice use it well. Repost if you wish you had a bigger voice Comment and tell me what you would do to change the world if you had a bigger voice

0

Nov 1, 2014

Nov 1, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC

ember-evanescent

If I were...

If I were a celebrity... I would contact all the rest of the female celebrities attending an upcoming red carpet event and try and get everyone including myself to show up without any makeup on at all to display not natural beauty, but a lack of concern for outer beauty to society and the media. If I were a famous music artist... I would write songs about imperfections I would write songs to heal people emotionally in the way only music can and get people who enjoy my music to contact me with their stories and meet with them so I can write songs personalized to their story so they can always have a song that they can 100% relate to. If I were a famous author... I would write books from the point of view of a girl who is unarguably NOT traditionally physically pretty, not necessarily traditionally ugly, but not particularly pretty (by society's standards and definitions I mean because beauty doesn't have a REAL definition), but my character would be so beautiful inside. I would write about a character who does all the normal things a real person does and not everything in her life would end in happily ever after because in real life, not everything does. She would be a real type of person, she would walk into rooms and forget what she was there for (which I do an embarrassing amount of times in a day) she would occasionally trip down the stairs (and up it too the way I ever so clumsily do) she would hate having uneven hoodie strings, her favorite song would come on all the time on the radio when she pulls into the garage, she would press those little buttons you find on the lids of fast-food drinks and she would always get stuck behind slow-walkers at the mall. I would create a character people can relate to because there are far too many books about perfect beautiful people with perfect lives where things turn out perfectly for them and I’d like to create a role model of a character who is not perfect. If I were someone who could reach millions of people with my words, I would want to do so much. But I am just me, and my words cannot influence the whole world. I can’t change society, I am so small in our big, big world I don’t have a voice. I hope those who have a voice use it well. Repost if you wish you had a bigger voice Comment and tell me what you would do to change the world if you had a bigger voice

9

It is hard to make sense of the world When you are stuck in my wall. I have ran so many races That only earned me a broken face. These words are the reflection of my woes I can't but keep watching my folks turn foes. Unarguably, my today is not a reflection of my past Because in my yesterdays, I faced all battles, I didn't pick my tasks. But my gold is often given the price tag of coal Leaving me no choice than to clock-walk alone. You see, it is hard to make sense of the world A place where the best are left to eat their words. I gave my blood when my sweat was not enough My dream in their noses like an African ***** I give ears to their worries, none to mine My visions are like lads stories that should not be taken to mind. My case is before a judge desk Who sleeps and dine in my accused nest. Still, they want me to make sense of the world Where the best gets the worst and the corrupt gets the award. Is there any sense to really make of us? Are humans really worth making sense of? You see, don't waste a lifetime trying to make sense where there is none Instead, strive to make something out of what can be done.

0

Mar 5, 2018

Mar 5, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC

victor-ernest-osong

My Perspective

It is hard to make sense of the world When you are stuck in my wall. I have ran so many races That only earned me a broken face. These words are the reflection of my woes I can't but keep watching my folks turn foes. Unarguably, my today is not a reflection of my past Because in my yesterdays, I faced all battles, I didn't pick my tasks. But my gold is often given the price tag of coal Leaving me no choice than to clock-walk alone. You see, it is hard to make sense of the world A place where the best are left to eat their words. I gave my blood when my sweat was not enough My dream in their noses like an African ***** I give ears to their worries, none to mine My visions are like lads stories that should not be taken to mind. My case is before a judge desk Who sleeps and dine in my accused nest. Still, they want me to make sense of the world Where the best gets the worst and the corrupt gets the award. Is there any sense to really make of us? Are humans really worth making sense of? You see, don't waste a lifetime trying to make sense where there is none Instead, strive to make something out of what can be done.

24

why must you consistently persistently hurt me? or is it I who lacks the ability to protect myself from your actions and thoughts and impulses? it’s funny how (I think anyway) emotional pain is so unarguably different from physical pain and yet they both hurt all the same or maybe more so, emotionally you wreak your havoc on my clarity playing on my empathy evoking barrels of sympathy and yet none for myself I sugar coat your words define your actions with excuses write off your impulses as faults of my own but who am I to excuse you, yourself so irrevocably at fault thus this is goodbye a farewell to the desperation and helplessness and hello to beauty in sunrises shared with someone who bares no excuses no sweet covering of words just independent simplicity charmingly woven together elation made of daisy chains

0

Nov 16, 2019

Nov 16, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC

elliestreet

Daisy Chains

why must you consistently persistently hurt me? or is it I who lacks the ability to protect myself from your actions and thoughts and impulses? it’s funny how (I think anyway) emotional pain is so unarguably different from physical pain and yet they both hurt all the same or maybe more so, emotionally you wreak your havoc on my clarity playing on my empathy evoking barrels of sympathy and yet none for myself I sugar coat your words define your actions with excuses write off your impulses as faults of my own but who am I to excuse you, yourself so irrevocably at fault thus this is goodbye a farewell to the desperation and helplessness and hello to beauty in sunrises shared with someone who bares no excuses no sweet covering of words just independent simplicity charmingly woven together elation made of daisy chains

38

When we are born, we make our first promise. A promise to abide by society’s rules and expectations, and to fulfill the status quo. We are only to be what society deems correct. It is a dictatorship and a repression of individuality. A production of a row of robots, each the same in their monotonous design. Fully functioning machines - not a nut or bolt out of place. But if you dare to misstep or if you try to rebel - no one is to blame for the inevitable consequences of your actions but yourself. Because society shapes us, and we shape society. And this allows for all hatred and discrimination to fester. Slowly accepted norms in our God Fearing, Deteriorating, Splintering world. Separated by what we look like and not by who we are. Standing out and being different is unarguably wrong. More deplorable than being scared of what is divergent, unfamiliar and what we frown upon. That this vicious circle of sameness goes on and on.

0

Oct 18, 2017

Oct 18, 2017 at 7:31 AM UTC

sanajawa

O Status Quo, Status Quo! Wherefore art thou Status Quo?

When we are born, we make our first promise. A promise to abide by society’s rules and expectations, and to fulfill the status quo. We are only to be what society deems correct. It is a dictatorship and a repression of individuality. A production of a row of robots, each the same in their monotonous design. Fully functioning machines - not a nut or bolt out of place. But if you dare to misstep or if you try to rebel - no one is to blame for the inevitable consequences of your actions but yourself. Because society shapes us, and we shape society. And this allows for all hatred and discrimination to fester. Slowly accepted norms in our God Fearing, Deteriorating, Splintering world. Separated by what we look like and not by who we are. Standing out and being different is unarguably wrong. More deplorable than being scared of what is divergent, unfamiliar and what we frown upon. That this vicious circle of sameness goes on and on.

15

Giving an opinion is to open a window to one’s perspective It can require introspection but is far from always definitive People usually want it to be objective While opinion, to me, can be nothing but subjective Opinions lie on knowledge and experience Two things that bolster one’s body of evidence Establishing a thin or thick line of reference To which we all offer multiple marks of deference Could that explain why it’s always so difficult to make it budge? Is it like becoming a referee or embodying a judge? Are there any rules that should be strictly followed? Any piece of advice, decisive, immutable, somebody ever sold? What’s sure is that everyone’s entitled to an opinion, I’ll never hold a grudge Because rejecting exchange would be nothing but a smudge. When not arguing facts, is anybody really right or wrong? I would like to believe so depending on the subject One decisive element should unarguably be the context Because without weak there’s obviously no strong. The ultimate key lies in the word “listening” Socrates used to say “I know that I know nothing” If so, what do I know? I’m asking! If you bring your ear closer, you could hear just something That might uncover a clue, changing Just a little or more of what you’ve been believing Altering your opinion on a specific matter Making you nothing more than a bit wiser.

0

Feb 18, 2020

Feb 18, 2020 at 12:31 PM UTC

GorAmb

Opinion

Giving an opinion is to open a window to one’s perspective It can require introspection but is far from always definitive People usually want it to be objective While opinion, to me, can be nothing but subjective Opinions lie on knowledge and experience Two things that bolster one’s body of evidence Establishing a thin or thick line of reference To which we all offer multiple marks of deference Could that explain why it’s always so difficult to make it budge? Is it like becoming a referee or embodying a judge? Are there any rules that should be strictly followed? Any piece of advice, decisive, immutable, somebody ever sold? What’s sure is that everyone’s entitled to an opinion, I’ll never hold a grudge Because rejecting exchange would be nothing but a smudge. When not arguing facts, is anybody really right or wrong? I would like to believe so depending on the subject One decisive element should unarguably be the context Because without weak there’s obviously no strong. The ultimate key lies in the word “listening” Socrates used to say “I know that I know nothing” If so, what do I know? I’m asking! If you bring your ear closer, you could hear just something That might uncover a clue, changing Just a little or more of what you’ve been believing Altering your opinion on a specific matter Making you nothing more than a bit wiser.

26